#but times are hard and I hate asking for money on here in general

[mystycalypso]

do u ever pray u lived in an au where the show wasnt cancelled.... i wish theyd made season 3 according to their original plans then just went on hiatus until that company merger or w/e was done n they had money for s4 </3

Okay so, I was going to draw some- very fruity Laserblast art ngl, but this ask hit me enough I sat down, and opened my laptop to write a real response. I've also got the series on in the background. I started episode 1 when I began typing, and we'll see how far I am in the series before I finish typing it.

First of all, I love using au to refer to real life, honestly better than various timelines. And secondly

Absolutely. Every day of my life. Every time I draw one of the characters, or see fanart, or hear the VAs or- anything. Because- I'm insanely hyperfixated on this show. A disgusting amount, unhealthily. It's not normal lol.

And I do constantly think about what could have been, I mean, after all once again my favorite character is Laserblast of all things. Not Venomous, Laserblast. The version of that man that has like five minutes of screen time and no canon first name. So much so that when on the Saberspark Q&A when he came up in a question for quote "Me and the three other Laserblast fans" I cheered out loud, alone, in my apartment. I would have killed to not have to pull at removing his mask myself and Ian's one tweet calling him a himbo to show people characterization.

And honestly the wiki makes it all worse, in a loving way. What do you mean we were going to get multiple sitcom comfy style episodes where K.O. spends the weekend with his dad? I could've had more proof that Venomous isn't an abusive dad, just an unskilled and undisciplined one? I COULD'VE HAD AN EASIER TIME SEPERATING HIM AND SHADOWY TO OTHERS?!

And sure, I constantly wish that somehow someway I'll wake up and Ian will have announced the movie, the Hue Troop spin off, post finale storylines, the works.

But, on the other hand, here's why I'm grateful for what we did end up getting (this will probably be the longer section, sorrey)

tldwr (Too long don't wanna read): Cartoon Network is dead and pathetic and I don't wish that suffering upon this wonderful show.

So, something you guys can also notice from Ian's posts and the wiki, and just from what the cartoon industry is like in general, that getting what you want out of your series, storyline and representation wise and all that is actually pulling teeth.

For an example of later episodes, things like a seemingly Radmond episode getting changed to rad and mikayla. Or Voxman having to be pretty heavily censored (although I'm proud of the subtext they managed so heavily) which is partially because, and this isn't to take away from wlw rep and how hard it is to get on air, but is more difficult to get outright mlm representation simply because- it's harder to censor.

After all, it's much easier to pull a "they're just close friends!" Thing for two fem presenting characters, than it is for two masc ones. It sucks and they shouldn't have to be censored across different countries at all, but it's just- how it is.

Which is why, realistically, as cool as the movie centering around a voxman wedding would be incredible, I don't think it would've made it past S&P. Not to mention, even if it somehow did, It'd either suffer the fate of being a TV movie, getting limited as hell views, OR best worst case scenario, a box office release which would get hate bombed by people for it's- everything. Because people suck. I mean, even not counting homophobic people there's a disturbingly high chunk of this fandom that hates Voxman- because... *checks wiki* Oh yeah, "Evil people not being perfect good guys = bad representation"

Also, cartoon network was- already starting to die by now, with less funding each year in the first place. Meaning we don't know if it getting that funding was even an option as time went on. And the idea of getting a longer season three, with the reveal being drawn out another season like they wanted, and then potentially never getting closure on- any of it? That's horrible even to think about.

Sure, the entirety of season 3 was rushed as hell. And I cry about all the missing stuff we'll probably never get, because well there's not even a cartoon network building to make this stuff in anymore, I'm glad that we have a finished storyline and understanding of where arcs would've gone to fill in things ourselves. I mean, getting to look into and imagine all the things we didn't get to see is much more fun than theorizing on an unfinished story.

So, yeah, I do wish that somehow, someway, we will get more someday. I'm at least glad we got a finished storyline and an ending that, while rushed, is still one of my favorites. I love let's fight to the end so much, I love how much I hate shadowy figure, and I love that I can be here making content for you guys!

Well look at that, it only took me seven episodes to write this whole thing, and I get to end this rant knowing Raymond was on screen. That's cool.

[blackfemmejeanvaljean]

my one lunch break is my one break and this is the coworker that was "helping" me in my class yesterday. And by help I mean she sat and a chair and left me to do everything by myself

[eureka-its-zico]

Residuals

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: You and Robby spent seven long years together until the day it ended. You’ve done your best to create space; to become invisible. You can’t miss what you don’t see. Unfortunately, the universe (Gloria and the Board of Directors) seemed to have missed the memo.

Pairing: Michael ‘Robby’ Robinavitch x Reader

Genre: Established previous relationship, slight age gap (by about 15 years give or take), a little bit of tension mixed in with a little bit of hate yearning, cause she’s a saucy angsty fic ok

A/N: So, I kept telling myself I wasn’t going to do this, but honestly, I’m such a sl*t for Noah Wyle and older men. I also kept running into there being just hardly any fics in general for this amazing show and so…here I am. Attempting to create my version with an OC that does have a last name (it's for the doctor purposes but also I hate that whole y/n, y/l/n stuff, ok? It just throws my ass off and throws me out of a story) and follows along with the episodes of the show. Idk how this will go or be received but I’m here wrecking myself. Much Love

Shout out to @viridian-dagger for looking this over for me and hyping me up when I feel like my shit is trash. I Love you. Also, thanks to @strangergraphics for the cute little divider.

Word Count: 3259

Next I

7:00 AM

“No, absolutely not. Ask someone else.”

The break room was the perfect place for Gloria’s early morning ambush. You’d barely pushed in the numbers on the keypad, the door swinging open when your gaze homed in on her position leaning against the small kitchenette. The words blurted out from a place deeply seeded in not being ready for her or the administration's early morning bullshit. You hadn’t even got to enjoy your coffee yet. 

You’d turned on your heel and raced back out the door in what could’ve been record time. Your hand tried to steady the sloshing of your coffee as you could feel Gloria hot on your heels. 

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask, Dr. Fullerton.”

“You’re right - I don’t. However, seeing you this early, Gloria is not a good omen for starting my day.”

There was nowhere in the entire trauma center that you could go to get away from her and, knowing Gloria, she wasn’t going to make it easy for you. Realistically, you understood that Gloria was just another cog in the corporate machine. She rode your ass - and every other medical professional in the system from doctors during residency to technicians and CNAs - because it’s what the big bad CEOs demanded. The hospital functioned on efficiency facilitated by money and if too many bad Yelp reviews arrived it systematically hurt numbers. Bad numbers equaled a bad flow of funds. 

Gloria no doubt listened to her bosses during an early morning meeting where they rattled off complaint after complaint that dealt with a showcase of data and numbers. Both, of which, the board constantly claimed, showed the true efficiency of the hospital - not the life-saving measures taken to keep people alive. No doubt its main focus rested on the emergency department downstairs, because, once again, Yelp reviews of massive wait times and poor satisfaction scores outweighed the expertise of attending doctors. 

You didn’t envy Gloria’s position of being hated for being said cog in the corporate machine. Her job focused on relaying the demands from the top. Gloria was forever the bad guy to staff whenever they noticed her no-nonsense demeanor coming towards them. It was hard to be sympathetic to her plight when she followed you around like a bloodhound. The woman was relentless.

“The board would like to see if applying additional support down in the emergency department would help alleviate time issues that are keeping patient satisfaction at a tremendous low.” 

Absolutely not. 

You would rather chew your arm off than be sent down there. Your retreat came to a halt as you turned to face her. There weren't too many places inside the hospital you could go, and you were willing to bet Gloria was willing to follow you anywhere until you conceded. Plus, you came to a full stop in front of the elevator, and no matter how much you’d like to magically teleport yourself inside of it, unfortunately, you were mortal and would just have to wait.

Gloria’s hands were interlocked in front of her middle - eyes drilling miniature holes in you that not that long ago used to make you squirm. That was back when you were just starting your internship - eager back then to make a great first impression. Terrified of being reprimanded for making an unpopular decision or speaking your mind. 

“Gloria, I’m in family medicine.”

“Last time I checked you started in the emergency department and helped out in intensive care.”

“Yes, great memory, Gloria. If you also recall, I moved to family medicine where I’ve been for the last couple of years.”

The transfer to family medicine was a hard pill to swallow. You’d grown accustomed to the craziness of the ER. The constant adrenaline rush that required you to always bring your A game. Where the anxiety was at an all-time maxed-out high where a simple mistake cost lives but a quick deduction could save them. Once you’d moved upstairs to help out Dr. Nave’s family practice, it’d been a huge adjustment. Eventually, once your body got used to the monotony of the days, you found you were finally able to sleep. To be semi-normal. 

There was no denying, however, that you left something important behind in The Pitt. Something you hoped you could leave there inside its sterile rooms and the overwhelming storm of emotions.  

“I’m not asking you to go back down there to answer every trauma call. I’m asking you to take your family medicine knowledge downstairs to help assess triage for minor issues -“

“You mean people who come in for chest colds,” you interrupted. 

“ - and help the senior doctors clear out these cases so they can focus on more immediate health care concerns.”

Gloria’s words crushed your small outburst and bore down on your shoulders, keeping you from trying to move away. Her hands were now connected at her elbows, which was her silent way of informing you she didn’t appreciate you trying to talk over her. That no would never be an acceptable answer. 

You felt the drag of your teeth against your cheek. The temptation to bite down to relieve your growing irritation was overwhelming but futile. No matter what argument you came up with, you knew Gloria was here to make sure what the board requested was done. 

Instead of bloodshed, you eased your frustration out inch by inch through your nose. Your eyes scanned over the shitty egg wash walls while you debated all of your available options, which were a big fat none. 

“How long?”

Gloria didn’t need clarification on what you were asking. The way she practically preened like a peacock let you know she knew she’d won. 

“As long as the board requires it.”

“I’ll do it just for today,” you interjected, ignoring her raised brow. “Today you can see if pulling me from Nave’s floor makes your charts or numbers move or whatever data it is you all look at. If it does nothing, today is my first and last day going down.”

Gloria considered your counterargument. The sharpness in her eyes brightened; the terms of this new agreement were revised without you knowing the new verbiage. The only thing you were sure of was that you could count on this small verbal agreement being drawn out in document form for you to sign later.  

“Alright, Dr. Fullerton. You’ve got a deal. I’m sure the board will agree. Now come on. If we walk down fast enough maybe, you’ll make it in time for shift change.”

She didn’t wait to see if you were going to follow. Why would she when Gloria knew very well you weren’t going to fight it, especially when the main reason for your denial currently wouldn’t be working today. 

Anniversaries were never really Robby’s thing.

You would never admit it, but your anxiety was fifteen feet away from grabbing you in a chokehold. 

Get a fucking grip.

It had been two years since you left the ER. Two years since Robby and you had called time on seven years together. Seven years of memories filled with all the good and bad, co-parenting Jake, and keeping your relationship secret until it wasn’t. The early years of walking to work together with quick kisses goodbye before you split up just before you turned onto the final street to the hospital. The both of you choose different entrances each time to try and not raise suspicion. 

It took Dana four days to figure out the two of you were together.

Dana was perceptive like that. Hell, she’d been the angel on your shoulder whispering hints that Robby just might like you as much as you liked him. 

“I told him to ask you out to dinner. He thinks you’ll say no.” “If he did ask, I should say no,” you countered.  Your eyes struggle to stay trained on the chart in front of you.  “Yeah, but I know you’ll say yes.” “And what makes you so sure about that, Dana?” “Because if you don’t stop giving each other googly eyes from across my nursing station I’m going to throttle you both.”

Robby had only been divorced from his wife for less than a year. You’d overheard snippets of conversations between Robby and Abbot, Dana, or Adamson about custody battles and visitations. The last thing you wanted to do was be a possible added stress to an already stressful situation. At least, that was the bullshit you kept telling yourself to try and stay away.

But Dana was right (she usually was, but you’d never tell her that). 

You couldn’t pinpoint a specific time when things started to change between the two of you. The coffee breaks on the roof looking out over the top of Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. The jokes that caused smiles to crest over his face, rivaled the glow from the sun's early morning rays. He told you later, in the med closet, how the sound of your laughter was something he looked forward to hearing; the warmth of it was enough to keep helping him make it through his shift. A sound he began to crave in the quiet corners of his home. You could still remember the phone calls and early texts. The caution and heavy breaths that harbored a desire that longed to reach out and consume the other. The two of you were equally afraid to be the one to take that first step over the bounds of professionalism. 

The two of you knew the dangers of playing with lingering touches and knowing glances. The way you both acted like you wouldn’t ultimately end up burned. You could still recall the way he’d traced his thumb across your lips. The possessive way his eyes followed the motion made the desire for him to close that space, to claim you, to take you, threatened to make you lose all self-control.

Eventually, you stopped listening to the warning signs of all the what ifs; of being the intern and worrying about how it would make you look. When Robby asked you out on that date you didn’t hesitate to say yes.

You didn’t think it was possible to fall in love with someone the way you did with Robby. He was so attentive; he was thoughtful in the most pragmatic ways - packing extra scrubs in your pack. Teaching you how to fish and the differences between the lures and bait. The way he took the time to explain the objects he carved from wood and how much pressure was necessary to create the grooves and pattern. The way his voice would sound as he read to you; the soothing vibrations of his baritone the safest place you could be with his fingers in your hair.

He carved out a life that made it possible for all three of you to co-exist. His son, Jake, becomes the deepest interwoven part of your life you never realized was missing. On days Robby had him, you planned camping trips up in the mountains to hike and fish. To go on museum trips into Jake’s latest hobbies with the two of you making sure to have his game day off to cheer embarrassingly loud for him in the stands. The shared looks of pain from beside each other on the couch while Jake practiced his clarinet upstairs when he thought he wanted to be in the school band. You got lost in furniture manuals, cooking dinners that ended a few times with questionable outcomes, and attempting to bake tarts and pies that led to a one-time usage of the fire extinguisher. The euphoria of loving someone and being loved so fiercely in return made the years feel weightless, and when Robby finally proposed it made so much sense to say yes. 

And COVID happened. 

The quarantine and the endless amounts of patients that just kept coming - that felt like, no matter what you did, they couldn’t be saved. Family and friends, you both knew were ravaged by the infection. There were no answers. No medical treatments that you knew for sure would be what would save them. It didn’t discriminate and took lives without mercy. You just came to work every day, exhausted, and fighting to do what you could to heal those you could. You showed up every day for your patients.

Then Adamson passed. 

There was no denying Robby blamed himself for what occurred with his mentor. It didn’t matter what you said. What Dana, Abbot, or anyone else said. The guilt weighed down on his conscience, pressed so violently, that eventually, Robby cracked under the strain. His grief was all-encompassing and the added loss that should’ve been experienced together, was left for only you to bear - widening the gap between you until it became a chasm. 

The last time you’d seen Robby he’d been leaving to go to work. The latest fight - the endless bitter silences that stretched on - tore at the fabric of your being. Fractured pieces you didn’t know how to pick up on your own no longer felt worth fighting for. So, you decided to remove yourself from the equation. 

When Robby came home from work that night you were already gone. Your engagement ring and house key sitting on a note that asked him not to contact you. He’d made it clear enough that there was no place for you in the new person that he was becoming - made it clear that your grief would be processed alone. 

And so that was how you ended up transferring to family medicine. How you made sure to steer clear of all the places Robby was known to frequent. You ignored, as politely as you could, texts from Dana. Refused to talk about him in a work capacity or to close friends. 

The truth was that you were still in love with Robby after all this time. The idea that someone else could ever make you feel as whole - as complete - didn’t exist. So, yes, you only agreed to come back down to the emergency department, where it all started, because you comfortably knew he wouldn’t be here. Dana, you could deal with her by using a little recon - you just needed to stay two steps ahead of her. Langdon was easier to deal with because his loyalty to Robby was absolute, which made you public enemy number one. For you, that meant he’d stay away from you on principle. 

You were in the middle of shoving down the growing dread that was threatening to spill out of you when you came around the north hall triage. It was morning rounds. It was the attending's job to give the early morning pep-talk, debrief about patients who came in last shift, and go over the board. What you found waiting for you was what looked very much like a fresh batch of interns and/or med students taking instructions from a doctor you knew painfully well. One that made you question if it was too late to back out and turn tail and run. 

“Oh, shit.” Dana huffed the words under her breath, but Robby caught them. The way each one dripped in a warning he should’ve heeded. “Gloria -” 

It didn’t surprise him to hear she was here. He’d been warned by Dana but what Robby hadn’t expected was to see you - you - standing beside her. 

You who he thought completely disappeared to the point you’d quit the hospital. You, who he thought of in the most inconvenient of times, who haunted him, and you who he wanted to fucking scream and curse at you but also ask how the fuck you’re doing because Jesus Christ…

He didn’t need this shit today.

At least you had the decency to look as uncomfortable as he felt.

“Good morning, Dr. Robby. I’m aware you and most of your emergency department know Dr. Fullerton. She used to work down here previously a few years back.”

“You could say that again,” Langdon muttered.

“I’m sorry why are you bringing a random fucking doctor down into The Pitt?”

The annoyance contrasted with the peaceful professionalism Gloria tried to hold together. But if she was going to bring random doctors down here, God, bring you fucking down here, he was damn sure going to make her work for it. Inch by irritating inch.

“We both know that Dr. Fullerton is not a hospital resident or an attending transfer. As previously stated, she worked down here in this very ED, with you no less. She also holds one of the highest Press Ganey scores in this hospital.”

“I’m sure she’s very proud,” his words ground out like he’d swallowed gravel.

Gloria shot him a warning look as she continued, “-Something I figure she could teach the new students and old physicians here. I’m bringing her down to assist Dr. McKay today in triage.”

“Let me guess - this either has to deal with the hospital's numbers or lack of working bodies down here. Am I right?”

“What a fantastic guess, Robby. It does indeed have to do with the hospitals' numbers and poor patient output. Based on those numbers alone today, if it shows Dr. Fullerton’s presence helps patient satisfaction go up and wait times decrease - even in the slightest - she’ll be staying here. Permanently.”

His jaw ticked violently. He wanted to bristle and tell her where to stick her metrics and numbers. To tell Gloria to get you the fuck out of his Pitt. Somewhere in his brain, his common sense slowly won out. It didn’t matter how much of a fit he threw; Gloria had every intention of making you stay. Down here. With him. 

Robby also knew, realistically, that the chances of you driving up productivity were high. You were a damn good doctor. One of the best. Adamson had made sure. Christ, Robby himself made sure. Fuck. The edges of his vision were beginning to tighten in glaring white; he needed to get away before he succumbed to a panic attack. 

He should’ve kept looking away, but he was fighting a losing battle trying to keep his eyes away from you. It’d been nearly two years since he came home to find you gone. Two years for him to think of the hundreds of thousands of questions that he would demand for you to answer if he ever saw you again. All those months of burying it all down, telling himself he got what he wanted, only for it to be dredged up, and on a day like today, he was already close to his breaking point.

You looked good. Great, even. Just as gorgeous as the first day he’d met you and begrudgingly, for a split second, he wondered how you saw him. If you were equally as fucked as he was.

“Make sure she stays with you up in triage, Dr. McKay. I don’t want to see her in my red zone.”

He didn’t wait to hear confirmation from Gloria or McKay. He didn’t bother to see if you understood he meant every word he said. You had no place down here. Robby needed to start his shift - to start the normalcy of seeing patients - before he completely forgot why he chose to come into work today. 

He needed to get away before all his resolve shattered. The easiest way to keep himself whole was to begin his day. To do his rounds and when he passed you, he did his best to pretend you didn’t even exist.

___________

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this and I hope you enjoyed it! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! Much love.

[bi-writes]

whats wrong with ai?? genuinely curious <3

okay let's break it down. i'm an engineer, so i'm going to come at you from a perspective that may be different than someone else's.

i don't hate ai in every aspect. in theory, there are a lot of instances where, in fact, ai can help us do things a lot better without. here's a few examples:

ai detecting cancer

ai sorting recycling

some practical housekeeping that gemini (google ai) can do

all of the above examples are ways in which ai works with humans to do things in parallel with us. it's not overstepping--it's sorting, using pixels at a micro-level to detect abnormalities that we as humans can not, fixing a list. these are all really small, helpful ways that ai can work with us.

everything else about ai works against us. in general, ai is a huge consumer of natural resources. every prompt that you put into character.ai, chatgpt? this wastes water + energy. it's not free. a machine somewhere in the world has to swallow your prompt, call on a model to feed data into it and process more data, and then has to generate an answer for you all in a relatively short amount of time.

that is crazy expensive. someone is paying for that, and if it isn't you with your own money, it's the strain on the power grid, the water that cools the computers, the A/C that cools the data centers. and you aren't the only person using ai. chatgpt alone gets millions of users every single day, with probably thousands of prompts per second, so multiply your personal consumption by millions, and you can start to see how the picture is becoming overwhelming.

that is energy consumption alone. we haven't even talked about how problematic ai is ethically. there is currently no regulation in the united states about how ai should be developed, deployed, or used.

what does this mean for you?

it means that anything you post online is subject to data mining by an ai model (because why would they need to ask if there's no laws to stop them? wtf does it matter what it means to you to some idiot software engineer in the back room of an office making 3x your salary?). oh, that little fic you posted to wattpad that got a lot of attention? well now it's being used to teach ai how to write. oh, that sketch you made using adobe that you want to sell? adobe didn't tell you that anything you save to the cloud is now subject to being used for their ai models, so now your art is being replicated to generate ai images in photoshop, without crediting you (they have since said they don't do this...but privacy policies were never made to be human-readable, and i can't imagine they are the only company to sneakily try this). oh, your apartment just installed a new system that will use facial recognition to let their residents inside? oh, they didn't train their model with anyone but white people, so now all the black people living in that apartment building can't get into their homes. oh, you want to apply for a new job? the ai model that scans resumes learned from historical data that more men work that role than women (so the model basically thinks men are better than women), so now your resume is getting thrown out because you're a woman.

ai learns from data. and data is flawed. data is human. and as humans, we are racist, homophobic, misogynistic, transphobic, divided. so the ai models we train will learn from this. ai learns from people's creative works--their personal and artistic property. and now it's scrambling them all up to spit out generated images and written works that no one would ever want to read (because it's no longer a labor of love), and they're using that to make money. they're profiting off of people, and there's no one to stop them. they're also using generated images as marketing tools, to trick idiots on facebook, to make it so hard to be media literate that we have to question every single thing we see because now we don't know what's real and what's not.

the problem with ai is that it's doing more harm than good. and we as a society aren't doing our due diligence to understand the unintended consequences of it all. we aren't angry enough. we're too scared of stifling innovation that we're letting it regulate itself (aka letting companies decide), which has never been a good idea. we see it do one cool thing, and somehow that makes up for all the rest of the bullshit?

[doodlenoodleboi]

Sally face head cannons

Authors note: If you don’t specify I’m gonna pick for you most of the time it’s gonna be headcanons, they tend to be easier and quicker to write.

TW: Not professional, might have misspellings and improper grammar, I just do this for fun. Nsfw, mentions of drugs, stoner Larry, Larry is 2 years older then Sal, some non accurate writing I haven’t watched or played Sally face in years but remember the general plot. Btw when this wrote Sal is 17-19

SFW

◦ Sal doesn’t have the best relationship with his father.

◦ Sal tends to get misgendered a lot to the point he doesn’t even correct people he couldn’t care less anyways and hates unnecessary confrontation.

◦ Sal keeps his glass eye on his bedside table and one nice he actually drunk out of the cup.

◦ Sal isn’t the best at saving money when it comes to video games. He doesn’t spend his money on much In high school besides games for his game boy and other systems.

◦ Sal loves rock music and listens to music whenever he can, he owns an old stereo along with a walk man and mp3 player. (Keep in mind his teen years are in the 90’s)

◦ Along with his hair Sal also ventured in make up in skincare.

◦ Because half of his face being disfigured he tried his best to at least look normal with make up and help it heal better with skincare.

◦ Sal has the worst split ends and uneven layers because he never actually had his hair cut properly he always has done it himself.

◦ Sal is rather geeky when it comes down to it, owning as much technology as he could by in the 90’s.

◦ Sal is most comfortable showing his face to Larry among anyone else almost like a big brother to him of sorts.

◦ Sal gets rather socially awkward when it comes to people liking him so you would have to be in his friend group to have a chance of a relationship or some established connection before hand.

◦ Once you and Sal become friends as he’s comfortable with you expect things like him painting your nails and rocking out to music

◦ If he does later show romantic interest in you before he shows you his face he will be anxious about what you’ll think about him after he shows you.

◦ He’ll even teach you how to play his guitar if you’re interested.

NSFW

F

◦ Sal Is obviously a virgin it’s hard to get close to him let alone take of his mask so you’ll have to have patience to get to this stage.

◦ For-play could be longer then the actual sex for the first time and he might back out from nervousness before you guys can even start.

◦ Sal is not a shy guy maybe introverted but not shy but moments like this make him extremely vulnerable so he’s flustered and embarrassed.

◦ If you find the courage to kiss him he has his mask on he’s whipped. He would be a flustered and embarrassed mess and he might even tell Larry about how exciting it was. You were probably his first kiss as well.

◦ Sal would be around 5 inches 5.5 hard (let’s be realistic here ain’t nobody taking much past that.) Just enough to reach the back of you’re and make you gag.

◦ Sal even if he’s isn’t pornhub but still likes to prep you, after all sex is a rather sacred thing so he tries his best to treat you with care even with his inexperience.

◦ He would probably be a nervous teenager at the back of Spencer’s trying to find lube (that doesn’t get used) and other things trying not to be seen. Covering up this purchases with a rock album or something of equal value.

◦ Sal is big on after care asking you how it was if it wasn’t obvious, he would be nervous after and still not realizing he actually did that.

◦ Sal isn’t big on giving hickeys but he doesn’t mind being especially on his jawline and neck. When talking to his friends he will just say it a bruise or injury just that’s always been there. But it’s almost obvious that it’s not.

◦ Once you’ve done it once he’s nervous to ask for you to do it again so he does enjoy make out session to keep him down.

◦ Sal didn’t heavily masturbate before hand honestly rarely doing it at all until he had sex once and now that’s all he thinks about ever since.

◦ He loves laying kisses against you when doing it but never hickeys as he’s a bit scared of hurting you.

◦ He holds your hands during sex for comfortability.

◦ His favorite positions would probably be missionary and cowgirl he’s a pretty vanilla switch.

◦ Mostly a service top and a shy bottom, it’s not like he’s generally shy he just gets embarrassed seeing you on top but overtime he gets used to it.

Sorry i accidentally deleted the request!

[tangerineastronaut]

hello can I get ateez members as doms? how they act with there subs in these relationship.

Dom!ATEEZ and Sub!Reader individual dynamics | ot8

Pairing: ot8 and their Dom!style Genre: ot8 reactions Requested: Yes w.c. 2.5k Warnings: BDSM dynamics, mentions of smut/sex/etc, discussion of punishments, dacryphilia A/N: what even is this I am so sorry this is so bad omg Please remember this is just my take. If you disagree, you're more than welcome to make your own! Don't take it personally 🫶🏽 Requests: Open (link below)

Requests | WIPs Masterlists: BTS | ATEEZ | GOT7 | Stray Kids

Hongjoong

Be afraid

^ When you’re bad (most of the time, u little shit)

Hard!Dom, strictest of the members

Brat tamer 100000% but doesn't want to be

Genuinely gets angry when you’re a brat, would prefer if you’d just listen to him

Punishments are meant to break you emotionally

Worst of all the members in that regard tbh

Will deny you things rather than physical discipline ~ praise, orgasms, affection

Wants you desperate and needy, it gives him control over you

Can forget to give you praise at times, does not get angry if you ask/remind him

“Ah, sorry. I’ve been busy, baby. Yes, I’m proud of you for going out today, I know you’ve been struggling recently. Did you eat at that cafe you liked? Did you remember to use my card? Why not? That's what it's for, love."

Blows money on you

Cannot stop buying you pretty things, especially clothes

Makes you try on the things he's purchased for you - usually ends with you getting fucked in whatever you had on last

Wants you to wear nice things when you go out to fancy dinners

Not very physically affectionate but will be if you need him to be

Will not punish you for being insecure, just wants to reassure you and make you feel beautiful

Sex is either quick and dirty or long and passionate

Fav positions are standing or missionary with your legs over his shoulders

Shower sex >>>

He's so damn busy there's not much other choice

Looks so fucking hot when he's got you pinned to the tile wall

Biting/marking - he loves to use his teeth on you

Don't you dare bite him back

Likes foreplay but prefers sex, is good at eating you out but would rather use his cock than his tongue

Is good at aftercare, though it's more of a standard, doesn't like pillow talk unless you need it

Will still make sure you're safe/comfy/loved and will do anything for you

Is rough, but can turn it off when he knows you need a softer side.

Seonghwa

Soft!dom

Gentle until he isn't

Strict, but not the strictest

Does not enjoy punishments as much as the others, but still wants to make sure you know your place

Does not understand the concept of being a brat, you're so good for him

"What do you mean no? Like no...what? I just asked you to come here, silly."

Rarely has to punish you anyway, he doesn’t have many rules

You break the rules on purpose sometimes

He’ll punish you harder if he thinks that’s the case vs you accidentally breaking a rule

Very snuggly

Will want you to just sit with him while he works with his legos

Loves to be held by you

Asks you for compliments

“Do you like this color on me?”

Will not scold you in public

Expect gentle touches and verbal correction

Hates seeing you cry, even if it's from an intense orgasm

Obsessed with aftercare

Will shower you with praise and tell you how well you did

"I'm sorry baby, I was rough today. Took me so well though, so pretty. Love it when you get on your back for me. Want me to wash your hair?"

Likes taking care of you in general, will mother you like his members (but worse)

"Why didn't you eat today?! C'mon, let's go to that noodle shop you like."

Sex is not super kinky but is almost always emotional

Pretty straightforward, wants you both to feel good and snuggle after

Likes getting head and giving head, but prefers sex over foreplay

Fav positions are spooning and intimate spaces like in a comfy chair with you in his lap

Soft kisses + him stroking your hair + thanking you for always being his good girl

Yunho

Cocky and playful

Neither soft nor hard, just likes to keep you guessing

Is silly unless he's in a bad mood

Likes to make you sit in his lap while he games

You like it too, he knows it

Will get pouty if you don't praise his efforts

Don't tease him while he plays

Fr don't

If you value your cervix, you will not tease this man when he's not in the mood for sex

"What's wrong, baby? You were whining for my attention, now you're whining that it doesn't fit? That's a fucking lie."

Size kink

Likes feeling bigger/taller/stronger than you

Expect to be teased over this, even if you're not that short

Loves taking selfies with you

A big puppy

Can be a big scary puppy

Doesn't scold you in public

Likes it when you know you're in trouble

Sweetheart but will do a 180

When he's stressed or in a bad mood he can be too rough

Sometimes it's hard to tell when it's okay to be silly and not

He will let you know

Breeding kink at its finest

Size kink + breeding kink = RIP ur ability to walk

"I know it's deep baby, shh...almost there..."

Likes making you beg

Loves to degrade you and then praise you in the same breath

Talks you through it

Very sweet, silly aftercare

Sex is not complete until you're a giggling, sleepy mess in his arms

Fav position is anything where he can manhandle you beneath him

Yeosang

Quiet dom

But not soft

Very strict but is not loud about it

Perfect brat tamer, but isn't one (you can't rile him up—most intuitive of the members and rarely rises to the occasion)

Most of his dominant side is only seen when you're alone

Does not scold you in public

Expects you to follow the rules and does not remind you

Goes straight to punishment

You cannot catch him off guard

Knows your moods before you do

Terrifyingly calm

"Is that how we're acting today? Okay."

Likes to edge you

Loves when you orgasm as soon as his cock goes in due to overstimulation

^ will continue fucking you anyway

Thinks you're prettiest when you're crying

"That good, huh? You're blushing baby...such pretty tears."

Fucks you sitting up, likes it when you cling to him and wants to feel your tears on his shoulders

Eye contact >>>

So fucking calm it's scary, truly

Like imagine you've fucked up in public and you know it, this mf just gives you the gentlest of smiles

He likes you anxious

Sex is deceptively rough

You would not expect it but he likes it to hurt

He wants you to fight back

That grip strength is not to be taken lightly

Fav position is missionary or in a car with you in his lap

Aftercare is pretty strict, he has a routine

Bathroom, water, bed, letting him hold you

Prioritizes you afterwards since he knows he can be rough

Wants you to tell him about your day as though he didn't just rail you into next tuesday

San

Very traditional dom vibes

Does not hold back on punishments like hwa

Expect an equal amount of praise and correction, heavily values both

Big on body worship, either you on him or vice versa

Will want you to kiss his chest and shoulders and remind him how safe he makes you feel

Protective, but not possessive

Best dom for daddy issues

Will tell you he's proud of you but fuck you into the mattress a few minutes later

^ while still telling you he's proud of you

Most fair punishments, typically physical but not cruel

Spankings, being made to take it on the floor, being tied down, etc etc

Loooooves tying you up

Huge on boundaries and safewords

All the members are but San prefers constant check ins

"How are we, baby? Can you still take it? Use your words, pretty girl."

Sex lasts a loooooong time from foreplay to aftercare

Like, expect to spend an entire evening in the bedroom

Only because he loves to warm you up beforehand with a few orgasms

Loves it when you orgasm

Edging is not necessary, he wants you to have as many as possible until you're overstimulated

Follows your lead during aftercare, whatever you need

"Did so good for me. What do you need from me, baby? A massage? I can do that. Love you so much. Did so well tonight."

Will let you sit in his lap while he works

Likes it when you tease him, but won't punish you right away

Makes you wait for it

"Hi baby. Remember what you did earlier? Let's figure out how to make you say sorry without words."

Fav positions are you in his lap or lying on the counter/table

Mingi

BRAT TAMER

and loves it

Will encourage you to act out just so he can punish you

Literally begging for a reason

"Please baby. Tell me no one more fucking time. The kitchen table is right there and I'm hard as fuck."

Mean and you love it

Is going to bend you over any surface when you give him the slightest inclination that you're about to act up

Effortlessly attractive, actually unfair

Genuinely does not know how wet you are simply because he's pinning you down

Lives for his own pleasure and you're along for the ride

DO NOT think he doesn't care about you getting off tho—

—and do not let that man's mouth near your pussy if you know what's good for your health

Addicted to eating you out

Mingi demands few things of you as his sub, but allowing him to ravish your pussy is a requirement

You WILL sit on his face and you WILL cry and he WILL hold your hips so you can't squirm away while he sucks your clit and makes you cum for the third time

Uses it as both a reward and punishment

That overstimulation will have you in tears

He does not care

Sex lasts a little longer than average simply because you have to pry him off of you

Impatient when it comes to you and your attitude

Punishment is always physical

Loves to spank you for misbehaving

Not the kinkiest but probably the most hypersexual of the members

LOUD sex

Aftercare is not really organized but still very involved. Expect kisses, a very clingy man, and cuddling

Loves you with your clothes on too

Can forget to give you praise, but shows you he's proud in his own ways

"You made this? Holy shit, it's amazing. My baby can cook??"

Kissing the top of your head, just because he can >>>>

Does not scold you in public—probably has not realized you've done something that warrants scolding

Is possessive and VERY jealous

Like Hongjoong, he knows when to turn it off if you need him to be gentle with you

Wooyoung

A fucking? brat dom?

Will ignore you for attention

You can't outbrat the brat

Big on silent treatment as long as he thinks you can emotionally handle it

Very touchy feely, likes grabbing you and holding you against him

Has a range of looks to give you to tell you when you've fucked up

Hates when other men stare at you, will absolutely stare back

Loves PDA the most out of the members

Does not care if you're in public, will scold you when needed

Will also tease you just to see you squirm

Is not above things like vibrating panties when you've been acting up

Loves to use his hands during punishment or praise

Expect handprints on your ass

May as well get them tattooed on there tbh

Whiny when he wants your attention

Can sometimes be too much

"Are you okay? Was that too hard?"

Likes to make you cry

Enjoys pissing you off since you can't do anything about it

Imagine getting fucked daily by your biggest opp

"Aww, are you mad? Huh? I can tell. Cry me a river while you take this cock, baby."

a menace, tbh

Sex is kinky af

DIRTY TALK mf won't shut up as it is and rambles when he's inside you

"Take it, baby. That's it, just like that. So fucking pretty. You just open those legs when I come near, huh? An obedient little slut when she expects cock."

Not super long sex but can happen multiple times a day

Possessive and jealous

Takes lots of pictures of you

^ Doing anything

"Hold still, I'm taking a pic. Can you tilt your head? Your toothbrush is in the way."

Aftercare is forehead kisses and praise, whining when you have to get up.

Big heart, loves giving you compliments and seeing you shine

Is infinitely proud of you and will not stop telling you so

Likes to do domestic things with you like cooking

Takes you on cute little dates rather than big fancy dinners

Do NOT let him hear you talking bad about yourself

Jongho

Loves being a dom the most

Similar to San, very straightforward, traditional dom

Unlike San, has a cruel streak

Basically a combination of Hongjoong and San

He feels the best when he spoils you

Wants you to buy anything you want

Obsessed with you fr

Wants to make love to you any time he can

Will pin you down but...romantically??

Master of seduction, likes you warm and ready for him

Takes you to fancy dinners and then fucks you in the car on the way home

Loves having his cock worshipped by you

Can eat pussy but prefers seeing your lips wrapped around him

Calls you good girl more than anything

"Did you take your medicine this morning? Good girl."

Isn't jealous at all

Doesn't have to be, he knows you're his

When he catches other men staring at you he feels proud like "yeah, she's mine."

Extremely physically affectionate but only in private

Gentlemanly in public, his hand is usually at the small of your back

In private he just wants to hold you

Loves picking you up

Will pet your hair and pull you in for kisses while he asks about your day

Loves your hair btw

Like, wrapped around his insane grip while he fucks you from behind

Dirty talk

"That's it, baby. Look so pretty like this. You've been wet all day, huh? Just waiting for me to get home and make it better? How many times did you touch that pussy thinking of me?"

Not super kinky, but sex is still intense

Does like to blindfold you occasionally

Likes it when he comes home from work to find you naked in bed, where you're supposed to be

"Is this for me?" he'll ask, sliding his hand over your bare ass.

Doesn't even get fully undressed before he's inside you, he's only impatient when it comes to you

Breeding kink but AUTHENTIC. Like, wants you pregnant (only when you're ready) will probably find you absolutely irresistible when pregnant

Aftercare is whatever you need but will always include water and cuddles

Very protective of you, scolds you for being clueless at times

"Why the hell did you take an uber? You should've just called me. Who knows what kind of people are out there!"

Will get angry with you but you're literally the gem of his life, he treasures you more than anything

[yup-no-way]

Astro Observations pt. 2

Well hello there! I was not rlly active ever since my last post given I am now being absolutely obliterated by uni assignments and projects(save me).But, I’m back now and I am striving for a more consistent schedule with my posts. I hope everyone is doing well and taking care of themselves(kiss xoxo). I was kind of hoping to start doing some tarot here as well, I’ll see how that works out. I am leaning towards pick a pile general readings, or smth like that, just to practice my tarot skills. I am also thinking of doing a master-list once I have more content so people can navigate it easier.

Now let’s get into the blog!

These observations are based on my personal experiences so don’t take it as full facts. These placements can also be influenced by other things in someone’s chart like degrees, houses and aspects. Also if u have any suggestions for what content you’d like to see feel free to let me know. English is not my first language lads so don’t drag me for grammatical errors. xoxo

Leo sun/Sun 1h: genuinely determined people. It’s like these people knew from a very young age what exactly they wanted. They really move through life with a purpose and that shows through their work or personal relationships. Also depending on what other placements they have, they tend to be quite assertive when they genuinely know what they want. Also noticed that it’s important for them to have partners that push them to become better or overall partners that are determined. They can’t stand lack of purpose or laziness in people.

Taurus placements: so this applies mostly to Taurus stellium, Taurus in big 6, MC or NN Taurus. While it’s true that these placements strive for comfort, a lot of people dim down this to just money or assets. For every Taurus placement(mostly depending on the remaining of the chart or even the environment the grew around), the definition of comfort will be different. For some it’s as simple as a comfortable house but to others it can be a stable relationships that bring comfort. It’s not all about money and assets but you have to admit these people are also heavily motivated by money most of the time because it can bring a sense of stability in their lives. But again, for a lot of these people their idea of comfort is subjective and it’s not all ab food, clothes or money.

Virgo sun: so this placement is fairly disliked (at least that’s what I saw online), but I don’t think all the hate is deserved. I just think Virgo placements are just like an onion(stay with me now), the more you get to know them, the more you discover(good or bad). Very interesting people overall, just not all people have the patience to deal with them. One thing that I noticed is that this placement is not the biggest people person; like they will interact with you and all but it’s out of pure necessity. They are fine by themselves and don’t feel the need to always chat with people. Buuuut once they find someone they care about, it is very hard for them to let them go. They will be very protective of the ones they care about and depending on other placements(like maybe they have some water placements), they will even tend to be very receptive to people’s emotions. For example, if their partner is sad, they’ll feel it straight away. You feel a bit off, they’ll know and they’ll ask you ab it for sure. Overall, they r hard to get to know but they aren’t hard to understand(in the sense that they r clear with their communication). If they think you are worth their time, they wont hesitate to “invest” in you.

Mars/Venus in 2h: Now remember when I said that Taurus placements aren’t all about money. Well 2h placements are. These people love money and one of their biggest motivation is life is money. They will 100% be more inclined to date someone from a well off family just for the stability it has to offer. They are also kind of blessed in life in this context. Money does seem to gravitate towards them(but be aware Mars 2h cause u can obtain money fast but spend it just as fast, just mind your spendings or you won’t really be able to keep anything you earn). If you have any of these placements and you are into astrocartography, I would highly suggest u move to one of these lines(mind your aspects tho, make sure there is an easy flow of energy in your chart in that area). Love this placement overall, but be mindful of your relationship with money since I noticed for some people, they tend to let themselves be consumed by the greed for more and they end up with an unhealthy mindset where they could potentially sabotage their life for the sake of more abundance. But if you keep that in mind you should be grand.

Big 6 different elements: If you have multiple elements in your big 6, then I would genuinely say you’re blessed. It’s honestly quite refreshing to have all elements or more than 2 elements in your big 6 since it can really diversify your personality. It also makes you quite an adaptive person. Most people that I’ve met with these placements are good in multiple areas and seem to be overall really balanced people. But one thing I have to say, they at least once have gone through a moment in their life where they didn’t know who they were. And I’m not talking about what everyone goes through, like your average identity crises when you’re young and you want to discover yourself. I mean a full blown out identity issue, where they never feel like they quite fit anywhere and no one fully understands them. It’s hard sometimes cause having so many different elements they feel like they can get along with anyone really, but they don’t feel like others will ever truly understand them. These people also are good as mediators or they tend to be quite open minded. If un evolved can get two faced, if evolved, honestly one of the best people you’ll know. Lots of love to yous and I hope you guys figure out your stuff!

Ok so this was it for today! I hope you guys enjoyed this post! I tried something new with the layout and I think it looks quite cute. I’m going to experiment a lot with how I display my content but I hope you like this one so far! I am also thinking of doing an intro blog just to get to know me a little. But for now just refer to me as A.Please stay safe and take care of yourself! xoxo

[thedivinetarot]

My baby used to dance underneath my architecture

What will your spouse love about you?

☆How to chose the perfect pile for you?

1) Close your eyes.

2) Clear your mind.

3) Take a deep breath.

4) Ask the question in your head. And then open your eyes and the picture you're drawn to the most is your pile.

☆ Note:

- Thank you guys for 300 followers. I'm really happy and grateful to have you all in this sacred space of my mine.

- This is a general reading for the collective or whoever read the post. So, take what resonates for you as a person.

- I usually do an energy check for each pile so that the reading can resonates as much as possible to the reader.

- In this reading we are going to know what your spouse love the most about you.

- This reading can be applied on your current partner or future spouse. Please don't read it for your crush or someone you are briefly dating; this is a totally different situations.

Lots of love ❤

Arya

Pile 1 - Last dance

Your current energy

I see that this pile is spending time with their family and specifically with an old man. It could be your grandpa or your father or someone old in your family. If not then there's a man in your family who is sick and you are taking care of them. I see that it's not going to be that serious they will get well soon, they need a little rest and everything will be alright. I see that some people in this pile have been dealing with poverty or lack of money/ financial support. I see you not doing anything about it, you feel like this thing is out of your hand. Or (another energy I'm picking up on) I feel like this pile have someone sick or died in their family and they cannot pay the hospital or funeral bills which is leading them to feel powerless and in debt (I'm so sorry if this is you). Another case I'm seeing is that this pile may lost their money on something they're addicted to; could be liquor, food, drugs (I see a thing not a person to be specific). I see also that this addiction is so strong you feel like you cannot put a boundary for and it drive your insane. You might be addicted to shopping or thrifting? Anyways, I see also that you are working so hard on that addiction because it is unhealthy for you pile 1. I asked for an advice for you and I got that you need to be more assertive about your feelings pile 1, don't let them drive you insane. I see there's an ungrounded energy here. Like someone can't set still. The cards are telling me that you need to be more assertive and take small baby steps solutions in order for you to reach where you want to be.

What will your spouse love about you?

Well, I like the energy here. I see that you are a multidimensional person with many and many layers. Your future spouse will loovvve your sense of logic. Even if you are emotional or think with your heart instead of your head. He will love how your brain works I see that he will love also how feminine and sweet you are. You might be curvy or fat but your spouse love those curves or fatness. He love how motherly you look. You see those girls who are overweight/curvy or chubby but there's something so comforting and motherly about them that you want to hug them and take care of them? That's what your spouse will love and this is how he sees you. I see that you are also someone who hates injustice, you hate how people treat each other like trash. You hate it when someone is treated unfairly in front of you. Or you might be someone who was treated unfairly because of how you look or your personality but don't worry your spouse is going to love it. Also I see that you are someone who is very assertive and you see things from a different angle. I see that you have a very structured routine that is in order. Also I see that people in this pile are quite spiritual, they believe in Karma and justice. Your spouse will literally love all of those things about you. Also I see he will love how persistent and stubborn you are. You might be someone who plant the seed, protect it, nurture it until is become a beautiful tree then you set under it to enjoy the fruit of it and it's shadow. Pile one you are an amazing person and your spouse see how much you put effort into anything and everything. You might be someone with the motto " Take care of your own garden if you want to attract butterflies and if butterflies didn't come then you have a wonderful garden to enjoy". Also I see that this pile is not afraid to walk away from situations that is not serving them anymore; I see that your spouse love how you are not too attached to them. You are not clingy pile 1 and your spouse respect that. I see that you love challenges and you embrace it with a huge smile on your face. You like to the challenge and you like the thrill and you like how much it changes you.

Placements for this pile

Aries, Taurus, Libra, Cancer, Pisces, Aquarius, Neptune, Moon, Saturn, Mercury dominant in your chart, stallium in the 1st/7th/2nd/11th/4th/12th house.

Pile 2 - smiling Christine

Your current energy

This pile is taking care of someone young like a sibling or you might be a babysitter who is working on their independence by taking care of children. I see a young adult here around 18 to 24 years old. I see that this pile is determined on making their dreams come true. You might be saving money or you started to take an action towards a hobby that might get you attention from the public, like a tiktok account or IG or any form of social media. You might be someone who was held back by limiting beliefs about yourself but that changed now and you are more confident in your ability and your talents. I see a tarot reader here or someone who is psychic or a witch like me (hello fellow witches, tarot readers or psychics). I see that you are discovering your talents finally and working on either to get noticed by the public for them or to improve them before you become a celebrity or known person for that talent. I see also that there's someone here who is learning about their roots or your own culture. Your parents might moved to another country and never really had the chance to introduce you to your culture but now you are allowing yourself as an adult to get to know your roots and culture. Another thing I'm picking up on is that people in this pile are very independent, they do their own thing, take care of themselves but there's this nostalgic feeling to your childhood or when you were a child. I see also that you might be someone who their grandparents was your entire childhood. Like they might have took care of you or you grew up around them. I see that for some of you; your grandmother was a witch or a healer or knows alot of tarot or astrology. And if not then she might be so familiar with religion (any nothing specific) and you took this gift from her and now your psychic abilities or gifts are being developed. Hey! Also I'm picking up on something else pile 2, the wheel of fortune is finally spinning your way. So, if you have been unlucky in your life then the luck is on your side from now on. I see that you worked very hard on yourself and now everything is going to be the way you dreamed of wanted. I see also that your dreams carry a significant meaning or warning do not ignore them okay?

What will your spouse love about you?

Okay, your spouse is going to love how patient you are. You might be someone who things never really worked out for them or your spouse's life was really that good until you entered their life and boom everything turned out to be soooo good. I think because you are a healer or a witch then you have a good karma to you or your energy is so uplifting that your spouse's life got turned upside down for the better after you entered his life. I see that you are literally that girl who is very nurturing, caring and gentle. I'm picking up on capricorn placements. You are someone who is the boss (and no one is going to handle this side of you like your spouse). I see that you might be someone who is business oriented, you are someone who is very practical. I'm picking up on someone with earth mercury, no one can fool you because you can freaking find out. I see also that you are not really afraid of loneliness, you can easily turn it into solitude and enjoy your time (queen I respect that 💋👑). I see also that you are very loyal and marriage/ relationship material. You might be someone who gives a lot of dating advice to your friends and get the ick from people who date dusties. I also see that you are so sexy or controlling. You know those jealous wifey or girlfriends who are very controlling and obsessed with their partner? You might be one of them and your spouse ADORE that!. Anyways, I see also that you might be too attached to your spouse and he love it. I'm getting pluto-venus aspects in your chart. I'm also hearing obsessed and loyal and your spouse love that. Idk why but I feel like this person will love your private area or how sensual you are. There's something sexual here that I shouldn't write but I will anyways. This person love how your private area feels on his pepe and if you are a man or masculine then you are going to love how she feels (if you know what I mean), I guess he like to stay inside and enjoy or he might stay there a little longer just to be close. I feel like this pile is shy too and you look adorable when you get shy and blush.

Placements for this pile

Virgo, Cancer, Aries, Capricorn, Saturn, Taurus, mercury in earth sign, mercury, jupiter, venus dominant in your chart, stallium in the 1st/2nd/10th/4th/6th house. Pluto-venus making aspects in your chart.

Pile 3 - Christine in front of a mirror

Your current energy

Oh, I feel so sorry for this pile. Guys you might be dealing with a lot right now. I see that you are carrying your emotional baggage on your back refusing to let it go. I see that this pile are very overwhelmed by those emotions. I feel like there's a relationship with someone with Aquarius placements that really ended but you are refusing to believe that this person is gone and will never return. I see that you are nostalgic to them and you miss them a lot. You miss when you both were together having fun and hanging out. You are refusing to let this person go because you think they are the one but they are not. It is not necessary that this relationship is karmic. But I'm seeing that you are refusing to heal and move on you are literally getting yourself stuck by your own hands. Please try to rewire your brain, trick it to think that you'll be fine without that person. I see this lack will be over because your spirit angel is telling me that your soulmate will soon enter your life pile 3! How wonderful. This person will be blonde, chubby and cute. He will take care of you. Also, they are telling me that you need to put a FULL STOP to that situation/connection and stop hanging there in hope that the ex/old person will return. Your soulmate will soon be in your life how magnificent is that? Anyways what you actually need more than anything is to understand that life is abundant of choices and that one person was a lesson for you to grow and learn something new. Spirits are encouraging you to learn how to put boundaries (healthy ones) and do not get too attached to that person or the new one. You need to love them and embrace that feeling without getting attached to them. That's how love works, you chose to love a person but you are not attached to them. No, you are fine without them and everything is alright. Also try to get out of your comfort zone. Learn about detachment and your attachment style so you can love freely.

God bless you pile 3 I wish you healing and peace.

What will your spouse love about you?

Hehe, I see that your spouse love how quarrelsome you are. You like to debate with them. You like the thrill of proving your point of view. I feel like you are an ENTP Idk why I get that feeling. I see also might be someone who is balanced and connected to the higher source of power or God. You might be someone with active crown chakra, you are not attached to material things like other people. Like you know that you were born to die, listen to born to die by Lana Del Rey if you want to. I see that you may be your spouse's type. I see that this man is literally manifested you. I'm also picking up on the lyric of "I'm your dream come true" feather by Sabrina Carpenter. You are this person's dream come true. Also you might be someone who is firm and still. There's this firmness and stillness in your opinions and views that can't really be changed. You are a predictable person and your spouse love how he can predict your actions. I also see that you are very independent and you have your own things and your own life. The keyboard typed wlw (woman love woman) so you might be in a same sex relationship too. Anyways, what your spouse doesn't really like is how much you carry on your shoulder. You might be someone who was hyper independent or was single for a very long time that you cannot allow your spouse to help you. I'm picturing someone who used to do alot of things alone and never really dated anyone for a long time so you are used to doing your things for yourself. I see also that you might like traveling? Or you love to learn about cultures? Yeah it can be a thing. I also see that your spouse can be from a different city or different country. The cards are telling me that you are very childish and naive or look like that. You might be someone who experienced poverty or lack of money or financial stability. Your spouse want you to know that he is going to spoil you rotten and take care of you. Also he want you to know that both of you will build an empire together so keep yourself open for that. I see also that your spouse is a master manifesto sooo he probably manifested someone like you into his life. There's something here about your looks, he might also like how you look like. I see that he will have his venus in your ascendant or your mars in his ascendant because the chemistry between you two is undeniable.

Placements for this pile

Sagittarius, Gemini, Leo, Aries, Pisces, Cancer, Jupiter, mars, mercury, moon as dominant planets in your chart. Stallium in the 9th/1st/4th/3rd/5th/12th house. For the mbti ENTP, ENFP and ESFP.

Pile 4 - Enchanting Vanity

Your current energy

Hmmm okay, this pile here is being pursued or confused between two people. I see that you might be liking someone for how they look and the other because of their money or because you see something with them in the future. There's conflict here and it is in you pile 4. This pile, I believe that they are being confused between those two people and who is their twin flame. You might be mistaken your twin flame for someone who is not or the opposite. Like, you might think that this is not your twin flame but they are. I see also that you are very restless. And you cannot truly see who is your person. The cards are advising you take time alone and reflect on your values. I see that you are afraid to be alone and independent. You are afraid to show your weakness and vulnerable side to people which lead you to overthink or obsess over the outcome. So, I guess it is better for you pile 4 to just set alone and face that. Face your fears or vulnerability and don't obsess over the outcome. Also this pile is like pile 3, they need to detach and practice mindfulness in order for them to see the truth. I will give you a tip about detachment; all you have to do is to imagine that what you are going through is a story someone is telling you. Then use logic to analyze the story that the imaginary person have told you to decide whether you should or shouldn't take an action or not and if not action then a solution. Imagine for example, that a friend came to you for a problem, how will you help them? Will you take a step back to see the bigger picture? What is a good solution you will give to that friend? And so on and so forth. About the two people you are seeing, reflect on your values and see who exactly have the similar values as you. I'm also seeing one of them is cancer and the other is taurus and if not then you might have those placements. I'm pretty sure that the universe is going to guide you towards a solution, you need to be open I order to see the synchronicity that is going to give you the answer.

What will your spouse love about you?

I see that this pile work really hard to keep themselves fit and in a good shape. You might be someone who was overweight previously and you work very hard to not go back to what you were. Your spouse love and respect how you take care of yourself. He love how you care about your health. I see also he hate to see you overthinking but love it when you allow yourself to be vulnerable in front of them. The cards also are telling me that your spouse love how you forgive people and move on, you might be someone who is not spiteful towards people who hurt you, you heal and wish them to heal instead of hating on them nonstop. I see that you don't forget but you forgive. I see also that you have this inner power to you that make your spouse go insane for you. You might be someone who is into manifestations and the law of attraction and other stuff related to this. You might even manifested this person and he is in awe of you. I see that you are very patient, very strong headed. What is yours will find you and you do not chase you attract. He might love your family or your roots or your culture. I see a culture difference here like pile 3 so go read it if you want to. Anyways, I see that he also admire your private part and if you are a man then she might like your thing. I see that they (your spouse) will LOVE your area so much and think that it is sooo feminine. You might be someone who knows how to take care of that place and you keep it shaved and clean. I'm also picking up on hygiene, so you might be someone who always shower and keep themselves shaved and fresh. You might use expensive perfume or you just looveee to shower yourself with perfume after you finish showering. You might also have a long body care routine like those pretty girls on YouTube. All of those stuff is really something very admirable by your spouse. You might be someone who is quite adventurous and any chance to travel somewhere is un-wasted by you. Like you can't set still in one place for a long time. You need to travel and discover. You are very open to try a lot of things. Open to cultures, you like to try new different food, different places, and you cannot handle the idea of staying in the same place always.

Sorry if this pile was short the messages was straight forward.

Placements for this pile

Earth placements (taurus, virgo and capricorn). Gemini, cancer, moon, venus, Saturn, mars as dominant planets. Stallium in the 10th/6th/2nd/4th/3rd house in your chart.

Post date: Fri- 13t of sep/2024

*Feedback is appreciated

[cupidkenji]

Doctor, Doctor, please listen!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Chubby!Fem!reader Cw; Tension (I tried), cursing, the smallest physical description of reader in the last portion (just mentions their stomach going over their pants), reader has scars from previous cases, rivals to lovers?, lmk if i'm missing smth Summary: 3 times you called him doctor, 3 times he wonders why. Disclaimer: Reader is always written with a chubby/bigger person in mind but I don't really ever describe their bodies that much cause it's x READER and every body has a different body <3 WC: 3,596 I am literally so obsessed with criminal minds somebody save my soul OBLIVOUS IDIOTS WHO WANT EACH OTHER MY BELOVED. Title from mad hatter by Melanie Martinez don't even @ me for that

1.

“...she will be an important part of making your team function quicker. We fought hard to get her here. I ask that you all treat her with respect and not make me intervene.” 

Strauss finished her introductory spiel with a familiar “mom-glare” towards the team, walking away once she finished her speech. Unfortunately, her departure left you standing alone in front of the most intimidating man you’ve ever seen and four of his team members. You had been practically still until now. You hated the pressure of everyone’s eyes on you, causing a general freeze response to the stress of a new team. Fawn, you thought, the newest addition to the fight or flight categories and also the lovely thing forcing you to practically disassociate in front of your new boss and co-workers. 

“Welcome, Dr. L/N. We’ve heard good things. I’m Aaron Hotchner, I supervise the team.” He was leaning on the table before he stepped forward to shake your hand as he spoke. “This is Emily Prentiss, Jenifer Jareau, Derek Morgan, and Doctor Spencer Reid.” He pointed towards the corresponding people as he spoke of them. “Agent Rossi is away right now, and you’ll meet our T.I. later…she’s been excited.” If you hadn’t been good at your job, you’re sure you would have missed the way his lips turned up slightly at the edges when mentioning the woman. He didn’t seem so scary anymore, more like a father of the team. You’d been expecting a drill sergeant - your last team leader could have given a bull a run for it’s money with how much aggression that guy had. You welcomed the rush of excitement you felt at the discovery, mentally shaking off the stiffness you were carrying. 

“I’m happy to be here, sir. I’ve heard good things about the team, too. Your boss seems to think highly of your capabilities.” You addressed the room as you spoke. Public speaking was a skill you were still trying to master, so you practiced whenever you could. 

Your statement earned a chuckle from the table. Nobody bothered to explain the reason. You figured it was too much history to sum up on the spot. Your eyes wanted to linger on Reid. He seemed so young, and you wondered if he’d been told that his entire career - lord knows you had too. A fellow doctor. You assumed he was a bit of a stickler about the title, as even his boss kept it tacked onto his name when introducing him. You’d originally hoped to find some comfort in the man, on the surface he seemed a lot like you. He was probably too smart for his own good as well. Given the way he was staring at you, though, you felt the realization sink in that the man had no intention of welcoming you. 

“Why exactly do we need another profiler?” His voice held no malice as he spoke in the direction of his boss. There was more curiosity in his voice than anything, however you did pick up on the sense of superiority that sat just beneath the surface of his words. You guessed that’s how he behaved generally - as though he was superior. Still, your head tilted slightly to the side at the question. 

Damn. Tough crowd. 

You saw the intake of breath in Hotchner as he prepared to defend your place here but you spoke before he could start. “While I am a profiler, sir, first and foremost I am a psychiatrist - a doctor. As I’m sure you heard from Strauss, the board is unhappy with your recent efficiency rates and would also like to aid your team in dealing with mental health crises. I’ve spent my entire life studying the effects and conditions of the mentally diseased brain. I’ll be able to tell you the most efficient and effective way of interacting with these individuals, along with more accurately predicting their actions and methodology. I’m an agent, I took the same oath everyone here did but I was brought here for my expertise.” You were on a bit of a tangent, you knew that, but something about the smug feel of the man forced an emergence of competitiveness. He looked at you so indifferent, and you couldn’t help the tiny sparks of anger lighting beneath your skin. You kept a friendly disposition towards the man - you were a professional, after all, not a teenager - but you sensed a rivalry sprouting it’s roots.

The others at the table suppressed their smiles or looked down to hide it. Nobody had ever challenged Spencer like that. They could all feel he was a tad bit territorial. He was the guy people went to when they needed to know something. He was the Doctor of the group. They didn’t think he would take too kindly to another one encroaching his land. They saw the way he was tense, even more so after you responded. It was a riveting sight, though. The lot of them saw Spencer as a younger brother, and him meeting his match was something they were all so excited to see.

“Play nice, pretty boy.” Derek muttered to him, Spencer was slightly slouched in his chair now, not losing sight of you. Derek followed suit, turning his attention towards you. “We’re glad to have you, Doctor. We’ve spoken about an addition like you before, I’m glad to see the higher ups finally listened. I look forward to working with you - excuse me.” He left once his phone rang. 

The others took his exit as an excuse for their own, everyone giving you a warm welcome as they left. You reciprocated happily, telling everyone they could just call you by your first name, never having been one for titles. ‘There’s one difference.’ You thought, even your internal dialogue was bitter. Aside from him, there was a warmth here that you had been desperate to find in your last team. If you had to work passive aggressively with one uptight man in exchange for a team like this - you were going to take that deal. 

He refused to leave it seemed. He just sat looking inquisitively at the table, occasionally extending his stare to look at you before returning. How did you two end up alone in this room?

“Are you gonna have a problem with me, Doctor?” You shifted slightly on your feet. A notoriously nervous sign, one he definitely picked up on.

He stared again. It was his mind that kept him rooted in his seat. You were fucking alluring. He’d never met someone so like himself in his line of work. He was being a dick and he knew it but it seemed to be instinctual - some type of precaution, maybe. He didn’t know why you were being so respectful. Doctor. God, he didn’t know if the title had ever sounded so good being directed at him. His frustration only rose as he thought on the issue more. He wasn’t welcoming, it would be so easy to drop the formality, something he knew you knew would get on his nerves. But you didn’t. It didn’t seem like a question of dignity. You didn’t seem like the type to refuse a little pettiness - he sure wasn’t the type either. A thought stirred, an unsafe one he wanted to squash immediately but one he also couldn’t help but lean into. Did you want a power imbalance?

“No.” He stood abruptly, obviously still focused on the thoughts in his head. “Welcome to the team.” He addressed you one last time and then walked out of the room.

You followed shortly after, ready to make home on your couch and be done with being the newbie for the day. Your stress would follow you home, though, as the last thing you heard before you left the building was “Oh my god they’re perfect for each other.”

2.

The first few weeks were always the hardest. This was something you knew and were prepared for but it did nothing to calm your nerves. You’d been on countless missions having worked this job for a while now, but this was an entirely new dynamic to learn. You were an outsider for the first time in four years and it was scary. This case was shaping up to be a rough one, too. A man was having delusions telling him to kill. An extremely rare manifestation of his Schizophrenia, only elevated by the newly acquired aspect of him being an insomniac. 

Spencer hadn’t ceased being headstrong in cases either. Every time you wanted to help he made it his mission to overcompensate in order to snuff you out. On the contrary, he’d warmed up to you a little. It wasn’t major, he barely held any positive feelings toward you, but barely was better than not at all, so you coped. You two had managed a couple small talk conversations outside the battle of one-upping that you were currently losing. You absolutely hated it, but you liked him. You liked him a lot, actually. You don’t know when in the past few days that anger morphed into fondness but it had shifted hard. The casual dominance he exuded drew you in like a porchlight lures a moth. You doubted the opposite proved true for him, and that stung. You came to enjoy the banter, the competition, even if you were always playing the losing hand. It was the only way to get his undivided attention and the feeling of his eyes on you started to follow you home. 

You thought a lot about how you could get the relationship to pivot into something better. You didn’t want to be the girl he bickered with at work. You didn’t know what it was you wanted but you knew that your current fate sounded horrid. He was an ass, though, and he did not make it easy to admit those feelings. Every time he undermined you, you grew more attached and also more angry at yourself for doing so. It was because he’s so much like you, you thought. You knew from the way he interacted with his team that he wasn’t a cold guy, didn’t hold malice towards people for no reason. He needs time. He needs to know you, and God how badly you wanted to know him. 

You had sustained good relations with everyone the past few weeks you’ve been here. Meeting Garcia and Rossi had been a treat - both of them being delightful company. You’d heard them whispering about you and Spencer when they thought you weren’t around. The whole team seems to think that you’re basically fated to be together. It was unnerving how comforting that thought was to you. You hoped they were right. 

Spencer hoped they were right too. He’d heard the same whispers you had, chastising the team when he got the chance as if he didn’t think about you every moment he could. His eyes seemed to naturally land on you if you were around. He watched you walk around the bureau more and more lately, enjoying the gained confidence in your step as you cemented your place in the team. The sway of your hips or the swing of your arms. You mesmerized him no matter what you did. One time he got so caught up in his thoughts of you that Prentiss had to check he wasn’t having a silent panic attack. He clung to his sense of resentment, tried so hard to remind himself of the feelings he had when he first met you - you were beautiful, of course you were - but you were on claimed land and he was anything but eager for you to make home on it. That had faded fast, seeing how kind you were, scrambling to help and earn respect from everyone. The only reason he kept up the act of  “man who wants you gone” was so that he could keep talking to you. Spencer was a genius but he didn’t know how to handle someone like you. He’d been interested in girls before, hell he’d had girlfriends before but it had never felt like this in such little time. Such intense infatuation was crippling for someone who’s brain worked in patterns - this was new ground for him. 

“Everybody suit up. We have Foster’s location and we need to move quickly. He’s going after the source of his rage and we don’t have time to spare.” Hotch came down the stairs two at a time, spurring the team into action. 

“This man is highly dangerous but also highly deluded. The cases I’ve read similar to this say it’s best to speak gently. He’s sick but he can be reasoned with.” Spencer pulls from his memory as he sets his ‘FBI’ vest into place on his chest. 

“No, not this time. This man is too severe, his mind is too far gone. If these hallucinations of his are strong enough for him to touch them it’ll be extremely easy for him to rearrange or imagine your words differently. You need to be loud, direct, and assertive. Speak as little as possible. The quieter you are, the easier it will be for him to change what you’re saying in his head.” You also spoke while putting your vest on. You didn’t carry a weapon - a personal vow of yours, as you were more than classified to - so there were no holsters to fill. The contradictions between the two doctors of the team made everyone hesitate even though they lacked the time to do so.

Spencer looked at you, slightly out of breath from working so quickly. “You’re questioning my memory?” 

“I’m not questioning your memory, Doctor. I’m questioning your sources. There’s a higher risk level if we do what you’re suggesting. Let me do my job.” You made the final adjustments to your attire as you finished speaking. You returned his eye contact for just a beat too long, letting the others rush out of the building while you stood your ground, the two of you begrudgingly following after them a moment later.

You had been assigned a different car than him for the ride over. ‘Thank God’ was the only thing you could think when you saw him heading to the other SUV. After another confrontation - another public one, at that - you weren’t sure you could handle being pressed leg to leg with him in the backseat. Your words were a looping record in his head as he rode towards Foster. They were about to attempt a hostage negotiation with a man seeing people who weren’t there but all he could think about was that fucking word you refused to drop. 

I’m not questioning your memory, Doctor

You had to be doing this on purpose, he thought. He originally believed this had started because you knew stripping him of his beloved title would cause irritation. Now he suspected you knew how badly he wanted his name in your mouth and this was your way of torturing him. ‘It’s working.’ He thought. God was it working. He agreed with his team, you were perfect for him. You had knowledge to match his, kept him on his toes. One time the start of a ramble slipped through his “I don’t like you” façade and he felt his heart speed up at the genuine interest that roused in your eyes. You wanted to know him and he was an idiot for all the shit he was doing. 

He wasn’t surprised when your strategy worked and Ben Foster was taken into custody. You were the one to talk him down, and if you hadn’t already been accepted to the team, he knew then and there that they needed you. You were flawless. He knew you’d been doing this as long as he had and it showed. He pleaded with himself to stay focused, zeroed in on the weight of the gun in his hand to save face. His mind never left you, though, much like his eyes. This was the expertise you spoke of - no wonder they fought hard to get you here. 

“You were excellent in there.” It was just the two of you now. Even in the dull, flashing police lights, you were breathtaking. “Good job.” He said. Then he walked away because he was on the brink of kissing you and didn’t feel like breaking about 18 workplace rules while at the scene of a crime. You wouldn’t have been complaining if he did.

3.

Every time something like this happened it was difficult to remind yourself that not carrying a weapon was a choice you made willingly. You were currently sitting in the back of an open ambulance, about to be hoisted onto a stretcher and driven to the ER for stitches. You’ve been with the BAU for almost 3 months now and have miraculously managed to avoid injury in that time. This had been one of the easier cases. No chases or clues to follow, just a sick man who left a fairly obvious paper trail. You were the speaker on almost all cases. You were in charge of de-escalating a situation, making sure the bomb didn’t blow. You’ve never carried a weapon, always preferring to take the wounds of a job over using a gun to back up your words. You were a psychiatrist, you wanted to make people better, not vilify them. It worked, usually. People did tend to trust you more when you were unarmed. This time, though, it got you stabbed.

It wasn’t a bad injury, the blood had already stopped and was mildly dry by the time Spencer was joining you. Just one more scar to your collection. It was to the side of your quad, missing any artery by miles and just serving as a pain source at this point. A little numbing and some stitches and you’d be right as rain is what the doctor in the ambulance had said. 

“What happened?” He spoke softly to you. There wasn’t a rivalry between you two, not really. The banter hadn’t stopped, but it changed. It was playful and actually fun now. The both of you weren’t obsessed with outdoing the other anymore. Some casual boastfulness and a budding friendship is where you were at with him currently. 

“I got stabbed.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.”

He exhaled like he couldn’t comprehend the stupidity of your answer. You laughed at that. One enjoyable pastime you’d picked up in the past month was trying to bewilder him. The EMT said he needed to check the rest of your body for injury despite your protest of such a procedure. It was typical and you knew that, but you held onto the fear of your own body that middle school gave you. There was a man you liked here, and the thought of him seeing the bit of stomach that hung outside the waistline of your pants scared you more than you thought it would. You forced yourself to be rational in spite of this. It was Spencer, you wanted to be seen by him. 

“Holy shit.”

You chuckled at that. You forgot that maybe a warning was in order for the amount of scars that littered your stomach.

“Probably should have told you about those.” There were dozens. You amassed a countless amount of scars over the course of your job. Stab wounds, bullet grazes, burn marks. Unsubs, as much as you tried to empathize, were often violent at the end of the day and usually lashed out before they could be helped. 

He was staring - well, gazing more like. Not like someone stares at a car accident on the freeway but instead how someone stares at the moon - awe. He was in awe of you. Your strength, your courage, the fact that you went through all these individual events and still chose not to arm yourself. Some of these were in places that could have been fatal, and he thanked whatever entity may be listening that you persevered, begged them to continue that streak. He crashed hard into the desire to touch you, to run his hands over what little of your past he could see. He wondered if you would let him. If you’d fit into his palms the way he thought you would - if that was something you even wanted. The EMT was gone by now, having moved to the passenger seat for the ride to the hospital. 

“Could I - " He hesitated for a moment, this was definitely the wrong question to ask. “Can I touch you?”

Your eyes glazed over slightly. Jesus. You felt your lips part a little.

“You want to?” Genuine surprise. You didn’t think you looked particularly desirable in your current state. He wanted to touch your fucking scars. Who does he think he is?

“Please.” He was looking at you in a way you hadn’t seen before. His eyes were glazed over too. You held his eyes as you nodded. The heat was so stifling that you laughed just a little at the tension.

“Fucking hell, Spence.”

Blood shot to his ears when you said his name. It had been well worth the wait to hear you say it like that - breathy and confused and so fucking pretty that he wondered how he ever lived before you said it. 

“Will you tell me about them?” He was breathy too, but he wouldn’t have you here, not like this. He just needed to feel you. 

“I’ll tell you anything you want, Doc.”

His hands were warm. It wouldn’t be the last time you felt them.

[atalienart]

idk, I'm so fed up with Al that I had to get it off my chest...

I hate Al, I hate stupid prompted images that flood every space. I hate Al popping up every time I open anything on the internet. I hate people who pretend that prompting is such a skill and so much work but are scared to actually disclose they used Al for their stupid images and text. What are you scared of? I hate people who think writing "make me a ..." makes them a creator of anything. I hate people who think generative Al is an improvement and innovation. It's not! The fact that something is new doesn't make it good! Do you know viruses? There's always a new one at the corner.

Can't you see it? It makes you dumber with every use. Your creative skills decline with every command you give to a machine. Your communication skills deteriorate every time Al writes an email for you or you talk to your virtual girlfriend. Your ability to decide about yourself shrinks every time you ask a machine what to do, what to buy, what to say. Your critical thinking vanishes (well, assuming you even had any to begin with) whenever you ask "grok, is it true?". Whenever a computer does homework for you, whenever it writes an essay for school (which you won't even proofread) or spits a picture you were supposed to make yourself for a class, you become more stupid and less skilled. It won't make you into a good writer or artist just as watching work out videos won't give you muscles.

And you mock people who don't want their brains to rot, who maintain their values, who don't want to destroy their integrity and planet, who improve their talent and skills and spend their time actually thinking and learning stuff.

You can't even see how big corporations fuck you hard and slow every time you pay them to improve their Al monster, dangling colourful pictures before your eyes like a cat toy, cackling seeing your pupils blow wide. They promise you money and lure you with a vision of fame that those pathetic, broke artists will never see in their worthless lives. But you will. You'll have it all! Just feed their wallets with your money and databases with yourself and turn off your brain. You really think you'll have money and fame? Who will ever see your pretty pictures under millions of other pretty pictures? Who will read your book, when John Pickle published 30 only yesterday using Al? Who will watch your great movie when someone else has already made one with their own face and now they're kissing their favourite actor in space in a ship with too many details? Well, at least you can use someone else's voice to scam their family. If you get caught by the police you'll have your two minutes of fame before the Al erection supplement commercial rolls in :)

Al is here to stay! Yeah, like the putrid smell of your rotten brains.

[maypiles]

Pick A Pile: What is your justice?⚖️

❗This is a collective reading so take what resonates and leave what does not. Please do not force the reading. Be careful of scammers I'll never reach out to you to ask for money or personal readings❗

Okay, listen up, darlings. After that vision of New York City and Lady Liberty gracing me like the queen I am, I just knew Spirit was screaming at me to dig into this. Justice, karma, the scales tipping—whatever you want to call it—it’s all connected, and I had to know what’s up with my collective. What’s your justice? What’s the tea on your karmic comeback or payback? Because let me tell you, when Lady Liberty herself makes a cameo in my dreams, it’s not just a vibe; it’s a cosmic declaration. Buckle up; the universe is about to spill.

Pile One

Pile one, this is a BIG moment, and I can’t even begin to stress it enough, okay? So first, let’s just dive into what Spirit wants you to know because there’s a whole lot going on, and I feel like the universe is throwing a whole deck of cards down on the table—your table. The message is loud and clear, baby.

First thing I’m hearing—there’s this vibe of someone talking behind your back. Ugh, I hate it. It's like there’s this sneaky energy, maybe some people trying to paint you in a certain light, and I'm hearing ‘final chapter.’ Yeah, you’re at the end of something—something major. You’ve been going through it, whether emotionally, financially, or just in general, and Spirit’s telling me you’re about to face your justice. But here’s the thing, babe—this is karma, okay? Whether it's real debt or energetic debt, whatever happened in the past, the universe is balancing the scales.

I’m seeing cards like the 5 of Pentacles reversed, Page of Pentacles, 4 of Cups, 5 of Swords reversed, and 5 of Cups. Like, I’m getting this feeling that maybe you’ve been struggling, feeling left out in the cold, or just like the universe is not on your side. But here’s the thing: the 5 of Pentacles reversed is showing me that things are changing for you. I’m hearing recovery, and it feels like you’ve been through hell, but baby, the tides are shifting. Spirit is telling me you're in the process of paying for some past mistakes, but there is a lesson here, and it’s going to help you rise.

Then there’s the King of Wands and Hanged Man—and I gotta say, it’s like, there’s this person in your life or this energy where you’ve been putting on this strong, ‘I’m untouchable’ vibe, but deep down you’re realizing something has to change. You’ve been in limbo—stuck in this weird cycle, indecisive, unsure of your next move. You’ve been trying to juggle everything—2 Pentacles—and it’s like, what was once in balance is now all over the place. It’s time for a shift.

Now, the World reversed and the 7 of Cups hit me hard because something is incomplete, and there's confusion surrounding it. It’s like you're getting a new perspective on everything, but there’s still this cloudiness, something hidden, or a situation that hasn’t fully unfolded yet. Don’t worry, you’re seeing it all soon. Trust me, things are coming to light. Spirit is saying, “Hold your ground,” with the 7 of Wands, because there’s a big payoff coming with the Ace of Pentacles and 10 of Pentacles—yes, I said it, big money and stability! You just have to keep pushing through this current energy, even if it feels like a struggle right now.

But let’s talk about that 10 of Swords, Moon reversed, and the 5 of Wands. This is heavy. There is some serious betrayal energy here, something that’s cut you deep, but it's also like, you’re breaking free from whatever chains have held you. The truth is coming out—especially with the Moon reversed. You’ve been through the battle, now it’s about overcoming the chaos and moving forward. The 10 of Cups reversed—yep, love life might be in the pits for some of you right now, and you’re feeling emotionally drained, but there’s healing ahead, okay?

So here’s what Spirit wants you to know, Pile one: You are facing your justice. The scales are balancing, and yes, there’s been some messy, dark energy from the past—but now? You are stepping into your new chapter. You are paying your debts, emotionally or otherwise. But trust me when I say, after the storm comes your victory. You’ve been through the struggle, but now you are about to reap the rewards of that hard work. The universe is testing your resilience, and, baby, you’re gonna come out stronger than ever.

So what is your justice?

Your justice? Oh, it’s sweet, isn’t it? Karmic cleansing, honey. All that betrayal and shady business? Watch it unravel like a cheap sweater. You’re cutting ties, reclaiming your voice, and stepping into your power. They thought they could keep you in the dark, but surprise! You're the High Priestess, babe—illusions shattered, truths exposed. Their little games backfired, and you? You’re thriving. Justice? Served. Cold, delicious, and with a side of don’t mess with me.

Pile Two

All right, okay, my loves Pile 2, let’s get into this, because I am picking up on a lot, and I need you to listen closely. This feels like a moment for you—like the universe is standing right in front of you, waiting for you to make some decisions. And baby, let me tell you, these are big ones. I feel like you’re in a position where you’re about to turn the page—the past is behind you, and you’re stepping into something new. But let me break it down for you.

So first thing I’m feeling, my foot starts itching—I don’t know why that’s happening, but Spirit is giving me the strong vibe that you’re either about to travel or visit someone. More likely, it’s a visit, and I’m getting that this is connected to family or someone who’s just returned from a visit. Whatever it is, it’s coming soon. It could even be a recent visit, like you’re still processing it. There’s something here, and it feels important.

Now let’s talk about what I’m seeing in my mind’s eye. I see a crow—I know it’s a crow, but also it’s black and dark like it has this shadowy presence. It’s standing on the bank of a river or water—maybe even in a park. There’s sunlight, and I’m seeing this bird looking around. Spirit’s telling me that there’s a symbolic energy here—crows are messengers. You’re receiving a message, Pile 2, and this is a time of transition, of choosing your path, like the bird flying away to where it’s meant to be. It feels like a time for you to decide—are you staying where you are, or are you flying away?

And then, I hear the word ‘rosemary’, and it’s so significant right now. It could be something as simple as you needing to protect your energy, cleanse your space, or work with rosemary in some way—whether it’s spiritual or practical. Rosemary is a protector, a cleanser, and it feels like you are being called to do this now. There’s some protection needed here, especially if you’re feeling drained or unsure about things.

But let’s talk about the shift, because there is a huge shift happening. With the 2 of Wands reversed and the Devil, I’m getting that you’re in a place where you’ve been stuck, possibly bound to something toxic—something holding you back. And I feel like you’re at a breaking point. You’ve been grappling with this decision, right? Whether it’s leaving something behind or moving forward, the universe is saying—you are finally choosing your happiness. You’re turning away from the past and stepping into something new. And yes, panic attacks could be a thing here, like anxiety around this change. But trust me, babe, Spirit’s saying, this is your time.

So, when I see the 6 of Pentacles, 7 of Pentacles, and the Page of Swords reversed, I’m getting that you’ve been working hard, trying to balance things out. But right now, there’s something off—you might be feeling drained, like you’re giving too much and not receiving enough. It’s like you’ve been planting seeds, but you’re not seeing the rewards yet. Spirit’s saying, you’re about to see your harvest, but you need to clear the air first.

I’m also seeing the Queen of Pentacles, 4 of Cups, and the Sun, and here’s the thing: you’ve been in this emotional space where maybe you’ve been unfulfilled. Like, you’ve had everything you need, but something’s still missing. You’ve been looking at things and saying, “Is this it?” Spirit is telling me: you are about to get your answer. You’re about to step into the light. The Sun is coming for you—this is happiness, healing, and clarity.

But there’s also the 4 of Swords reversed, Fool reversed, and 7 of Wands reversed, and listen, I feel the resistance. There’s some fear here, some hesitation to take that first step forward. You’ve been in your head, feeling unsure, but let me tell you: it’s time to act. The 7 of Wands reversed is telling me that maybe you’ve been defensive, maybe you’ve been holding back, but it’s time to stop fighting yourself and just go. There’s so much fear around the unknown right now, but you’re being called to release it.

Now, I’m seeing the 3 of Cups, 3 of Swords, and 2 of Cups reversed, and there’s a lot of emotional healing here. I feel like you’ve been hurt in the past, possibly by a relationship or a close friendship, and it’s been hard to let go. Spirit’s saying, you’re healing from that. You’re moving on, even if it feels painful right now. Your heart is healing, babe, and you’re opening yourself up to something new.

And then the King of Pentacles, 3 of Pentacles, and Moon reversed show me that there’s stability coming. You’re about to start building something solid, something real. There’s clarity on the way, and it’s like the Moon reversed is all about revealing hidden truths. Whatever was hidden, whether it was in your relationships, your work, or within yourself, it’s about to come to light.

So, I’m hearing it loud and clear now, Pile two: you are in the middle of a major shift. You’re deciding to turn your back on the past and choose your happiness. There are fears, there’s resistance, and there’s pain—but Spirit is saying, the clarity is coming, the healing is coming, and you are stepping into your power. You’re being guided to protect your energy—use rosemary, cleanse, reset. Trust that the universe has your back, and soon, you’ll be standing on solid ground, feeling like yourself again.

So what is your justice?

Ah, your justice is glow-up revenge. You’re untouchable, darling, and they’re left watching from the sidelines as you rise. Their attempts to block you? Laughable. The wheel is spinning in your favor, and the universe is handing you blessings while their lives turn into a slow-motion disaster. You’re stepping into abundance and alignment, and let’s be honest, it’s about time. They’ll choke on their envy, but don’t worry—you’re too busy being fabulous to care.

Pile Three

All right, my gorgeous Pile 3, let’s get into it. I’m feeling this is a deep reading, like we’re diving into some serious energy here. First off, I’m picking up something huge. You might be connected to the New York dream I channeled in a previous post—whether you’re from New York, visited, or that place has some significance for you. I’m also hearing dreams, and I feel like some of you are having prophetic dreams or visions that are part of your spiritual journey. Spirit is coming through strong right now, so pay attention.

You’re in a phase right now where the Wheel of Fortune is spinning for you. Fate is at play, and I feel like everything that’s been happening is part of a bigger plan—this is your spiritual path, Pile 3. It’s like the universe is pushing you forward, and there’s a reason for every challenge you’re going through. There’s something bigger unfolding here, and your journey is truly aligning with your higher self.

Now, Spirit keeps telling me choices in love, so let’s dive into that for a minute. I don’t know who you’re dealing with right now, but you’ve got choices—multiple options, different energies around you. But let’s get into the cleansing bit. It feels like you’re releasing a lot. There's a need to clear out some heavy stuff that’s been weighing you down, especially emotionally and mentally. I’m talking about the 10 of Wands reversed, where the burdens are finally being lifted, but you’ve been carrying them for a long time. You're letting go of things, people, situations, and ideas that no longer serve your highest good. It’s like Spirit is telling you to finally breathe again. Let the weight off.

But I see Ace of Swords reversed, Knight of Pentacles reversed, Knight of Cups reversed, and Queen of Pentacles challenge, and there’s this sense of miscommunication, lack of clarity, and maybe even feeling stuck in a place where you’ve been waiting for answers that aren’t coming. Like, it feels like you've been trying to move forward, but you're hitting roadblocks, especially in your career, relationships, and your sense of security. It's been difficult, but Spirit is saying—you're breaking free from this soon. It’s part of the cleansing process. The delays are just preparing you for the next chapter.

Then I’m seeing Justice here, and yes, this is it. The justice you’re seeking is coming through, especially with the 7 of Swords and 5 of Wands. If there’s been any deception or betrayal, or if you’ve been involved in conflict—whether with people, or even just within yourself—Spirit is saying you will be vindicated. You will receive what’s yours. The energy is shifting, and the balance is about to be restored. It’s coming through in your choices in love and in life—whatever this injustice was, it’s clearing up now.

The 7 of Pentacles and 3 of Pentacles indicate that you’ve been waiting for rewards, for your effort to pay off, and Spirit is saying that it’s on its way. You've planted the seeds, and now you're just waiting for things to fall into place. You’ve been patient, working on yourself, on your dreams, on your future. It’s all going to pay off. But with the 2 of Wands challenge and the Knight of Wands reversed, Spirit says there's still this hesitation, this fear of moving forward. But you need to let go of the fear. It’s holding you back.

But I see the Chariot reversed and the 10 of Cups challenge, and it’s clear: you’ve been struggling with your direction—like you’re not fully sure where you're headed, and it’s affecting your emotional state. There’s been an emotional imbalance here, and it’s holding up the momentum you need to push forward. You’re questioning if happiness is even possible right now. There’s been sadness, regret (5 of Cups), but Spirit is coming through to tell you don’t stay stuck in the past. Things will change once you step out of this emotional rut.

And I can feel the Moon reversed—this is clarity. There’s stuff that’s been hidden in the dark, and it’s about to come to light. If there’s been confusion, if you’ve felt like you can’t see the truth, that’s changing. Truth is coming through, and it’ll be like a weight lifted off your shoulders.

Now let’s talk about the Devil energy. I feel like you’ve been breaking free from toxic cycles—whether it’s toxic relationships, bad habits, or something that’s just drained your energy. You're cleansing this out. This is part of your transformation, and with the 4 of Swords reversed, Spirit is saying you need to rest but also push through this final phase of your healing. It’s time to let go, to forgive, to release.

With the 6 of Wands, Page of Wands, and 8 of Pentacles, Spirit is showing me that there’s victory coming your way. Success is ahead, and it feels like you’re going to stand tall soon—your efforts will be recognized, especially in your work and personal growth. There’s excitement, enthusiasm, and the energy of new beginnings ahead. You're going to feel like you're winning again. You're moving forward with renewed purpose.

And the Wheel of Fortune? Oh, yes. This is fated. This is your turning point. Things are finally aligning, and the High Priestess challenge is saying that the mysteries you’ve been dealing with will soon be revealed. Secrets will come out, intuition will be clearer, and your path will be illuminated.

The Tower and Fool reversed—yes, I feel this chaos energy. Something might shake up your world soon, but it’s necessary for your growth. It’s going to feel like a sudden change, but trust it. This is the universe breaking down what no longer serves you, so you can step into something better. Don't resist the shift.

Finally, with the 3 of Cups, Queen of Wands, 7 of Cups, and Ace of Pentacles, there’s celebration and new beginnings on the horizon. You're going to be feeling more confident, more sure of yourself, and ready to embrace your future. And yes, there’s a new opportunity waiting for you that’s going to make all of this worth it.

So what is your justice?

Oh, pile 3 my loves, your justice is that they can’t escape their mess. You’re out here cleansing your energy, minding your business, and meanwhile, they’re drowning in their own chaos. It’s giving what goes around comes around, but with a spiritual twist. Their lies? Exposed. Their manipulations? Ineffective. And you? You’re aligning with destiny, walking your path, and attracting love and opportunities that actually deserve you. Justice is fated, baby, and you’re divinely protected.

Pile Four

Hello, Pile 4 my darlings, let's get into it. Spirit is definitely making a strong presence here with some serious energy. First off, there's something about connection—whether it’s a need for deeper connections with others or feeling that you're disconnected from someone or something. This could be with a person, a situation, or even within yourself. Spirit is saying that the connection you’re seeking is right in front of you, but there’s an energy of impatience building. Like, you're waiting for something to align, but it feels like it’s taking forever, and you're growing restless. You're over it—there’s an irritation, a feeling like you're being disturbed from what you really want, whether externally or internally.

I’m hearing external annoyance and disturbance. Spirit is showing me that you’re dealing with distractions or people who are just in your face right now, causing chaos or disruption in your life. It's as if things keep getting in the way of your peace and your flow. There’s a destructive energy around, something or someone that’s throwing you off your path, and it’s draining your energy. You might be feeling tired from dealing with this. There’s a lot of frustration here.

Looking at your cards, 6 of Wands tells me there’s victory here. You’re fighting for something, and despite the disturbances, you're still winning. But the 7 of Cups and 9 of Cups tell me you're confused about your happiness. There are choices, possibilities in front of you, but you’re unsure if you’re going in the right direction. Maybe you’ve been indulging in too many distractions or seeking external validation for your success. Spirit is saying there’s more to it—your happiness isn’t about the external, it’s about what you believe it is. That’s what’s going to bring you true fulfillment.

Now, with the 7 of Wands reversed, you're definitely dealing with a feeling of giving up or surrendering. It’s like you're trying to hold your ground, but the energy is just too much. You're losing your defense, and it's wearing you down. You’re being asked to reevaluate what’s truly worth fighting for because there’s a sense of feeling outnumbered or unable to maintain your position.

The Hanged Man is showing up, and this tells me you’ve reached a place of pause, like you're stuck. You’re at a standstill, and things feel stagnant, but Spirit is showing me this as a necessary delay. It's forcing you to see things from a different perspective. You’ve been resisting this moment of stillness, but it’s actually giving you the clarity you need. The 2 of Wands reversed reinforces this sense of indecision, like you’re not sure where to go next. You’ve been thinking about your future, but there’s a hesitation—like, you don’t have the clarity you need, and it’s causing you to feel disconnected from your own plan.

The Moon here, well, this tells me there’s confusion, uncertainty, and things being hidden from you—whether it’s your own emotions, the truth of a situation, or something that you're just not seeing clearly yet. This is the classic illusion card, and Spirit is saying that things might not be what they seem right now, so don’t jump to conclusions. Things are murky, but the truth will eventually come to light.

Then we have the 6 of Pentacles, and Spirit is showing me balancing—there’s a need for balance in how much you’re giving and receiving. Are you overextending yourself for others? Are you being fairly compensated or recognized? This is a time to equalize what you’re putting out versus what you're getting back. There’s a 5 of Cups reversed here, which shows that you're healing from emotional wounds. You’re moving past regret, past disappointment, and finally starting to release the past. Spirit is showing me that you’re ready to move on—you've been grieving, but it’s time to let it go.

Now, the 9 of Swords reversed shows that the worst of the anxiety and stress is behind you, but you're still holding onto some things. You're overthinking and worrying about things that you can’t control, and it’s preventing you from truly healing and stepping into your empowerment. There's definitely a need to confront these fears and stop letting them dictate your actions.

The 4 of Wands shows me that you’re seeking stability, but there’s a lack of celebration or fulfillment around this area. Maybe you’ve been wanting a certain outcome or a stable situation, but there’s a sense of something falling short here. Spirit is saying that your happiness isn’t defined by what you think it should look like—there's a need to let go of expectations and embrace the flow of your journey.

Looking at the King of Pentacles reversed and 4 of Cups reversed, there's definitely a feeling of instability—whether it's in your finances, security, or sense of self-worth. You're dissatisfied, unfulfilled, and Spirit is pointing out that it’s time to let go of attachments to material things or false security. You need to make room for something more fulfilling, something deeper.

But here’s the good part—the 9 of Pentacles shows you’re independent and capable of standing on your own. Spirit is saying you’re strong and have everything you need within you to overcome this. There’s an energy of self-sufficiency here, and Spirit is reminding you that you have the power to create your own stability.

The 8 of Swords reversed tells me that you're breaking free from mental restrictions. There’s a release from feeling trapped or stuck, and you’re starting to see things for what they truly are. The Page of Swords and Page of Pentacles reversed indicate that you're still learning, still growing, but you're starting to develop a clearer mindset. There’s a need for patience, but Spirit is showing that you’re getting more clarity and awareness.

Then we have the Knight of Pentacles and 9 of Wands. This is your persistence paying off. It’s slow-moving, but you’re finally getting back on track after everything has felt chaotic. You're pushing through, and even though you’ve been battered by the challenges, you’re still standing strong.

But, there’s the King of Wands challenge position, which is interesting. It feels like you're struggling with taking control, with leading your life in the direction you want. There's a lack of confidence in your ability to make the big decisions, and Spirit is telling me that you need to step up and claim your power. You're more than capable, but you’ve got to believe that you are.

The Tower here is a big one—expect sudden change. This is a moment of destruction, but it's necessary. Things will be torn down to rebuild stronger foundations. Trust this process—it’s breaking down the old to make way for the new. You’re shedding layers, and it’s all part of your transformation.

With the King of Cups reversed, you're being reminded to manage your emotions better. Don’t let your emotions control you; take the reins and process what's coming up. There’s emotional instability, but you’re being asked to balance that out. You can’t let your emotions dictate your decisions if you want peace and clarity.

Lastly, the 3 of Cups shows me that there’s a need for community, celebration, and joy. You’re going to find people who are there to support you, but Spirit is saying you need to open up and allow yourself to receive support. The 2 of Pentacles reversed tells me you’re dropping the juggling act, and it’s time to focus on what really matters.

At the bottom of the deck, we have the Chariot, so the message is clear: you're headed in the right direction, but you've got to take control of your path. And with the 3 of Pentacles, you’ll see that collaboration and working with others will help bring you closer to your goals.

So what is your justice?

Your justice is undeniable freedom, my loves. You’re breaking chains, shedding illusions, and stepping into your truth. The disturbances? The annoyances? They’re distractions, and you’re rising above it all. The tower may have fallen, but now you’re rebuilding on a foundation of strength and clarity. And them? They’re stuck in their own games, while you’re winning the war. You’re moving forward, claiming victories, and leaving them in the dust. Justice? Oh, it’s poetic, isn’t it?

All right, mon amours, that’s the tea for today. Justice has been served, karmic debts are being paid, and the scales are tipping exactly where they need to. If you’re in the clear, congratulations—you’re the main character, obviously. And if not? Well... consider this your villain origin story. Either way, the universe is working its magic, so take it, own it, and don’t forget who’s running the show—you. Now, go forth, be fabulous, and remember: karma always collects, but a good outfit and a sharp wit will keep you winning every time. À bientôt!

P.S: credits belong to the original owner of the pictures and dividers.

[monstersflashlight]

Yo I was talking to a friend of mine about the coexistence of aliens and humans living together in a sci fi and cyberpunk world and thought about the porn film makers industry making big money from hiring aliens and having an alien coworker to help with the scripts. Thus making aliens have human kinks like we humans do with monsters and aliens lol— just wanted to share this with you! And perhaps give you a writing idea? OwO( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) especially for like dubcon/noncon roleplays they’ll have the actors play lol

A/N: Hope you both like this, I don’t (generally) do non-con and I think this worked better without the dub-con, so here we have it. Enjoy!

Movie worth

Alien x trans!male reader || degradation (light), praise kink, exhibitionism (but not really), size kink (light)

When you signed up to the alien app, you didn’t know what to expect, definitely weren’t expecting to match instantly with a big hulking alien that was pretty much all your fantasies in a pretty green package.

You hit it off immediately, meeting for dinner and lunch and breakfast and a few snacks… And you were dying to get your hands and cunt all over him. But he wanted to wait… Until your overactive libido discovered why he was so closed off… Your alien boyfriend was a porn actor, and his movies were next level hot. You saw a few of them (and jerked off a lot) before your brain started to make it weird. The sweet alien who made you dinner and bought you popcorn at the movies clashing with the hot alien fucking monsters filthily over video. So you stopped, and planned how to tell him that you knew. But your mind (and your cunt) were trembling thinking about having that inside of you. And a bit concerned. Because he’s that big.

You invited him over to watch Spacefix and chill, and he immediately agreed. You weren’t sure how to break the news about the porn stuff to him, so you just… blurted it out when you were staring at the microwave with the popcorn.

He stared at you for what felt like a light-year. When he opened his mouth, nothing came out, and you ended up giggling at his shocked expression. The tension broke with that, and before you realized, you were being pressed against his huge body and he was claiming your mouth like he was desperate to devour you. And good goddess if you didn’t want to be devoured by him…

And that’s how you find yourself naked on your bed, your big hulk of an alien parting your legs and staring at your wetness with such hunger in his eyes that you are clenching over nothing, so empty. Fuck… But when you look down and see how fucking hard he is, you can’t do anything but whine.

“I- I don’t know if I can…” You tell him, looking at his dick hanging there. He’s just… so big. Bigger than any human you’ve been with, bigger than that minotaur you hook up with once. He’s just fucking huge.

“Of course you can, look at that boypussy… You are drenched, aren’t you?” He rubs his fingers through your wetness, making you feel a bit embarrassed. He’s right, you are dripping wet and he has barely touched you. “You are more than ready to be a good boy for me and get fucked right here.” His words make you choke a gasp, your mouth dry all of sudden, your clit tingling. You nod, your mouth firmly shut. “Words. Do you want me to fuck your tight cunt? I won’t do it if you don’t ask for it.”

You can feel your face burning hot as you mutter: “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” The jackass smirks, eyebrow raised as he keeps rubbing your wetness with his fingers.

You hate him a little for making you say it, but at the same time, the embarrassment and degradation of having to say it is turning you on like crazy. “Yes, I want you to fuck my… my…”

He kisses your sternum, his eyes still fixated on your face. “Say it,” he coaches.

“My boypussy,” the term makes your face even hotter, your whole body reacting as he chuckles over you, his weird dick pointing at your cunt, a big drop of precum already shiny on the tip.

And then he starts running his mouth as he presses the tip of his dick against your opening, not going in, just resting there and making you go insane with desire. “Now that you know… Do you like that idea? You like thinking of people watching you? Do you want to give them a show? That’s what you want? To be a good boy and be fucked in front of a camera? Everyone watching as you fall apart around my dick and moan like a slut?”

You make a lewd sound that makes your face flush harder and his smirk to get even bigger. He rubs your opening, your cunt so wet it makes a sucking sound when he pushes the tip of his dick inside of you.

“Such a good boy, already ready for me.” You preen at the compliment. “Now, now… Are you ready for me?” You nod, eagerly. “Good boy,” he says before rubbing your clit with his thumb and pushing his dick in bit by bit inside your waiting cunt.

You moan loudly, and he grunts, pushing and pushing and pushing until you feel you are about to be split in two. You try to talk, but the only thing out of your mouth is an incoherent “Ughg…” He chuckles, stopping when his hips are flushed against yours.

“Tell me when you are ready,” he whispers. You can see his pulse beating fast on his neck, and it makes your inside twist.

You are sweating, and your brain is slowly turning into goo. “Move. Move, please.”

“Good boy,” he mutters before hell breaks loose.

He starts moving, pumping his hips against yours, hitting your deepest points and rubbing against all the places that make your insides turn. You are moaning and groaning like a slut and he keeps repeating how good you are, how pretty your boypussy is and how fucking stunning you look taking his cock. And with each word you get closer and closer to release.

“Come for me sweet boy, make a mess for me.” And that does it.

You close your eyes and see white as your whole body explodes into a million pieces. You can hear the bells of heaven as he praises you, and you feel his thrusts become erratic, his dick making your orgasm last longer as he ruts into your G-spot when he explodes inside of you. It’s like a domino effect, the second he releases inside of you, you are coming again, not knowing when the first orgasm ended and the second has begun.

After a while, he sighs against your neck. “Well, good luck sweet-boy,” he mutters.

“What?” You ask, confused, your brain still not completely online.

He points down to where his dick is still nested inside you. “After that, you are stuck with me.” You smile, not really worried about that.

[igwb]

A Black Eye & Two Kisses. (III.)

"good men die too, i'd rather be with you."

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: strangers to lovers au, angst

summary: it was the final journey, one that carried the weight of so many decisions, but deep down, you knew that no matter what you chose, jungkook would be there. he would always be there, right by your side. and you would make sure he was okay, just as he would do for you.

word count: 18K

warnings: angst, set in the 90s, mentions of; sexism, patriarcal society, shitty husbands/men in general :(, blood & violence, fluff & happy ending! ♡ yoongi & tae appearance!! love, love, love & so much love…

playlist: american money, western nights, with or without you

author's note: this isnt a one shot & this is the final part! you can find the first parts here;

part I. part II. part III.

As comfortable as the beige couch in the back room of the hair salon was, and as soft as the blanket draped over your body felt, sleep refused to come.

The walls were thin. You could hear the hushed voices of the two women outside, their quiet gossip mingling with the clinking of coffee cups.

“Taehee asked them to kill her husband.”

Your body jolted upright. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, drowning out the muffled gasp that followed. The voices lowered instantly—a belated realization that you, Taehee’s daughter, were still there, listening.

“She asked me for the address of those men. I think she really wants to go through with it.”

The words rang in your head, each syllable sharp and cutting. Your stomach twisted. The idea of your mother going to them—to Jungkook—to have your father killed made your breath hitch.

Without thinking, you shoved your sneakers back on and bolted out of the salon, the two women staring after you, their mouths agape.

You desperately wished she hadn’t done it, that there was still time to stop her. To beg her to reconsider. As much as you hated your father, you didn’t want him gone—not like this. Not when you had spent your entire life rejecting violence in all its forms.

And your mother… she should have rejected it too. She knew violence. She had endured it. She had suffered under it for years. And yet, she had sought it out. She had chosen it.

Still, you couldn’t fully bring yourself to judge her. You weren’t the one who had been on the receiving end of his rage. You hadn’t suffered as long as she had. But even so—if she did this, wouldn’t she be just like him?

You hoped—no, you prayed—that Jungkook would come to his senses. That something in him would recognize your mother. That he wouldn’t let his own thirst for revenge for his own mother blind him into doing this.

You didn’t want him to do something like this. Not to your father. Not to anyone.

He wasn’t like that.

He was a good man.

You cursed yourself for lashing out at him yesterday. Maybe if you had just listened—really listened—if you had tried to understand why he did what he did, he would have reconsidered. Maybe he would have stopped himself before it was too late. Maybe you could have helped him, reminded him of the good in him before he let the darkness swallow him whole.

But no. Like a coward, you abandoned him. You left him alone with his thoughts, with the weight of his choices and the crushing consequences that followed. And now, you hated yourself even more.

You had promised to be there for him.

And yet, when it mattered most—you weren’t.

By the time you reached your home, your feet were sore, every step burning with exhaustion. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your chest heaving. The metallic taste of blood coated your tongue from how hard you had been running—how hard you had been crying.

And yet, nothing could prepare you for what you were about to walk into.

You recognized his posture instantly. Even from a distance, there was no mistaking the way his broad shoulders slouched forward, how his head hung low, frozen in place as he stared at the front door of your home.

But it was his outfit that made your stomach twist.

The black tactical gear—the one you never wanted to see. Tight fabric clinging to him, one sleeve long, the other arm bare. His back adorned with the holster, a weapon strapped securely in place. A uniform of violence. A reminder of what he was capable of.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to move closer. Maybe you were just in time. Maybe you could stop him before he stepped inside, before he did something he would regret for the rest of his life.

Your voice wavered as you called out his name.

“Jungkook?”

You needed to see his face. To find something—anything—in his expression that would tell you he wouldn’t go through with it. That despite the hatred burning in his heart—toward your father, toward men like him—he could still choose a different path.

He didn’t turn around right away. You watched his fists clench tightly at his sides, his chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths—like he was trying to keep himself from breaking apart.

You took another step closer, hesitant, your movements small and unsure. Deep down, you knew—whatever happened next would change everything. Your life was standing at the edge of a precipice, teetering, and you weren’t sure if you were ready to know what lay beyond the fall.

“Kook?” Your voice was gentle, a stark contrast to the storm you could feel brewing inside him.

And then, finally, he turned around.

Your stomach lurched.

Blood.

It was smeared across his face, staining the curve of his cheek, the bridge of his nose. His hands—bloody. His black outfit—soaked.

Blood. Everywhere.

But he was standing. Unscathed. His body untouched by any violence.

Which could only mean one thing.

It wasn’t his.

It was your father’s.

It was too late.

You brought your trembling hand to your mouth, trying to muffle the scream clawing its way up your throat, but nothing came out. No sound. No words. Just the crushing weight of silence as your lungs tightened, suffocating on the realization settling in your bones.

Your knees threatened to give out beneath you, legs shaking so violently you didn’t even know how you were still standing.

Jungkook moved instinctively, reaching out to steady you—but the second he caught sight of his own hands, dripping with blood, he yanked them back. He couldn’t touch you. He wouldn’t.

Not with this. Not with himself.

You didn’t deserve to be tainted.

Your body finally gave in, knees crashing against the cold concrete as the first sob broke free.

But it wasn’t yours.

It was his.

Jungkook fell beside you, his bloody hands clawing at his hair, his head bowing so low it looked like he was trying to curl in on himself—to disappear. To sink into the earth and never be seen again.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out.

Again. And again.

Each time more broken. More slurred. Until the words themselves dissolved into his cries, swallowed whole by his grief.

You weren’t even crying. You couldn’t.

Instead, all you could do was watch Jungkook.

The man who had done this. The man who had done it for you.

But looking at him now, wrecked and unraveling, you realized something—this wasn’t victory for him. This wasn’t justice or relief. This was pain.

Jungkook was hurting. He had always been hurting.

Your body moved before your mind caught up, crawling toward him despite the sharp sting of gravel scraping against your palms and knees.

Your hands trembled as they hovered over his head, afraid to touch him, to feel the warmth of fresh blood that coated him.

“Jungkook,” you whispered, voice barely above a breath.

You hesitated for only a second before your fingers finally sank into his hair—right where it was still clean, untouched by blood.

“Hey,” your voice cracked, pleading. “Please. Please, Jungkook. I need you to explain everything to me.”

Because even though you already knew what had happened inside that house, you needed to hear him say it. You needed him to admit the truth.

But he only shook his head violently, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to form words, but nothing was clear—his sobs swallowed everything whole, turning his voice into nothing but a broken mess of anguish.

You inhaled sharply, forcing yourself to stay steady even as your chest tightened.

“I need you to calm down for me, Kook.”

Your eyes squeezed shut as you cupped his cheeks, ignoring the way his blood smeared against your skin. It didn’t matter. Not right now.

Because you knew—this was the only way to bring him back. To get him to breathe.

Jungkook clung to you like a lifeline, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his arms locking around you in a desperate grip. His whole body trembled against yours, like he was trying to make himself smaller, like he could just disappear if he held on tightly enough.

“It wasn’t me,” he whispered, voice cracking. “I swear, it wasn’t—”

Your fingers, which had been threading through his hair, suddenly stilled.

Your eyes drifted toward the house.

Jungkook must have felt the change in you because he pulled back, wide, desperate eyes searching yours. His face was a mess—blood smeared across his cheeks, his lips trembling, his entire body screaming please believe me.

And yet—truth.

You saw it, clear as day. The guilt. The sadness. But also, the truth.

Something inside you shifted, and before you could even process it, your body was moving.

You pushed yourself off the ground, your legs still shaky beneath you as you started toward the house.

Jungkook was on you instantly, hands grabbing your shoulders, his warmth pressing against you like an unspoken don’t do this.

“Baby,” he pleaded, voice hoarse, broken. He reached for your hands, trying to keep you close. “No, please. Don’t go in there.”

You shoved his hands away—not out of anger, but because you had to do this. You needed to see. To face it.

You took a step forward.

“Wait for me,” was all you said, your voice eerily steady, before you walked inside without sparing him another glance.

You push the door open, your breath caught in your throat as your eyes flicker around the dimly lit house. The air is thick—too still, too heavy. A soft whistle drifts from the living room, followed by the lazy hum of a voice, casual, almost serene.

Your steps are light, hesitant, but your body moves forward as if pulled by something stronger than fear.

And then you see her.

Your mother’s head peeks over the back of the sofa, her silhouette illuminated by the faint glow of the lamp beside her. A glass of wine rests elegantly in her hand, her fingers wrapped delicately around the stem as she swirls the deep red liquid.

Her heels—her polished, pristine heels—are propped carelessly on a body.

Lifeless.

Your father’s body.

You try not to look. You shouldn’t look. But your eyes betray you, drawn to the scene despite every fiber of your being screaming against it.

His face is turned away, pressed into the thick fibers of the carpet, but the sight is still unbearable. The back of his dark hair is soaked, a deep crimson pooling around his head, staining the fabric beneath him. The blood has already begun to dry at the edges, smearing where it shouldn’t.

The world tilts beneath you.

Your mother takes a slow sip of her wine, exhaling softly as if this were just another quiet evening.

She must have seen you—your reflection flickering in the old television screen. Her eyes meet yours, widening in disbelief.

“You’re here,” she breathes, standing abruptly, her wine glass clinking against the table as she reaches for you.

You step back. Swat her hands away before she can touch you.

Her fingers are clean. Too clean. Cleaner than Jungkook’s, yet somehow, they feel filthier. It’s all over her—not just her hands but her face, her movements, her eyes.

Eyes that, unlike Jungkook’s, hold no pain. No guilt.

Only calculation.

“He—” she starts, voice trembling, a performance already beginning. “A boy. Around your age. He came in and—”

Then the tears come. Loud. Too loud. The kind that should shake a person’s chest but don’t. The kind that fill a room but leave it feeling empty.

She doesn’t realize it, but she’s already lost.

Her story doesn’t make sense.

Without meaning to, she’s told on herself.

And she doesn’t even know it.

She grabs your collar, her fingers clutching onto the fabric like a lifeline, but you shove her away.

“Don’t.” Your voice is cold, sharp. You raise a finger at her, your posture stiff, unwavering.

You should trust her—she’s your mother, after all. That’s what daughters are supposed to do. But how could you?

She says she cares, says she’s always cared. But this is the same woman who neglected you for years, who only ever looked at you with resentment, who never saw you as anything more than a burden.

You can’t trust her.

Not when you know what real guilt looks like.

Not when there’s a boy outside, broken, sobbing, wearing the weight of a crime he didn’t commit.

“Don’t try to make him guilty,” you say.

Her face shifts in an instant. The cracks in her act show. The performance is over.

Silently, she wipes away the tears that had managed to slip through.

“I don’t fucking care what you did,” you start, voice steady despite the rage simmering beneath your skin. “You had your reasons. I can understand them. But don’t you dare try to ruin someone else’s life because of it.”

Your voice comes out louder than you intended, the weight of your words crashing between you like a storm.

She scoffs—a cold, empty sound that chills you more than the sight of the body at her feet. She rolls her eyes as if you’re the one being unreasonable.

“So what?” she exhales, walking to the coffee table to pick up a cigarette. “How do you expect me to act, then?”

“You want to be strong? Want to be independent?” You take a step closer, jaw tight as you spit the words at her like venom. “Then fucking face the consequences like a woman.”

Every syllable burns your throat.

Because the truth is, for a moment, you really thought she had changed.

That night, when she held you after your father threw you out, when she handed you a packed bag like she had planned for this, when she looked at Jungkook and told you he might be good for you—

You thought, for the first time in your life, you had finally found a mother.

But now?

Now, you see the truth.

That woman never existed.

She had always been the same woman.

Engulfed in anger, swallowed whole by the unfair world she was forced to live in. She carried that rage like a second skin, let it shape her into something unrecognizable, something cruel.

Her hatred had no face, no single target—just an untitled entity, an ever-present shadow looming over her. She couldn’t name the root of it, couldn’t pinpoint where it began, but she made sure to nurture it, to let it grow until it consumed her completely.

And it did. It always did.

She tried, once. Tried to be good. For you. Because somewhere, buried beneath all the bitterness, she wanted to make things right.

But her hatred toward the world always came back.

It was all she ever knew. Hatred. Anger. Violence.

And in the end, it was all she had left.

You could give her two choices—two paths that would determine everything.

The first was to walk away. To disappear from this town, from your life, from everything that had led to this moment. She could let Jungkook’s people handle the mess, let them make the body vanish, let them erase the evidence as if none of it had ever happened. She could take the money, your father’s money, and finally live the life she always claimed she wanted. No more struggling, no more excuses, no more pretending to be a mother when she never truly was. You wouldn’t stop her. You wouldn’t chase after her. If she left, she would be nothing more than a memory—a closed chapter in a book you never wanted to read again.

The second option was to face what she had done. To go to the police, turn herself in, and admit the truth. I did it. No lies, no shifting blame, no pretending someone else’s hands were stained with blood when it was her own. It would mean consequences, judgment, prison. It would mean the end of the life she knew. But it would also mean accountability. A rare kind of justice in a world where women like her were rarely given the power to take it for themselves.

Whatever she chose, one thing was certain: you wouldn’t let her drag Jungkook down with her.

Because he was the only thing that mattered now. He had done things—terrible things, things you didn’t want to think about, things that made your stomach twist—but never to you. To you, he had been kind. He had been patient. He had been the only one who saw you, protected you, gave you something that almost felt like safety.

The only one who ever did.

Call it selfish, call it blind devotion, call it whatever you wanted—you didn’t care. You were willing to close your eyes to what Jungkook had done. Not because you didn’t understand the weight of it, but because you understood him. You knew what had led him to this, knew the pain, the anger, the desperation that had built up inside him for years. And you knew, without a doubt, that he could change. That he wanted to change.

You heard it in the way his sobs cracked through the silence outside. Saw it in the way his bloody hands trembled, as if he could still feel the weight of what had happened. He wasn’t numb to it. He wasn’t indifferent. And that was enough for you to take the risk. To throw yourself into the unknown with him, no matter how dangerous it might be.

Your mother, on the other hand, made her choice without hesitation.

Like the coward she had always been, she chose to run. To take the money and disappear into the life she had always dreamed of, without a second thought, without a glance back.

Not for you.

Not for him.

Not for anyone but herself.

She didn’t spare you another glance as you walked out the door, stepping out of the house that had never truly felt like a home. You knew you’d never come back—not to this place, not to the memories that had poisoned every corner of it. The family that once lived here was gone. If it had ever really existed at all.

For the first time, you felt the full weight of it—you were alone. Truly, completely alone. And yet, there was no urge to pretend otherwise. No need to cling to the illusion of a love that had never been there.

But maybe—just maybe—you weren’t as alone as you thought.

Your eyes landed on him.

Jungkook hadn’t moved. He was still kneeling on the pavement, his body curled in on itself, as if bracing for impact. As if he knew what was coming. His head lifted slightly when he saw you step outside, his breath catching in his throat. He was ready. Ready for you to scream at him, to shove him away, to hit him, to hate him.

He would take it. Whatever you gave him.

But he wasn’t ready for this.

He wasn’t ready for your arms wrapping around him, for the way your body sank against his, for the way your fingers curled into his hair like you were afraid he’d disappear if you let go.

He wasn’t ready for your warmth.

And for the first time that night, Jungkook broke for a different reason.

Your embrace was abruptly broken by the sound of tires screeching to a halt outside. The black car came to a stop in front of the house, and two men emerged from it, their faces masked with indifference as they made their way inside without sparing a glance in your direction. They didn’t need to look at you, and they didn’t need to say anything. They knew what had to be done.

Before you could even process what was happening, before you could even bring yourself to watch them disappear into the house, you grabbed Jungkook’s arm and pulled him to his feet. His gaze was distant, lost, but you didn’t give him a chance to protest. You had no words to offer him—only the feeling that something had to be done, that it was time to leave.

“Let’s go home,” you said, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside.

Home.

It wasn’t a house or a place you had ever known, but it was where you felt safe now. The small motel room, tucked away from the world, where nothing could hurt you, where you could hide away from the mess that had become your life.

You didn’t care about the consequences, didn’t care about what came next. It was just you and him. And that was all that mattered.

He remained silent, not a word escaping from his lips as you gently removed his clothes. There was no resistance, no hesitation. He didn’t even meet your gaze, as if he couldn’t bear to look at you, or perhaps he simply couldn’t find the strength to do so. He let you tend to him, taking care of him like you would a child—soft, delicate, with the kind of care he had never known despite from his mother.

You didn’t ask for any explanation, didn’t push him for words. His silence was enough. You didn’t need him to tell you what had happened, you didn’t need the details. You already knew. What mattered was that he was here, with you, and that he hadn’t pushed you away. That was enough.

When the room was bathed in darkness, the only light now coming from the faint moonlight filtering through the window, he whispered, barely audible, “I love you.”

The words hung in the air, fragile and raw. You froze for a moment, your heart stuttering in your chest. It wasn’t just the words, it was everything behind them.

You turned toward him, your eyes wide, instinctively reaching out for him. He was lying on his back, his hands resting over his stomach, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. There was a subtle tremor in his body, a trace of uncertainty in the way he lay there, as if he was still unsure of your reaction. His confession wasn’t just a declaration—it was a fragile offering, a piece of him that he was terrified to give away.

You swallowed hard, your voice soft as you responded, “I love you too.”

You could feel the weight of your own emotions, the rawness of everything that had passed between you. But in that moment, in that silence shared between the two of you, you both understood without needing to say anything else. The love wasn’t just in the words—it was in the way he let you care for him, in the way you let him fall apart and still found it in yourself to hold him. It was in the trust, the unspoken promise that, no matter what had happened, you’d stand together now.

You didn’t know what the future held, what you both would have to face tomorrow or in the days to come. But for now, the world outside seemed distant, irrelevant. In this moment, it was just you and him, two souls tangled in the quiet of the night, clinging to each other in a way that felt both fragile and irrevocable.

The sun filtered softly through the gap in the curtains, its warm rays hitting the room, stirring the stillness that hung heavy in the air. You hadn’t even remembered to close them last night, too lost in the quiet aftermath of everything that had happened.

It was Friday.

The day that seemed like it would stretch on forever, yet the ticking of the clock reminded you that time was running out. You could feel the weight of it, the pressure in your chest—soon, the men would come. And you had no idea what would happen once they did. Everything was teetering on the edge of uncertainty.

Jungkook was still asleep beside you, his face peaceful, his breathing even. He was calm, vulnerable in the most fragile way, as if he had found a semblance of peace in the quiet of this room. You almost felt guilty for the thought that soon, you’d have to wake him up to face a reality neither of you were prepared for.

His life, your life—it felt like everything was still hanging by a thin thread. The future seemed so blurry, like a fog you couldn’t break through. You didn’t know what would come next, or how any of this would play out. But the reality was clear: no matter what, it wasn’t going to be easy.

But you couldn’t avoid it. The future was uncertain, but one thing was for sure: you would face it together. Even if the road ahead was dark and winding, you couldn’t let go of him.

“Kook,” you whispered, your fingers gently tracing the outline of his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. It was grounding, comforting, a rhythm that reminded you that he was still here, with you. Still alive, still fighting, even if you both didn’t fully understand what that fight meant yet. You couldn’t imagine letting go of this connection, the warmth of his presence beneath your touch.

He stirred, a low groan escaping his lips, his pout deepening as his eyes fluttered open for a brief moment. He looked so innocent—more innocent than you’d ever thought possible. It was strange, almost surreal, to see him like this, especially when you knew the weight he carried on his shoulders, the blood on his hands. But in this moment, there was a vulnerability in him, one that almost felt untouched by the world’s cruelty.

In that softness, you could see it—the innocence that had been stripped from him far too soon, the innocence that life and people had cruelly taken away. But you would make sure, you promised yourself, that he would find it again. That he would learn to live beyond the pain and darkness, to see himself in a light that wasn’t defined by what he’d been forced to endure.

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, letting your lips linger there just a little longer than you’d intended. It was a soft, tender moment, but you needed him to wake up, to face the world, even if it felt impossible right now. “Baby,” you said again, your voice softer, coaxing him out of his slumber.

That was when you felt the shift. His lips twitched into a grin, the corners of his mouth curving upward in that familiar bunny smile that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. “You like that when I call you baby?” you teased, pinching his cheeks gently, your fingers grazing the soft skin.

Before you knew it, you were showering him with tiny kisses, pecking his cheek, his forehead, his nose—just to feel him respond, to feel the spark of life that still resided in him. It wasn’t enough just to exist beside him. You wanted to make him feel alive, wanted him to remember there was still love, still tenderness in this cruel world.

And in those moments, you could pretend that everything else—the violence, the danger, the uncertainty—didn’t exist. In that simple, beautiful exchange, it was just you and him, and that’s all that mattered.

He gently wraps his hands around your waist, lifting you effortlessly, and pulls you onto your back once more. His body hovers above you, warmth radiating from him as his lips find yours. Soft and tender, his kisses trail from your forehead, brushing over your eyes, before finally landing on your lips. You breathe him in, your body relaxing into the weight of his gentle touch, as his kisses move lower, grazing your neck—a spot that’s always been a place of comfort for both of you.

“I like it,” he murmurs into your skin, his voice thick with sleep and something deeper, something more genuine. His breath is warm against your pulse as he speaks, and you can’t help but smile, a mix of affection and the quiet relief of being so close to him.

“I like it too when you call me that,” you admit softly, your hands slipping around his back to pull him even closer, the comfort of his presence grounding you in this moment.

He lets his breath ghost over your skin, each exhale a silent confession of everything he couldn’t say before, but now needed to. His words are quiet, but they come with a weight that settles between you both. “I love you,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “I don’t deserve you, not after everything… but thank you. Thank you for trusting me.”

His words seem to hang in the air, a promise and an apology, both tangled together. You feel his hands gently move along your body, every touch deliberate, careful, as if he’s making sure you know just how deeply he feels. His chest presses close to yours, his heart beating in rhythm with yours, the warmth between you creating a perfect, fragile connection.

He holds your gaze, his eyes intense yet vulnerable, conveying every unspoken thought. His movements are slow, almost reverent, as if he’s savoring every moment, every inch of this intimacy. There’s a depth to it, a quiet understanding that speaks louder than words. In the silence, you can hear him—not just through his lips, but in the way his body speaks to yours, telling you without a doubt how much he loves you.

Jungkook’s quiet sobs racked through his body, his chest trembling with every soft sound of pain and longing. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, as if trying to disappear into you, to make sure you were the last thing he felt, the last thing he could hold onto. His movements were slow but urgent, as if he wanted to imprint every sensation into his memory, to make sure that you were the final image that stayed in his mind.

With every kiss, every touch, he was telling you without words that this was all he wanted—you. His heart, his soul, his entire being, all focused on you in this fragile moment.

“I love you,” he whispered through his tears, his voice cracked, as if the weight of his emotions was too much to carry. “I love you so much, and I just… I want to be with you forever. You’re the last thing I need, the last thing I want to feel.”

You could hear the pain in his voice, the fear of losing this, of losing you. And yet, despite the tears, there was a tenderness in the way he moved, the way he whispered your name, as if trying to cherish every second, every movement.

You held him tighter, your own heart aching with the intensity of the moment, and whispered back, “I love you too, Jungkook. Always.”

And as he continued, each movement slower than the last, it felt like time was stretching out, like this was a fragile thread between you both, one that neither of you wanted to let go of. His body shuddered with every breath, as if trying to memorize everything about you, as if trying to make sure that, no matter what happened, you would be the last thing he would know.

A knock echoed against the door, sharp and final, like a countdown to the inevitable. Jungkook glanced at you, lying there with your hair scattered across the pillows, an angelic sight despite the chaos swirling around you. Your eyes were wide with fear and disbelief, locking onto him as if hoping for some sign that this wasn’t really happening.

His chest rose with a deep breath, his entire body tense as he slowly pulled out of you, a deep sadness in his gaze. He slipped out of the bed, his movements mechanical, like someone accepting their fate. He didn’t need to say it aloud—he knew what was coming. No amount of money, no amount of bargaining or pleading, would ever be enough to satisfy the primal need for vengeance that others carried in their hearts. He understood that better than anyone. People like him.

His fingers trembled slightly as he pulled on his jeans, the denim cold against his skin, before he buckled his belt with a practiced, resigned motion. He threw on a t-shirt, the fabric settling over his torso like armor he never wanted to wear but had no choice but to don.

He turned to look at you, and in that moment, he saw you clutching the sheets to your chest, your face filled with worry, fear, and a silent plea for him to stay. “Jungkook,” your voice was soft, barely a whisper, but it struck him like a blow. You were rushing to dress yourself too, panic rising in your chest as the reality of the situation hit.

The knock came again, louder this time, more urgent, pulling him out of his thoughts. He glanced back at you one more time, the silent love in his eyes a stark contrast to the grim resolve in his movements. “I’ll be back,” he promised, though neither of you believed it.

The knock came again, insistent and unforgiving. He turned and, with one last lingering look, opened the door, stepping into whatever fate awaited him on the other side.

A familiar voice cuts through the tense air, smooth and deep, tinged with a hint of amusement.

“Took you long enough.” The man standing at the door has sharp, cat-like eyes, his smirk almost playful as he flicks his cigarette butt onto the floor, his gaze sweeping over Jungkook as he stands at the threshold.

Jungkook’s heart feels a weight lift at the sight of him. “Yoongi,” he breathes out, the name almost a relief. If he could, he would have run into the older man’s arms, seeking some semblance of safety, some connection to hold on to. He had been ready to face whatever was coming for him, but seeing Yoongi, there was a brief moment where it felt like the world slowed down, allowing him a few more minutes, maybe even an hour, before everything came crashing down.

Without ceremony, Yoongi tosses a duffel bag to the floor at Jungkook’s feet. “It was at my door,” he mutters, his voice casual, almost bored, as he drops his cigarette to the floor. “Thought I’d bring it to you. You know how it goes.”

Jungkook stares at the bag, a frown tugging at his features as he nudges it with his foot. The bag feels heavier than it looks, bulging with something more than just clothes or gear. “What is that?” he asks, his curiosity creeping in, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

Yoongi shrugs nonchalantly, walking over to the bag and crouching down to unzip it. “A lot of money. More than we ever asked for.” He scoffs as if the amount was nothing out of the ordinary, his fingers rummaging through the contents with ease. “Someone sure is generous today.”

Jungkook’s mind struggles to catch up, his words faltering. “Is it—” He swallows hard, the knot in his stomach tightening. Only one person could have arranged something like this, only one person could have pulled this off.

“Yeah,” Yoongi cuts him off with a slight chuckle, “the crazy one.” He gives a short, dry laugh, his gaze distant for a moment as if recalling a memory. “She’s something else, that one. Honestly, didn’t think she’d come through with all of it. But here we are.” Yoongi pats Jungkook on the shoulder, the gesture almost mocking, but there’s a flicker of something else—perhaps acknowledgment. “Guess you did a good job. She’s pleased.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen as the weight of it sinks in. “I didn’t—” His voice trails off, and he shakes his head in disbelief. “I didn’t do anything. She fucking did it. She was the one—”

Yoongi’s voice snaps him back to the present. “You’re not off the hook yet, kid. But this? This is a hell of a start.” He gestures at the duffel bag like it’s nothing, as if it were just another day in their fucked-up world. “You got the money, now it’s time to figure out what the hell you’re going to do with it.”

You step out of the door, unable to stay inside any longer. Your pulse quickens as your gaze moves from Jungkook to the man standing next to him—his face familiar, but not a person you’ve ever really seen up close. The recognition hits you, but you can’t place where exactly you’ve seen him before.

As your eyes flick down, the duffel bag at Jungkook’s feet catches your attention. Your heart skips a beat, and you already know what the answer will be, but the question slips out of your mouth anyway. “What is that?”

The question hangs in the air, and Jungkook hesitates for a moment, his tongue absently toying with the lip ring that rests on his bottom lip. He glances at Yoongi over your shoulder, his eyes unreadable.

Yoongi, standing a few feet away, assesses the situation with sharp eyes, his gaze flicking between you and Jungkook. His expression is calculating, like he’s trying to figure out who you are, how you fit into this whole mess.

“Money,” Jungkook mutters, voice low. He takes a deep breath before continuing, and you feel the weight of his words land on you even before they hit your ears. “From your mom.”

The second those words leave his lips, Yoongi’s eyes widen. His reaction is immediate, the surprise flickering across his face before he masks it with a scoff. He mutters a curse under his breath, clearly caught off guard.

“Well, well,” Yoongi chuckles darkly, shaking his head in disbelief. “She really did go all in, didn’t she?” He steps forward, his gaze flicking over the bag once more. “Guess that explains a lot,” he adds, a mixture of intrigue and disbelief in his voice.

You kneel down in front of the duffel bag, your fingers grazing over the stacks of money inside. The weight of it is overwhelming, not just in terms of its physical presence but the meaning behind it. It feels like a final attempt from your mother in her twisted, complicated way, she still wanted to make sure you had a chance. That there was one last opportunity for something better, something that didn’t involve this suffocating life.

The thought that this money could be your ticket out of here, a chance to start fresh with Jungkook, feels surreal. Maybe it wasn’t just a gesture for you. Maybe it was the last act of someone who knew they had nothing left to give except this—an offering to keep you safe, to ensure that the chaos and darkness of your life didn’t swallow you whole.

Your breath catches in your chest as you lift your gaze from the bag and meet Jungkook’s eyes. A smile tugs at your lips, despite the storm of thoughts swirling in your mind. “Jungkook, we have enough money now,” you murmur, trying to hide the mix of disbelief and excitement.

And before you can even process the full weight of the moment, a laugh bursts out of you, uncontrollable and full of something between relief and disbelief. You throw yourself into his arms, seeking comfort in his warmth, feeling the tension in your body loosen for just a moment.

Jungkook holds you tightly, but there’s hesitation in his touch. His fingers don’t grip you like they usually do. They linger, unsure. You feel it in the way his body tenses, in the way his chest rises and falls. He doesn’t want to believe it, doesn’t want to let himself hope that this might actually be the way out.

“I don’t know,” he mutters quietly, his voice barely above a whisper as he pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and clouded with doubt. “They could still turn on me. What if they don’t keep their word?” The fear in his voice is raw, and you can hear the struggle in his words—the desperate hope and the deep-rooted fear that it might all crumble, that his life is still hanging by a thread.

Before you can reassure him, the older man, Yoongi, lets out a low laugh from behind you. He’s been watching the scene unfold with an almost amused expression, his arms crossed as he observes the two of you. “Enough money for what?” Yoongi asks, his voice skeptical, but laced with curiosity. He’s still not quite sure what you two are planning, what your next move is. His eyes flick between you and Jungkook, waiting for an explanation.

Jungkook looks at the floor for a moment, avoiding Yoongi’s gaze. Then, he opens his mouth, his voice barely audible, a hint of shame in his words. “I… I want to get out of here. Far away from all this. No more running, no more hiding. Just… somewhere safe. Somewhere we can start over.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. “You’re not just going to take the money and run off into the sunset, are you?” His tone is more knowing than mocking, and it stirs something inside of you—a sense that Yoongi, even with his tough exterior, knows exactly what you and Jungkook are up against.

Jungkook looks up, his eyes hardening as he glances at Yoongi. “We have to. It’s the only way out,” he says, a firmness in his voice now.

You squeeze his hand tighter, and as much as Yoongi’s words cut through the fragile bubble of hope you’ve allowed yourself to create, you refuse to back down. You can’t—this is your chance, your only chance.

“We’re leaving,” you say, your voice steady, no longer wavering. “We’re going somewhere else, somewhere no one can touch us.”

Yoongi leans back against the wall, letting out a long sigh as he exhales. “You really think they’re just going to let you go? You don’t think they’ll come after you?”

Jungkook’s eyes darken, the fear in his expression now shifting into something else—a mix of anger and determination. “Let them come,” he says, voice low but filled with resolve. “I’ll face whatever I have to.”

The tension in the room thickens, and you feel the weight of the decision you’ve made press against you like a heavy burden. But you can’t go back now. You won’t. You’ve come too far, and this is the only way out—for both of you.

Yoongi watches the two of you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he uncrosses his arms and sighs. “Well, if you’re sure, then I guess there’s nothing more to be said. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. The road ahead’s not going to be easy.”

He looks at the duffel bag of money at Jungkook’s feet, the final piece of the puzzle, the last thread of hope. “But, good luck. You’re gonna need it.”

With that, he turns on his heel and walks away leaving you and Jungkook standing in the silence, the weight of everything hanging between you.

“We should go,” Jungkook says urgently, his voice steady despite the underlying tension as he grabs your hand and pulls you back into the room. His touch is firm, like a lifeline—like he’s already imagining the future, a future away from all this chaos.

“We should run away and never come back,” he continues, his words tumbling out in a rush as he starts throwing his belongings into his backpack, each motion quick and deliberate. “They won’t find me.” There’s a determination in his voice, one that makes you feel like this could be your chance to leave it all behind, to disappear for good. You don’t hesitate; you start packing too, grabbing only the essentials, only what truly matters.

Minutes pass in a blur. You work in sync, moving quickly, but the heavy weight of time still presses on you, as if the clock is ticking down to something inevitable.

“Where should we go?” you ask, your voice lighter than it should be, the smile on your lips a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. Despite everything, despite the fear that still lingers in the pit of your stomach, you can’t help but feel a spark of something else—hope.

“Jeju,” Jungkook replies without missing a beat, his voice filled with a quiet resolve. “I always dreamed of a house there.” He pauses for a moment, turning to look at you with that familiar, gentle smile—the one you’ve come to love. His eyes soften, and his lips pull up into his signature bunny smile. “We could build something there,” he adds, his voice barely above a whisper, as if the idea of it still feels too surreal.

You meet his gaze, and for a moment, the world outside doesn’t matter. It’s just the two of you. You nod, the smile never leaving your face, and without saying anything more, you both finish gathering your things, making sure nothing important is left behind.

Together, you head for the door, hands clasped tightly. Jungkook’s duffel bag hangs over his shoulder, and the weight of it doesn’t seem so heavy anymore. It’s not just the bag; it’s the future that feels lighter now, somehow more attainable.

You walk out of the motel room, side by side, the door clicking shut behind you, leaving that part of your life behind. It feels like a fresh start, even if you can’t quite believe it yet.

Hand in hand, you step into the unknown—ready to create a life of your own, far away from everything that has tried to break you both.

You should have told him to stay. To face the consequences, to settle his debts the right way, because that’s what people are supposed to do. But the world wasn’t built on what was right—it was built on power, on survival. And now that you had seen firsthand what people were capable of, how violence could be so easily justified, so casually executed, you knew better. You knew that no amount of money was worth his life.

So you would run. Hide. Disappear into the cracks of the world where no one could find you. With this much money, you could vanish for years—long enough to become ghosts, long enough to start over somewhere new, somewhere safe. Maybe even settle down, live a quiet life, far from the bloodstained streets you were leaving behind.

It was an ugly truth, but you couldn’t ignore the relief blooming in your chest. As much as you resented her, you couldn’t deny that, in her own twisted way, your mother had given you a final gift. The closure you had needed. The chance to walk away from it all.

You weren’t sure where she had gone, or if she would ever truly find the happiness she was chasing. But in that one final act—handing over enough money to buy your freedom—she was telling you to find yours.

And you would.

Jungkook suddenly stopped in his tracks, his grip on your hand loosening before he let go entirely.

“Wait,” he said, his voice rushed, breathless.

You turned around immediately, heart pounding at the sudden change in his demeanor. His face was pale, his brows drawn together in a way that made worry settle deep in your chest.

“Are you okay? Did you forget something?” you asked, already reaching to take the duffel bag from his grasp, thinking maybe he was struggling under its weight.

“Yeah… Sukchul,” he breathed out, his shoulders relaxing just a little.

Relief flooded through you when you realized it wasn’t something life-threatening. You had half-expected him to say something that would shatter the illusion of escape you were holding onto.

“I have to tell him I’m going,” he continued.

Before you could say anything—not that you would have stopped him—he was already turning on his heel, heading toward the small, weathered shop.

And honestly, you were glad. You wanted to see the old man one last time, too. Because deep down, you knew that if you ever did come back here, there was a chance he might not be here anymore.

The old man emerged from the storage room the moment he heard the bell chime. His face softened into a gentle smile as he took in the sight of both of you standing there, hands clasped together, backpacks slung over your shoulders. His gaze lingered for a moment on your intertwined fingers, on the quiet determination in Jungkook’s eyes, and the way yours glowed with something close to hope.

“I’m glad you’re not leaving alone this time,” he said, his voice warm but laced with something bittersweet. He busied himself with placing a record back on its shelf, as if focusing on something mundane would make saying goodbye easier.

But this time, his farewell wasn’t weighed down by worry. This time, he felt relief.

Jungkook squeezed your hand once before letting go, stepping forward and pulling the older man into a tight embrace. Sukchul hesitated for just a second before returning it, patting the younger’s back.

“I’ll do things right this time,” Jungkook murmured, voice thick with quiet resolve.

You watched as Sukchul pulled away slightly, studying the boy—no, the man—he had watched stumble through life, making mistake after mistake, but never truly losing himself. You wondered if the old man had always known. If he had turned a blind eye to the things Jungkook had done, hoping that one day, he would choose a different path.

And now, he was.

You knew just how much Sukchul meant to Jungkook. Even after years of running, of losing himself in the chaos, he always found his way back to the old man who had once given him warmth when the world had been nothing but cold. Sukchul was the one constant in his life, the one person who had never turned his back on him.

“You’ll take care of him, right?” Sukchul’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

You scoffed lightly, shaking your head at the absurdity of the question. “Of course, I will.”

Because even though Jungkook had spent years surviving on his own—hardened, rough around the edges, someone who had learned to depend on no one—he still needed someone. Maybe now more than ever.

He needed someone who would take care of him, not because he couldn’t do it himself, but because no one ever had. He needed someone to be his friend, his family—the kind life had ripped away from him too soon. And yes, he needed someone to love him, not out of obligation, not because it was expected, but because he deserved it.

With Jungkook, you were someone. You were already someone. Not just the girl he held onto, not just the idea of stability in a world that had never given him any. You weren’t just the woman he wanted to settle down with because that’s what men his age were supposed to do.

You were the one who made him feel safe.

The one who made him feel something real.

Enough that he hadn’t run away this time, even when his life was at risk.

Enough that he had broken his promise—had chosen to walk away instead of taking another life, instead of killing the man who had caused you so much pain.

Because it was you.

The sound of an old, familiar engine roaring through the streets made both of you turn around sharply. Your stomach clenched, heart hammering in your chest as you realized—there was no more time. They were probably at the motel by now, searching the streets, trying to predict where Jungkook would go. It wouldn’t take long before they thought of the record shop.

“Fuck.” Jungkook cursed under his breath, fingers tightening around yours.

Sukchul furrowed his brows, glancing between the two of you. But then, as his gaze landed on the way you clutched at Jungkook’s arm, your wide, panicked eyes darting between him and the door, his face softened with understanding. He let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as if this was something he had seen before.

“Take my car,” he said simply, without hesitation, tossing the keys to Jungkook.

Jungkook caught them mid-air, blinking in surprise. “Sukchul—”

“Don’t argue,” the old man cut him off, waving a dismissive hand. “Just go. Get the hell out of here before it’s too late.”

Jungkook looked down at the keys in his hand, jaw tightening. The weight of Sukchul’s kindness settled heavy in his chest. It reminded him of a memory he had long buried—the day a woman had once done the same for his mother, handing over a set of keys with quiet urgency, telling her to run.

It was a debt he had never been able to repay.

His throat felt tight, but he nodded, shoving the keys into his pocket before grabbing your hand again. “Let’s go.”

You looked up at Sukchul one last time, your chest swelling with gratitude, with the bittersweet understanding that this was goodbye. You wanted to say something—to thank him, to promise you’d take care of Jungkook—but all that came out was a shaky breath.

“Go,” Sukchul urged again, but his voice was gentler this time. “And don’t look back.”

And so you didn’t.

With Jungkook leading the way, fingers laced tightly with yours, you ran.

You barely had time to catch your breath before throwing yourself into the passenger seat. Jungkook tossed the duffel bag and his backpack onto the backseat, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as his eyes flickered between the rearview mirror and the empty road ahead. His breathing was shallow, panicked, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

You reached out instinctively, placing your hand on his thigh, trying to ground him.

“Jungkook,” you whispered, voice steady despite the adrenaline still coursing through you.

He turned the key in the ignition, the car coming to life with a low rumble. His fingers flexed around the wheel, knuckles turning white. “Fuck,” he muttered, exhaling sharply. “I can’t drive for shit.”

A laugh burst from your chest before you could stop it. The confession was so unexpected, so ridiculously timed, that it cracked through the tension in the car like lightning.

Jungkook turned to you, his wide, doe-like eyes narrowing in faux annoyance. “Stop making fun of me,” he mumbled, lips twitching like he was trying to hold back a smile.

You bit your lip, failing miserably at suppressing another laugh.

“I’ll teach you,” you promised, squeezing his thigh reassuringly. “Just like you did with me and the bike.”

He scoffed, shaking his head, but you could see the tension in his shoulders loosen slightly.

“Alright, first thing’s first,” you began, your voice taking on a teasing lilt. “The big pedal is the gas, the other one is the brake—”

“Shut up,” he groaned, but there was warmth in his voice now, a small, reluctant grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he listened to you explain.

Jungkook started the car, the vehicle jerking forward awkwardly before he pressed down on the gas a little too hard. The sudden acceleration made him yelp, his hands gripping the wheel for dear life.

“Don’t put too much pressure on the pedal!” you shouted, instinctively reaching for the dashboard like it would somehow steady the car.

He muttered something under his breath, barely audible over the rumbling engine. “Come on, you can’t always be good at something the first time.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound slipping out before you could stop it. “That’s funny, coming from the guy who bragged about knowing how to ride a bike perfectly on his first try.”

Jungkook groaned, but you caught the small smirk tugging at his lips. The memory was still fresh in your mind—him, cocky as ever, guiding you on his bike like he’d done it a thousand times before. It hadn’t been that long ago, but it felt like another lifetime. Like you’d known him forever.

Eventually, he got the hang of it, the jerky movements smoothing out as he focused on the road ahead. The city slowly faded behind you, the buildings growing smaller in the rearview mirror. You watched as the streets you once called home disappeared, replaced by the vast stretch of the highway leading to an uncertain future.

The silence between you was comfortable until Jungkook finally spoke. “I didn’t know you knew how to drive.”

You turned to him, watching the way his fingers clenched the steering wheel like it might slip from his grasp. “I don’t,” you admitted.

His brows furrowed, eyes flickering to you before snapping back to the road. “Then—”

“I just said whatever felt right,” you interrupted with a soft smile. “I needed you to calm down.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, but then he exhaled, a quiet chuckle leaving his lips. His grip loosened on the wheel, shoulders relaxing just enough for you to notice.

He glanced at you again, longer this time, eyes shining with something unreadable. Yeah, you were definitely the one for him.

Jungkook handed over the bills, leaning down slightly to speak to the woman behind the counter. “Two tickets for Jeju, please.” His voice was smooth but impatient, his fingers drumming lightly against the surface as he waited.

You stood beside him, eyes darting around, keeping a sharp watch over your bags. Every passerby felt like a potential threat, and you weren’t about to let anyone ruin this for you. This moment, this escape, was too precious.

The woman behind the counter took longer than expected. His lip ring—a telltale sign of his growing frustration. He turned to you, rolling his eyes dramatically, just as the woman finally slid the tickets toward him.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice dripping with exaggerated politeness as he raised his eyebrows at her.

You scoffed, shaking your head as the two of you stepped away from the counter, making your way toward the waiting area for the ferry.

“You’re such a brat,” you muttered, shoving the duffel bag into his arms.

Jungkook grinned, slinging the bag over his shoulder effortlessly. “Yeah, but you love me anyway.”

Your smile deepened, warmth creeping up your cheeks. The weight of his words settled comfortably in your chest—you love me anyway. And you did. You weren’t afraid to say it, not with him.

“I do,” you admitted softly, eyes dropping to your sneakers as if the confession made you shy.

But before you could revel in the moment, Jungkook suddenly gasped, his hands gripping your shoulders as he spun you around to face him.

His eyes were wide, excitement brimming in them, and his signature bunny smile stretched across his face. “Wait, I need to do something real quick. Wait for me, baby,” he said, breathless.

You barely had time to react before he turned and bolted back toward the port station, disappearing into the crowd.

“Jungkook—” you called after him, but he was already gone.

You sighed, shaking your head fondly as you clutched the strap of your bag.

You sat outside, waiting for the ferry, surrounded by strangers. The air was thick with the unfamiliarity of a new place, and though the sky was clear, a sense of unease settled in your chest. You hated being alone, especially here, where you knew no one and where Jungkook was nowhere in sight. You had been counting the minutes since he left, your fingers tapping anxiously against your knee.

It wasn’t just the waiting that unsettled you—it was the way people looked at you. Travelers passed by in pairs or groups, families keeping to themselves, couples holding hands. You were the odd one out, a girl sitting alone, and it didn’t go unnoticed.

One man, in particular, kept glancing at you. His gaze lingered too long, filled with something unreadable. Annoyance bubbled in your chest.

“What?” you snapped, your voice sharper than you intended.

The man chuckled, raising his hands in defense before bowing his head slightly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, stepping closer.

Now that he was near, you realized he wasn’t much older than you. His features were soft despite the way his boxy grin stretched across his face. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he added.

“You didn’t scare me,” you muttered, eyeing him as he casually took the seat beside you, uninvited. “You pissed me off.”

At that, he laughed, shaking his head. “Fair enough.”

You glanced at him warily, waiting for him to explain himself. He must have caught on because he exhaled, his voice turning more relaxed. “I just… I’m traveling alone for the first time, and honestly, I’m kind of terrified,” he admitted. “Then I saw you with your boyfriend earlier, and I thought—maybe I could say something instead of sitting there freaking out by myself.”

At least he was self-aware. And he wasn’t wrong—Jungkook was here before, but now he wasn’t. And that was the only thing on your mind. You shifted, glancing back toward the station.

“You waiting for him?” the boy asked, following your gaze. You hummed in response. “Where are you from?” he asked, clearly trying to keep the conversation going.

“Busan,” you replied absentmindedly, scanning the crowd for Jungkook’s familiar figure.

“Daegu,” he said, a bit more cheerfully than necessary. “Kim Taehyung, by the way.”

You turned to him, taking in the way his eyes crinkled as he smiled. He had an easygoing energy, one that might have been comforting if your mind weren’t occupied by worry.

“Nice to meet you, Kim Taehyung,” you murmured, offering him a small nod before returning your attention to the entrance.

He kept talking, something about Jeju and photography, but you weren’t really listening. Your thoughts were clouded with worst-case scenarios, your stomach twisting at the thought of something happening to Jungkook.

You decided that time would pass quicker if you kept talking to the stranger, and surprisingly, it worked. Kim Taehyung was easy to talk to, his words flowing effortlessly, filling the space where your nerves once thrived. He told you about how he had always dreamed of traveling alone but never thought he’d actually go through with it.

And for a moment, just a brief one, you let yourself relax.

Then, ten minutes later, Jungkook appeared.

Relief flooded through you the second you spotted him. He looked perfectly fine—not a single bruise, not a scratch, nothing to suggest he had been in trouble. The tight knot of anxiety in your stomach loosened.

But maybe you had let your guard down too soon.

Because the moment Jungkook reached you, he didn’t slow his pace—he stormed straight to the bench and shoved Taehyung off it with enough force to make him stumble and fall on his butt.

Your mouth fell open in shock.

Taehyung blinked up at Jungkook, looking more surprised than offended. He didn’t even attempt to fight back.

Jungkook, however, wasn’t even looking at him anymore. His dark, heated gaze was on you as he cupped your face in his hands, tilting your chin up to inspect you like he was searching for any sign of distress.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice tight with concern. “Did he hurt you?”

Before you could even respond, Taehyung scrambled to his feet, hands raised in defense. “Whoa, hold on, I—”

Jungkook barely spared him a glance before raising a hand, cutting him off mid-sentence. Taehyung clamped his mouth shut immediately.

Damn. That was hot.

You bit your lip, trying—and failing—not to giggle at the absurdity of it all. You knew Jungkook well enough by now to recognize his jealousy, but seeing Taehyung actually listen to him without a fight? That was just too funny.

At the sound of your laughter, Jungkook’s tense shoulders relaxed slightly, though he kept side-eyeing Taehyung like he still didn’t trust him.

Finally, he sat down next to you, claiming the spot without hesitation, effectively blocking Taehyung from getting too close again.

You turned to him, amused but still curious. “Where were you?”

Taehyung, still standing awkwardly beside the bench, let out a sigh. “Yeah, where were you?”

Jungkook shot him a glare. “I wasn’t asking you.”

Taehyung held up his hands again, taking a step back. “Got it. Not my business. Carry on.”

You chuckled, nudging Jungkook’s knee with yours. “Come on, what took you so long?”

Jungkook hesitated, his lips pressing into a firm line before he finally sighed. “I had to take care of something.”

Vague, as always. But judging by the way his fingers drummed against his thigh, you knew it wasn’t something he was ready to talk about yet.

That was okay. You had all the time in the world now.

Even if Jungkook still looked like he was two seconds away from shoving Taehyung into the ocean.

Taehyung scoffed, muttering something under his breath that Jungkook, of course, managed to catch.

“Mysterious boy,” he mused, barely suppressing a smirk.

Jungkook immediately turned his full attention to him, his body shifting so much that you were now left facing his back. You leaned slightly to the side, catching a glimpse of Taehyung, who was now standing a little straighter, as if preparing himself for whatever was coming next.

“Seriously, who the fuck even are you?” Jungkook asked, his voice dropping a little deeper than usual, the way it always did when he felt the need to assert dominance.

Taehyung, completely unfazed, tilted his head and replied, “Kim Taehyung. Twenty-two years old. Probably older than you, kid.” His voice, naturally deep, somehow sounded even richer now that he was deliberately trying to one-up Jungkook.

Jungkook puffed out his chest slightly, and you saw the exact moment realization hit him—Taehyung was older. But did that stop him from furrowing his brows and squaring his shoulders? Absolutely not.

Men and their pride. It was something else.

And yet, this time, instead of pissing you off, it just amused you.

What followed was an increasingly ridiculous exchange of skills and achievements, each trying to outdo the other. Jungkook boasted about knowing how to ride a bike, to which Taehyung scoffed and admitted he didn’t, but then immediately countered by bragging about how he could drive better—something you knew wasn’t true, considering Jungkook had just learned how to drive today.

They went back and forth like this for several minutes, listing anything and everything they thought made them superior.

Until, finally, you spotted the ferry in the distance.

“Come on, boys,” you interrupted, rolling your eyes as you slapped Jungkook’s thigh before standing up. You reached out, offering your hand to him.

Jungkook took it, standing up with ease, but not before shooting one last victorious look at Taehyung.

And then, just as he pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand, he smirked and said, “Oh, and I have a girl. You don’t.”

Taehyung groaned dramatically, throwing his head back.

“Seriously? That’s low, man.”

Jungkook just chuckled, leading you toward the entrance of the ferry, Taehyung following close to you.

Jungkook leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he muttered, “Seriously, don’t tell me he’s going to Jeju too?” His eyes flicked behind you, locking onto Taehyung, who was struggling miserably with his two oversized suitcases.

You nodded, suppressing a laugh as you turned back to glance at Taehyung just in time to see him wave enthusiastically at the two of you—only to realize too late that in doing so, he had let go of his luggage. One of the bags tumbled to the ground, nearly knocking over a poor elderly man walking past.

“He’s funny,” you remarked as you stepped inside the ferry, shaking your head.

Jungkook scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m definitely funnier,” he argued, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

You grinned, pressing a quick peck to his cheek before taking your seat by the window. The view outside was already breathtaking, and you couldn’t wait to watch the waves as you traveled.

Jungkook placed your bags in the overhead compartment before plopping down beside you, his hand instinctively finding yours.

Meanwhile, Taehyung stood near the aisle, glancing between his ticket and the numbered seats, trying to find his assigned spot. The second he realized where it was, his boxy grin reappeared.

“Oh hey, man,” he greeted Jungkook with a casual nod as he lifted his luggage into the compartment.

Jungkook, however, let out a deep, exhausted groan. “You must be fucking kidding me.”

Taehyung just chuckled, settling into the seat beside him.

Yeah. This was going to be a long, long trip.

Turns out, you were the one growing jealous.

Fourteen hours. Fourteen hours of endless talking, laughing, and debates about the most random things imaginable. You didn’t think there was a single moment when they stopped.

You had tried—really tried—to get Jungkook’s attention. A glance, a squeeze of his hand, even sighing dramatically in hopes he’d notice. But no. He was completely engrossed in whatever his apparently new best friend was saying.

By the time the ferry docked, your legs were sore from sitting too long, and your ears felt like they were bleeding from listening to their non-stop chatter. You stretched, relieved to finally be standing, but still a little annoyed as you glanced at Jungkook, waiting for him to acknowledge you.

Instead, he turned to you with that stupid bunny smile, eyes shining. “Fuck, he was so cool!” he gushed, squeezing your hand as if he hadn’t just ignored you for the entire trip.

You sighed, rolling your eyes, but you couldn’t help the way your heart softened at his excitement. He looked so happy. And honestly? You were glad. Jungkook had never really had close friends—at least, not ones who stuck around. He had always been wary of other men, always kept his distance, but here he was, grinning like a kid who just made his first friend at school.

Before you parted ways, Taehyung promised he’d see you both again, and Jungkook was practically bouncing with excitement.

And just like that, your irritation faded. Your legs still ached, but watching Jungkook so happy made it all worth it.

It was a great start.

But now, you needed to find somewhere to stay. Yet, it seemed Jungkook had other plans, as he led you toward the beach, ignoring your complaints about how exhausted you were and how badly you just wanted to sleep. Your feet ached from the long journey, but instead of stopping for a rest, he scooped you up onto his back without even asking.

“Seriously, Kook, how can you always be so full of energy?” you muttered, your cheek pressed against his back, arms wrapped loosely around his neck. His steady pace made you relax despite your protests, and as the sun began to dip low on the horizon, your eyelids grew heavy.

“I promise it’ll be worth it,” he said, his voice full of excitement, as if he couldn’t contain it.

You leaned into him, feeling his warmth, already too tired to fight. Eventually, he stopped, and you were gently set down on your feet. The soft sand beneath your toes made you want to just sink into it, the warmth of the earth soothing your exhausted muscles.

Jungkook stepped back slightly, his gaze fixed on the horizon, his eyes bright as he took in the scene. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice full of wonder.

It was beautiful. The sunset painted the sky with brilliant oranges and pinks, reflecting on the calm water. “I already love it here. I can’t wait to—Jungkook, what the fuck are you doing?” your words cut off when you saw him. Jungkook, on one knee.

Jungkook takes something out of his pocket, and for a moment, your heart sinks. You feared it was something that would force you to confront a commitment you weren’t ready for. But as he pulls out a box wrapped in the most elaborate gift paper you’ve ever seen, you feel a sudden wave of relief. It’s not what you feared. Not a ring, not anything to do with a life-changing decision.

It’s just a gift.

“I know it’s probably not what you were expecting—” Jungkook starts, his voice almost sheepish.

You quickly reassure him, “I’m not mad, I’m glad actually,” before he can finish, his words hanging in the air. He laughs, relieved that you understand, and you can see the weight lift off his shoulders.

“Now I know I’d look like an idiot if you were dumping my ass right there,” he says, feigning a pout. His voice softens, but there’s a nervousness there, the kind that reminds you that, despite his bravado, he’s just as vulnerable as anyone else.

Before the moment can slip away with the fading sun, Jungkook hands you the gift. His grin widens as he watches you take it. “That’s what took me so long at the station,” he explains, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “But now I’m glad I took my time because you met Taehyung and so I—”

“Are you seriously talking about Taehyung right now?” you cut him off with an exaggerated roll of your eyes, which makes him chuckle even more.

You take the gift from his hands, tearing away the decorative paper nonchalantly, wondering what could be so important that it kept him occupied for so long. Jungkook stands up beside you, his gaze fixed on your every move, clearly eager for your reaction. The grin on his face is wide, like a kid waiting for approval.

Your heart was racing, skipping a beat with every breath you took. Your mind was spinning, overwhelmed by the wave of emotions crashing over you, and your stomach tightened from the weight of the love you felt in this very moment.

In your hands was a Walkman.

Not the old blue one you used to have, but a brand new, bright yellow one. It was simple, unassuming, yet it held so much significance. You could feel the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as memories flooded your mind. This small object had been the catalyst, the bridge that had led you to him.

The very thing that once cut through the chaos of your home, drowning out the anger and the shouts, had now brought you closer to someone you never imagined you’d find. Jungkook. He had been the one to walk into your life, to make everything feel real in ways it never had before.

It felt impossible to hold back the tears now. You never could have known that something as simple as a Walkman could tie your story together in such an unexpected way.

“Jungkook,” you whispered, barely able to speak through the wave of emotions choking you. You reached for him, pulling him close, resting your head against his chest as the sobs racked your body.

Jungkook didn’t say anything at first. He just held you, his arms wrapping around you like a shield, offering all the comfort he could. You clung to him, feeling like you were finally where you belonged, and all the pain, the confusion, and the chaos that had once been your life seemed so distant now.

He smiled softly as he pulled out a second Walkman, this one in a bright, playful pink. “This one’s mine,” he said, his voice filled with pride. You couldn’t help but laugh at the bold choice of color, completely charmed by how unapologetic he was about it.

“Yeah, I know it’s pink,” he said, shrugging with a mischievous grin. “But I was like, fuck off with that masculinity nonsense.”

Your heart swelled at his words, at how truly authentic he was, and you pulled him tighter into your embrace, not caring about anything else in that moment. He was everything you had ever hoped for, and yet, he was so much more than that.

He was the very opposite of the men you had expected to encounter in your life—so different from anything you had ever known. He defied the norms, challenged what was supposed to be “normal,” and it was that exact freedom that made him so undeniably perfect for you.

“I love you so much,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion as you held him close, feeling his heartbeat against yours.

“I love you more,” he replied instantly, his lips brushing your hair as he kissed the top of your head gently. In that simple moment, the world outside didn’t matter.

It was just the two of you, a Walkman, and a love that felt like it could stretch across eternity.

The familiar hum of your white Daewoo Arcadia filled the quiet streets as you maneuvered smoothly through the neighborhood. It had been three months since you bought it—your first real purchase with your own hard-earned money. A small but powerful symbol of everything you had built.

Owning a record shop had started as a dream, a simple idea fueled by your love for music. But somehow, it had turned into something bigger. Walkmans were getting bigger, and suddenly, your little shop—specializing in cassette players and tapes—had become the talk of the city.

It still felt surreal.

You could remember the exact moment you found out that the shop space was for sale. The way your heart had pounded at the thought of actually owning something, building something. You had hesitated, scared of taking a risk, but Jungkook never once wavered.

Without a second thought, he had used nearly all the money your mother had given him to buy the place for you. He brushed off your worries when you told him it was too risky, too uncertain. Instead, he had looked at you with those unwavering eyes and simply said, “I trust you. I know you’ll make this into something great. Soon, you’ll be richer than you ever imagined.”

And he had been right.

You had done it—on your own. But never alone.

Jungkook had been there every step of the way. Supporting you, pushing you forward, believing in you even when you doubted yourself.

You pulled into the driveway, cutting the engine before stepping out. Your heels clicked softly against the pavement as you made your way to the front door.

Home.

When you arrived in Jeju three years ago, you had been scared as hell. You had no real plan, no certainty—just the weight of a fresh start pressing down on your shoulders. The first few months were spent hopping from one cheap motel to another, stretching every bit of money you had. And then you found the shop.

Back then, you barely believed in it. You hadn’t seen what Jungkook saw.

He had poured everything into it, every last bit of money, every ounce of faith. It left you both with almost nothing—certainly not enough to buy the house you had dreamed of. You had been frustrated, worried, but Jungkook never wavered. He promised it would all work out.

And a year later, it did.

By then, the shop was thriving, and you had saved enough to buy a home—not the biggest or the grandest, but something just right. Small enough to feel warm, cozy, like a real home rather than just a house. It was tucked away in a quiet corner of the island, where the sound of the waves could still reach you on windy nights.

Jungkook worked relentlessly to make it perfect. He never complained, never hesitated—just threw himself into every little task, every piece of furniture, every coat of paint. He listened to your every wish, making sure each room felt like you.

And in the end, it was everything you had both dreamed of. Maybe even more.

The loud chatter reached your ears before you even stepped inside.

“You don’t know shit, how can you give me advice on that—” You immediately recognized Jungkook’s voice, his tone laced with irritation.

“I’m older, so technically, I have more experience, and I’m telling you, you should do it like I—”

You sighed, shaking your head as you stepped into the kitchen, only to find Jungkook and Taehyung glaring at each other, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. It was always something with those two.

Taehyung had been a constant presence in your lives ever since your paths crossed again a year later. What was supposed to be a short trip for him turned into something permanent when he fell in love with Jeju’s quiet charm. He ended up settling in a house just a few blocks from yours, and from that point on, it was like he had always been there—third-wheeling your dates, crashing at your place just because, and most of all, getting under Jungkook’s skin for fun.

As soon as Jungkook spotted you, whatever argument he had been having was forgotten. He practically ran to you, wrapping you up in his arms and peppering your lips with quick, eager kisses, as if he hadn’t just seen you this morning.

Taehyung groaned in disgust, rolling his eyes as he reached for an apple on the counter. “God, get a room.”

Jungkook ignored him, tilting your chin up to press one last kiss against your mouth before flashing his signature smirk. “Missed you.”

You laughed, patting his chest. “I was gone for an hour.”

“An hour too long,” he shot back without hesitation.

Taehyung scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re so whipped, it’s embarrassing.”

Jungkook turned to glare at him. “Says the guy who’s single and giving me relationship advice?”

And just like that, the argument picked up where it left off.

You smiled to yourself, leaning against the counter as you listened to them bicker, warmth blooming in your chest. This—this chaotic, ridiculous, love-filled life—you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

You settled into the seat beside Taehyung, chewing on your apple as you tried to piece together their conversation. Your eyes flickered between the two boys, one sulking, the other smirking.

“Relationship advice? For what?” you asked, brows furrowing slightly.

Your relationship with Jungkook had been going perfectly, or so you thought. You never had any major fights, and despite the bickering he did with Taehyung, he always made time for you. But now, knowing he had asked for advice, you couldn’t help but feel a small pang of guilt. Maybe you had been too caught up with the shop, too distracted to notice if something was bothering him.

Taehyung sighed dramatically, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “Well, your boyfriend here—” he jabbed a finger into Jungkook’s chest, earning a glare, “—was telling me he wanted to take you out to dinner. Boring. So I suggested something better, something actually romantic—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence.

Jungkook slapped a hand over Taehyung’s mouth so fast the older boy choked on his words. “Shut the fuck up, Taehyung,” Jungkook hissed, his voice low in warning.

You raised a brow at your boyfriend, amused by his reaction. “Kook,” you teased, holding up your apple like it was a gavel. “Don’t threaten our guest.”

“Guest?” Jungkook scoffed, finally releasing Taehyung, who coughed dramatically like he had barely survived. “More like an impostor. He’s always here.”

“Because I live nearby,” Taehyung retorted, rubbing his throat as he glared at Jungkook. “It’s not my fault you treat me like your rival—”

“Because you are my rival,” Jungkook shot back, his expression dead serious.

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips was impossible to hide. No matter how much Jungkook complained about Taehyung or how dramatic their so-called rivalry was, you wouldn’t trade this for anything.

As Taehyung made his way to the door, he suddenly stopped, shaking his Samsung SH-770, the sleek, silver flip phone glinting under the kitchen light. The small external screen blinked with notifications as he wagged it in Jungkook’s direction with a smug grin.

“Don’t forget to check your phone, dumbass. You always ignore my texts, stupid Kook,” he teased, snapping the phone shut before walking out the door and heading to his house.

Jungkook scoffed, crossing his arms like a child. “I hate that thing. Since when can people reach me whenever they want? Especially when I’m at home—with you.”

He punctuated his words by pressing his lips to your neck, arms winding around your waist as he pulled you closer. His warmth, his scent—the familiarity of him—sent a shiver down your spine.

You chuckled, leaning into his touch. “It’s called convenience, Kook. Welcome to the future.”

“Inconvenience,” he corrected, mumbling against your skin before placing another kiss just below your ear. “Now, can we forget about Taehyung and his dumb phone? I finally have you all to myself.”

He was quick to bring you to your bedroom, his hands gentle yet eager as he undressed you with a tenderness that never failed to make your heart race. His lips followed the path of his fingers, pressing soft, lingering kisses to your skin like he was discovering you for the first time all over again.

It always felt like this with him—like love was something tangible, something you could feel in the way he touched you, in the way he looked at you as if you were the most precious thing he’d ever held. Every kiss, every caress was filled with devotion, with care, with an unspoken promise that he wasn’t going anywhere.

And neither were you.

Apparently, Jungkook had actually listened to Taehyung’s advice because he didn’t take you to dinner that night. Instead, he chose something far more meaningful.

He pulled out his bike—a new one he’d bought around the same time you got your car. He had refused to learn how to drive a car, claiming he hated it and that he looked cooler on a bike. You didn’t argue with him, not when he was pouting at you like that, his big brown eyes practically begging you to agree. And honestly, how could you resist him?

Now, as you sat behind him, arms wrapped securely around his waist, the wind rushing past your face, you couldn’t help but smile. It always felt like this when you rode with him—like freedom, like nostalgia, like love. It reminded you of that very first night together, the one that changed everything.

And just like that night, he was taking you up the mountain again.

He turns off the engine, and you hop off the bike, your excitement building as you run towards the edge of the mountain, drawn by the breathtaking view. The waves crashed against the rocks below, their rhythmic sound filling the air. You close your eyes for a moment, just taking it all in, feeling the cool breeze on your skin.

Before you can fully lose yourself in the moment, you feel Jungkook’s arms wrapping around you from behind, his chest pressing into your back as his face gently rests on your shoulder. You can feel his warmth, his steady breath against your neck, and it instantly makes you feel safe, loved, at peace.

“How was work?” he asks softly, his voice low and warm, like he genuinely wanted to know. He knew you were doing well, of course. But there was something about hearing it from you, hearing you talk about the things you were passionate about, that made him proud. He loved how independent you were, how hard you worked for everything you had.

“People kept coming in. I almost didn’t have time to breathe,” you admit with a small laugh, your hands moving to cover his where they rest on your stomach. Despite the chaos of running a busy store—stocking shelves, cleaning up between customers, offering advice to those who asked—you wouldn’t trade it for anything. You loved every second of it, especially because it was yours.

He presses a soft kiss to your neck, his lips lingering for a moment as you smile. “It’s great. I’m happy for you,” he says, his voice sincere and filled with pride.

You turn in his embrace to face him. “And you?” you ask, your brow furrowing slightly. You know his job had never been easy, and it’s something he’s struggled with.

It’s been a long road for Jungkook—always searching for something that felt right. He was good at everything he did, but he was never able to stick with anything for long. He got bored of the routine, tired of the monotony. He wanted something meaningful, something that made a difference.

When he told you he wanted to become a police officer, you couldn’t help but worry. His previous jobs had been risky, dangerous even, and the thought of him in a high-stakes profession like that made your heart ache.

But then he explained why. He wanted to help people, to protect the innocent, and to hold those who did wrong accountable. That’s when you realized that he was made for this. Yes, the job was dangerous, and it came with its own set of challenges, but he had such a strong sense of justice. He wanted to make things right in a world that often felt broken.

You remembered how he’d told you, the way his eyes had sparked when he spoke about it: “I want to teach the bad guys a lesson, but in the right way. I want to help, not hurt.” And you knew, without a doubt, that he was born for this.

You may have worried about his safety, but you understood his passion. His past mistakes didn’t define him. He was doing this now because he wanted to be the kind of man who helped fix things, not break them. And in your heart, you knew he’d make a difference in the world.

And when he came home, tired but fulfilled, he would always tell you about the cases. He’d recount the moments when he took charge, when he stood strong in the face of fear and danger. His voice would grow more confident, proud of what he had accomplished. And you couldn’t help but beam at him, your heart swelling in admiration for the man he had become.

It always tore at him when he was called to respond to abuse cases. Even as society slowly started changing, with women slowly carving their place, there were still men who thought they could get away with things that were unforgivable. Every time the call came in, he was the first to volunteer, ready to confront the situation head-on. He hated the idea of anyone suffering and every time he slapped the handcuffs on a man who thought he could get away with abuse, Jungkook felt a small, vindicating victory.

“One day,” he’d often say, a slight grimace forming on his face as he spoke of the cases, “I hope I never have to deal with something like this again.” But until then, he was determined to do his job, to right as many wrongs as he could, and you knew he found solace in that.

Because you knew what this meant to him. It wasn’t just about his job. It wasn’t just about righting wrongs. It was personal for him. Every case felt like he was saving someone, but to him, it always felt like he was saving his mother again, and again. Every time he stood up against the darkness, he was fighting back the ghosts of his past, protecting others from the same pain that had haunted him and his family. It was as if every victim he helped gave him a small piece of peace, a bit of redemption for everything he couldn’t do before.

You would hold him close after those days, your fingers threading through his hair as he rested his head on your chest. You’d whisper words of encouragement, telling him how proud you were of the man he had become. How proud you were that he had turned his pain into something good, something meaningful.

“Seokjin is such a pain, but I guess it’s fine,” Jungkook mutters, rolling his eyes at the mention of his superior. He talks about Seokjin a lot, mostly complaining about him. Jungkook has always had an issue with authority figures, but deep down, he respects the older man, even if he doesn’t always show it. It’s a complicated relationship, filled with tension, but there’s also a hint of admiration that Jungkook never quite admits out loud.

He pauses for a moment, his usual playful demeanor shifting into something more uncertain. His voice lowers, hesitant, and for the first time, he bites the inside of his cheek, clearly wrestling with the words he wants to say. “Hey,” he begins, voice barely above a whisper, his gaze searching yours for any sign of what you might be thinking. “What would you do… if I asked you to marry me right now?”

Your heart skips a beat, the question catching you completely off guard. Your eyes widen as you try to process his words, your mind racing to catch up with the sudden shift in the air. It’s so unexpected, so messy in its delivery, that you almost can’t believe it’s happening. Jungkook immediately curses under his breath, clearly regretting the rush of words that slipped out before he could think. His face flushes with embarrassment, realizing that he’s completely botched this moment he’s been planning for so long.

“Shit,” he mutters to himself, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been thinking about this for years, and I still mess it up.” He looks at you, the self-doubt written all over his face. “I don’t even know what I’m doing, I asked fucking Taehyung for advice, and now I look like an idiot.” He shakes his head, a mix of frustration and anxiety swirling in his chest. “I wouldn’t blame you if you walked away after seeing how badly I messed this up.”

You can see the vulnerability in him, the raw honesty behind his words. It’s unlike any side of him you’ve seen before, and it makes your heart ache a little. He wants this so badly, but his fear of failing, of looking foolish, is overwhelming him.

“Fuck, that was terrible,” he groans, running his hand down his face.

Before you can say anything, you look at him, still trying to process the question, and in a quiet, almost timid voice, you ask, “Jungkook, are you asking me to marry you, right now?”

He scoffs, clearly embarrassed, and rolls his eyes at himself. “What? No, of course not,” he says, laughing awkwardly, trying to deflect the awkwardness that’s settled between the two of you. “Me? A husband? Nah, that’s not me.” He forces a laugh, but it’s hollow, like he’s trying to convince both you and himself that he’s not serious. He pulls at the box of the ring in his pocket, fidgeting with it as if it could somehow distract him from the overwhelming nervousness building inside him.

“I would say yes,” you whisper, the words slipping from your lips before you can stop them. It’s true. You would. You would say yes to him, right now, in this messy, imperfect moment. No questions asked.

Jungkook’s words stop mid-sentence as he processes what you’ve just said. He freezes, his eyes widening in disbelief as he stares at you, trying to figure out if he really heard you correctly. His lips part, but no sound comes out at first. “What?” he breathes, barely able to believe what you just confessed.

You nod slowly, a soft smile curling on your lips. “I would say yes,” you repeat, your voice more confident this time, looking into his eyes with sincerity.

Jungkook’s face softens, his heart pounding in his chest. For a moment, he looks completely overwhelmed, as if he can’t quite grasp the enormity of what you’ve just told him. His hands tremble slightly as he reaches for you, pulling you into him, his arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. He buries his face in your hair, his breath shaky. “You’re serious?” he whispers into your ear, his voice raw with emotion.

You nod again, your heart full, a sense of peace settling over you. “I’m serious.”

Jungkook laughs softly, a mixture of disbelief and relief, holding you closer as if he’s afraid this moment might slip away. “I can’t believe this,” he murmurs, still in awe of how things turned out, how you felt the same way he did. “I’ve been so scared of messing it up, but you…” His voice trails off as he kisses the top of your head. “You would say yes?”

“I would say yes,” you repeat, and in that moment, everything feels right.

Jungkook kisses you again, his lips soft and warm, but you gently pull back, furrowing your brows. “I don’t want to sound like that kind of girl, but—” you start, laughing awkwardly as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t have the… ring?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen, and he gasps, cursing himself under his breath. “Shit,” he mutters, quickly fumbling around in his pocket. He pulls out the small box, face turning red with embarrassment for forgetting the one thing Taehyung had practically drilled into him not to forget. He hands you the box with a nonchalant shrug, but you can tell it’s not as casual as he’s pretending. His heart is doing somersaults, even if he’s trying to play it cool.

You hold the box in your hand, teasing him. “Aren’t you supposed to, like, get down on one knee, open it for me, and… you know?” you say with a playful grin. You’re being a bit mischievous, but he’s so cute when he’s flustered like this, and you can’t resist.

Jungkook’s eyes go wide, and before you can even blink, he snatches the box back from your hand. “Shit, of course I would!” he exclaims. In his rush to do things right, he drops down onto one knee so quickly that he ends up hurting his knee in the process. “Ah, fuck!” he winces, pulling his knee up with a grimace, inspecting it like it’s some kind of emergency. But despite the slight pain, he straightens up and finally settles into position, looking at you with a determined, slightly goofy expression on his face.

You can’t help but giggle, but you see how much this means to him. He’s nervous but so sincere. His eyes lock with yours as he takes a deep breath, preparing to speak the words that have been tumbling around in his mind for so long. The words Taehyung helped him practice now flow from his lips with surprising calmness.

“I want to give you this ring, not to make you mine, because you already are,” he begins, his voice steady but full of emotion. “But because I want to make you mine forever.” He pauses for a moment, the words hanging in the air, before adding, “And also because I love you so, so much, that I want you to remember it when you have a long day at work… just by looking at that… thing.” He shrugs his shoulders, trying to downplay it, but you can see how proud he is of himself. This was it—the moment he had been preparing for, and it was going better than he could have hoped.

Tears spring to your eyes as you listen to his words, your heart swelling with love. The smile on your face is wide and bright, but the tears start to fall freely, rolling down your cheeks, not out of sadness but pure happiness. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted, and more.

Jungkook grins, his heart soaring when he sees your reaction. His hands shake slightly as he holds out the ring, waiting for you to say something. You can see the joy in his eyes, the hope that this moment will seal your future together.

You wipe your tears, taking a shaky breath. “Yes,” you whisper, voice trembling with emotion. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Jungkook.”

Jungkook’s face lights up, his eyes wide with disbelief and joy. He’s finally done it, and everything feels perfect. You’re perfect. His heart beats faster as he slides the ring onto your finger, and for a moment, time stands still. In that moment, it’s just you two—your love, your promise, your forever.

You walked through the door that night, still floating on air from the day’s excitement, your heart light and full. As you changed into your pajamas, you caught sight of Jungkook sitting on the bed, his brows furrowed in concentration. His thumb hovered over the phone’s keyboard, his index finger tapping slowly as he tried to figure out how to text, clearly struggling with the unfamiliar technology. He cursed softly under his breath when things didn’t go as planned, a cute sign of his frustration.

You couldn’t help but smile, watching him. He was so good at everything, but new technology—especially when it came to phones—seemed to leave him stumped. You laughed softly before throwing yourself onto the bed beside him, propping yourself up on your elbows as you observed the scene.

“Who are you texting?” you asked, a curious smile tugging at your lips.

“Kim Taehyung,” he replied, a small smile finally breaking through as he seemed to succeed in sending the message. He eagerly turned the phone toward you, showing off the text he’d just written.

she said yes. jeon jungkook.

The sheer simplicity of the message made you burst out laughing, unable to help yourself. Ten minutes to type five words? He looked so proud of himself, but the way he’d typed out each letter so carefully and slowly made it all the more adorable.

“You know you don’t have to put your name at the end, right?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, still chuckling.

Jungkook let out a frustrated sigh, slumping his shoulders as he tossed the phone onto the bedside table. “I don’t know how this shit works,” he muttered. But then, in his usual way, his pout quickly turned into a grin, and before you knew it, he pulled you by the waist and sat you down on his lap, his arms wrapping around you with a sense of possessiveness and warmth.

You’re still giggling as you sit down on his lap, your hands resting on his shoulders as you look down at him, his cheeks flushed from the slight embarrassment. Jungkook’s not used to this whole texting thing, and it’s adorable how he struggles with it, especially for something as important as texting Taehyung.

He gives you a playful pout as you settle onto him, his arms wrapping around your waist. “You’re laughing at me, aren’t you?” he says, trying to suppress his own smile, but it’s hard to be mad at you when you’re so close.

You nod, still chuckling, but it’s in the most loving way possible. “I’m not laughing at you, Kook, I’m laughing because you’re so cute. I mean, it took you ten minutes to send five words. You could’ve just called him, you know?”

“I was trying to make it official,” he huffs, his arms tightening around you. “I wanted it to sound proper.”

You can’t help but shake your head, your fingers brushing through his hair as you settle more comfortably against him. “You’re adorable. Honestly, he’s gonna laugh when he sees your text.”

Jungkook groans and leans his forehead against your shoulder. “I’m just trying to keep up, okay? Everything is so much harder now. At least I used to just talk face to face.”

You smile softly, touching his chin to tilt his face up so you can look into his eyes. “I get it. But don’t worry about it. You’re already doing so much. I love you just the way you are.”

His eyes soften, his hand brushing against your back as he pulls you in closer. “I love you too,” he murmurs, his voice low and sincere. “More than anything.”

You look at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, and your heart skips a beat. You’ve always known he had a big heart, but moments like this, when he’s so vulnerable, make you realize just how lucky you are.

“Well, you don’t need to stress about tech stuff. You’ve got me,” you tease, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I’ll teach you, promise.”

Jungkook grins at that, the tension leaving his face as he leans in to kiss you back, slow and deep. “I’m glad I’ve got you,” he whispers against your lips, his hand gently cupping the back of your neck, holding you to him.

As the night settled in, the soft glow of the moon filtering through the windows, you felt an overwhelming sense of contentment. You knew that the world was changing around you—new technologies, new challenges, new adventures—but there was one thing you were sure of: no matter where life took you, you wanted to be with Jungkook through it all.

Your hands were trembling slightly, damp with nervous sweat. Your heart was racing, each beat louder than the last, and you found yourself fiddling with the bouquet in your hands, twisting the stems like a lifeline. Closing your eyes for a moment, you tried to breathe, but the anxiety just wouldn’t let up. When you opened your eyes again, you saw Taehyung glancing at you from the driver’s seat, his face a mixture of concern and amusement.

“Please don’t puke in my car,” he said, his voice laced with genuine worry as he shot you a quick glance.

You chuckled, but the sound was breathless. “Taehyung, I’m scared as fuck,” you admitted, shifting awkwardly in the car. You tried to adjust your dress, but it was hard, the fabric so wide and heavy, making movement feel impossible.

You couldn’t help but wish Jungkook was here. You missed the calm of his touch, his voice reassuring you that everything would be okay. He always knew how to steady you when your nerves got the best of you. Taehyung was great, but he wasn’t your fiancé.

“I’d be scared too,” Taehyung said, his voice lightening the mood. He shot you a teasing grin as his eyes returned to the road. “It’s not every day we get to see Jungkook dressed up in a fucking suit.”

The way he said it, the ridiculousness of the situation, made you finally break out into a laugh, albeit a shaky one. Taehyung really had a way of easing the tension, making the moment feel a little less overwhelming. You almost felt a little lighter, despite the nerves still bubbling in your stomach.

“Yeah,” you said, finally letting out a deep breath. “I’m definitely gonna need a drink after this.”

Taehyung chuckled. “Me too, but don’t go fainting before you get to see him in that suit. You’ve gotta give him a chance to impress you.”

“What if he hates the dress?” you asked, your voice trembling with doubt as you stared at your reflection in the side mirror. You had been so sure of it when you bought it, but now, with everything feeling so real, you couldn’t shake the uncertainty. You clutched the bouquet tighter, feeling the weight of the moment settling on your shoulders.

Taehyung, ever the reassuring presence, glanced at you with a comforting smile. He had been there through the entire process, giving his opinion and offering to help you choose the perfect dress. And honestly, you couldn’t imagine having anyone else by your side. Even if it did mean receiving some playful pouts from Jungkook lately, complaining that it seemed like you were always with Taehyung.

“You could show up dressed as a clown, and he would still marry you,” Taehyung had said, his voice light and teasing, and somehow it managed to stick with you, even now.

But the worry still crept up, lingering in the pit of your stomach. Today was the day. The day you would become his forever. And as you sat in the car, the familiar roads leading to the church where your life would change, you couldn’t help but feel the anxiety seeping in.

Taehyung’s lighthearted chatter continued, but you could barely hear it over the buzz of your nerves. Everything felt so surreal. Was this really happening?

Meanwhile, across town, Jungkook was in his own battle with the same anxiety, trying to fight the knot in his stomach. The nerves were almost unbearable, making him feel like he could barely breathe. He was pacing around the church, waiting for the moment to arrive.

His hands shook slightly as he straightened his suit, his own nerves threatening to overwhelm him. It didn’t matter that he had imagined this moment a thousand times, in a thousand different ways. This was real, and it was happening now. And the only thing that mattered was you walking through those doors.

“You got this, Kook,” he muttered to himself, trying to calm his nerves as he wiped his palms against his pants.

The drive felt endless, the air thick with the lingering heat of the summer sun, but the cool breeze that entered through the open window did wonders to calm your nerves. You let it whip your hair around, not caring that your carefully styled locks would likely be a mess by the time you arrived at the church.

There’s something liberating about summer. The way the wind moves through the air, cool against your skin, a welcome relief from the heat that lingers long after the sun begins to set. It feels almost alive, slipping through your fingers, tangling in your hair—never quite staying, never quite gone.

Everything seems to slow down, as if the world itself is taking a breath, suspended in the thick, hazy air. Time stretches, moments linger, and even people seem different—softer, freer, as if summer loosens something inside them. Maybe it’s the heat, or the endless nights, or the way the season blurs reality just enough to make anything feel possible.

The simple relief of knowing someone was waiting for you.

That Jungkook was waiting for you.

authors note: aaandd done! pls dont a hesitate to tell me what you think—id love to hear your thoughts! maybe you even imagined a different ending? tbh i had a hard time choosing between a bad ending or a happy one, but in the end… i just couldn’t bring myself to separate them ahaha

thanks a lot for being part of their journey and i you liked it ♡ byyyyeeee

[minteagalaxea]

hot . line (p. one) | jy. uso

jey uso . part one

genre: smut (minors dni) content warnings: phone sex . (unknown) mutual masturbation . daddy kink . afab reader (she/her pronouns) . dirty talk . sexposition (ish) word count: 2.29k inspiration: the concept of a glucose guardian/sucrose supplier . the accountants in the john wick series . the notion of parasocial relationships . songs: good to me by seventeen (slowed and reverb) (x) . light a flame by seventeen (slowed and reverb) (x) note: thank you to @lov3rla03 and @spiicii for endorsing my brand of nonsense. dialogue isn't generally my strong suit, but i wanted to try something new!

oh, she hated this. she really hated that she was resorting to this of all things.

her fingers clutched the business card lex gave her, a black card with dark red foiling to mark the name of the organization and the phone number. it felt like a death knell as she lied in her room, screwing her eyes shut one she dialed the number and she heard the line pick up, honestly anticipating a robotic voice on the end, or some type of attempt at sultriness.

yet, the voice, a low contralto hum, was soothing on the other end as they greeted, “welcome to the bloodline. how may i direct your call?”

she wasn’t sure how to answer, and her silence only served to embarrass her further as she stammered and rambled, “i-i’m sorry…this is my first time, and i just…my friend gave me the card, and i don’t know if this is a good id—”

the voice on the other end offered a soothing laugh to carefully interrupt her. “it’s alright, my dear. i should have asked first. would you like to know how this works? my name is quynh.”

her stomach felt less heavy, knowing she was at least speaking to a real person, and she mused an assent.

“initially, the gentlemen prefer phone interactions, just to have a feel for you and for the sake of discretion. they aren’t recorded or monitored. you’re certainly allowed to choose when you’d like, as many of our clients do, so please don’t feel pressured to stick to one if that goes against your preferences. later on, if you’d like in-person interactions, those can be arranged, but they generally reserve that for more routine clients. there’s no hard and fast rule as to how many phone conversations are required, that’s between you and him. we charge by session, and tips are not necessary, but certainly appreciated—i hope that’s alright.”

she blinked, hearing the basic ground rules, and she found herself questioning why she was thinking that this was going to be some casual hotline-escort service, given the hefty price tag that suggested a luxury clientele. though, she considered, money wasn’t hard to come by for her in her line of work. and lex provided glowing reviews, so she supposed that it couldn’t.

“umm…which gentlemen am i allowed to choose from?” she inquired with trepidation, and easily as ever, quynh answered.

“there’s roman: big dom kind of man, baritone-bass voice. unfortunately, he isn’t accepting new clients, but he’s here if you need to discuss any issues or concerns regarding the others regarding safety or consent,” they started, tone carrying an undertone of secrecy and intimacy that had the woman curious, but unwilling to prod the stranger more about this.

“then, there’s solo: stoic, but certainly intense. a preference for those wanting to indulge more…rough fantasies. bondage is a big thing of his.” she shivered, and quynh laughed soothingly, as if sensing her discomfort, “don’t worry, bun. he has his own niche, and i wouldn’t recommend him for you since you don’t seem like the rough kinda girl. we want to provide a positive experience for all of our clients, but especially our new ones.”

the woman sighed in relief, continuing her relative silence as quynh exhausted their voice just to provide her knowledge and comfort, “perhaps on the complete opposite end of the spectrum, we have sami. sweet, a bit shy, kind of a switch, can be a bit more submissive—or at least, lean towards it, though i like to equate him to a service top. gives very nice praise, too, and has an excitable charm. cheerful, and expressive even through the phone.” there was a fondness there, and she answered.

“maybe…not too soft?”

“well, i think the last of our two gentlemen might be up your alley,” the receptionist mused with a fond chortle, “jimmy and jey.”

just hearing their names had a wave of comfort washing over her, like a hug delivered by this person on the other line.

“jimmy’s the more adventurous one, with ideas as creative as his degrading. not quite as mean as solo can be, but he’s up there. the bad boy twin, if i had to term him. he’s got some cute pet names, so it tends to even out.

“but, i’d recommend you to jey—tends to be better with first-timers. he’s not like sami in that he’s all sweet…but if it helps, he does like calling his female subjects things like ‘mami’. he’s got a big flirtatious streak; big praise thing with him, too.”

that was all it took for her to settle on him with an assertive tone, though really, she had a suspicion that quynh was saving jey for last, and after a few rings on the line, there was a new voice on the other end of the line.

“how’re you doing, mamas?”

fuck. one greeting and she was already wet, and she already had to scamper to grab her vibrator from the drawer in her nightstand in the most feeble stride at composure, all her confidence flying entirely out of the proverbial window.

the attempt, however, was generally fruitless with her stammering, “h-hi…i’m uh, not sure h-how…to start all of this.”

she earned a chuckle on the line, sounding endeared by her green nature to this entire thing as he answered, “that’s alright, mami. we can take it nice and slow, work you up real nice. why don’t you tell me a bit about you, baby?”

“wh-what do you wanna know?”

“maybe what got a sweet little thing like you out here on a phone with a man like me?”

her breath hitched, and she wasn’t sure what to say as she admitted, “i work a high-profile job…and i think i need someone to help me get the edge off. maybe i’m too pent up? work has been so busy.”

“yeah, mamas? need me to help you cum and sleep well tonight?”

shit, just the suggestion of that, the lick of his voice was already making her lose her mind, but she assented as she surreptitiously turned on the bullet, “y-yes, please.”

the man on the other end chuckled, “well, aren’t you a good girl for me, baby, using all your manners? gonna give you a reward if you behave like that for me."

ut, his voice took a sharper, biting edge subsequently. “or perhaps not, because i didn’t say you could touch yourself, did i?”

a chill ran down her spine, gasping as she realized that he did manage to hear the buzz of her very discreet, reportedly near silent vibrator. “i’m sorry, daddy…just wanted to take the edge off.” and holy shit, she didn’t expect herself to call him that.

“well, mamas, you better behave, or daddy won’t let you do any of those things.” his voice was teasing, but she hadn’t realized that calling him “daddy” would make his breath hitch in the way that elevated her reality that he’s just as turned on as her, no matter how fictitious it was from. perhaps it was that that made her more comfortable to play along, his voice and reactions spurring her on to indulge her fantasies a bit.

“i’m sorry, daddy. i promise i’ll behave now.”

“that’s right, mami. now, why don’t you tell me what you’re wearing?”

she wasn’t sure how to broach this one, but she tried her best as she spread her legs and reclined into her satin pillows, “nothing…just a big sweater, that’s all.”

that boded positively for her, she presumed, given the groan jey elicited as she heard a rustle of fabric on his end, “nothing underneath? naughty girl.

“but, i can’t blame you, mamas. you sound so stressed…no wonder you need your toy. so stressed your fingers won’t do it for you, huh? needa think about something bigger than your pretty little fingers?” he continued, just slightly more conversational with that heady undertone.

“yeah, daddy. wanna think about your fingers if i’m so lucky,” she admitted bashfully, surprising herself with her boldness as she got more comfortable. quynh was right—she would end up liking him.

jey’s choked groan on the other line brought prickles along her every nerve as he chuckled in approval in an attempt to regain some semblance of composure, “shit, mami, you can. you can put that vibrator and think about how daddy's fingers should be in your pretty cunt instead of some toy.”

she obeyed—how could she not when he sounded like sin and virtue in equal measure, and she pressed the bullet on her clit, letting it whir there as she tried to pay him some attention, too, as she settled into the rhythm of their dialogue. “are you thinking about me, daddy, about what i could do for you right now?”

“fuck, of course i am, mamas. thinking about the pretty words coming out of your prettier mouth.” there was a certain cadence there; she wasn’t sure how much of it was authentically him, given the line of work, but she wouldn’t push as she plunged the bullet inside of her.

jey’s groans and growls and the shifting on the line had her curiosity growing about if he was actually stroking herself as they both enabled each other’s pleasure, stoked the heat in their bodies. “daddy, wish it was your fingers right now,” she crooned in between her gasps of bliss, dragging her vibrator to a higher intensity, “i know it’d feel so much better.”

“shit, babygirl, keep talking like that, and i’m gonna wish it was your mouth on my dick instead with how sweet you’re being to me.”

“oh, daddy, i’d take care of you so well.” her voice began veering into a sense of dreaminess, loosened as she plunged her toy in and out of her depths to seek some relief, “won’t you let me help you? promise i’d take you all the way down and won’t gag.”

“i’m gonna hold you to that, mami. you’d look like a fucking masterpiece with your mouth full of dick. or with that pussy full of my dick, too,” he grunted, breathing labored over the phone as something rocked, perhaps the bed, perhaps an audio recording. she couldn’t care right now, determined to chase after that elusive release, “turn that shit up, baby, and fuck yourself faster.”

her moans filled the line as she did exactly as jey requested, pushing her damn bullet to the limits in ways she had never pushed it to the maximum setting. yet, here she was, her sounds louder and reverberating through the phone and overpowering the whir of the toy’s motor.

“fuck, daddy, wish it was your fingers—wish you could stretch me out all nice and wide and pretty for you,” she mewled, thrusting her vibrator in and envisioning it was a pair of thicker, more human digits instead, “my fingers won’t cut it. need you.”

jey’s grunting reached a fever pitch as he elicited a groan, something long and hypnotic as he said, “i know you need me, mamas. touch your clit, i’m gonna get you there.” she heard the frenetic rustle of the sheets on his line, haphazard like the bounce of his mattress while her free hand circled her neglected, now extremely sensitive pearl.

her voice took on a pleading, sultry tone as she begged in her wake, “daddy, come for me, you know you want to. you’d feel so good, so much better.” or, at least, it would assuage her ego assuming he was jerking off. she indulged the fantasy.

“i know, mamas. want you to come with me, can you manage that?’

she could, partially because holy fucking shit did he sound somehow even sexier. the fact that he asked dragged her to the edge with just a single question had her seeing stars, her moans nearly drowning out what she could hear on his end as his own sounds—a cacophony of grunts, groans and gravelly filth—prolonged that monstrous high that she had her still rubbing her clit and drenching her sheets for. she could only hope he was in a similar predicament.

in the moments of respite, to recompose, she heard jey’s breathless, effusive voice inquire, “how was that for your first time doing this, mamas?”

her laugh emerged choked, mind almost reeling from the gravel of dominance earlier to his current ease, “good. better than expected, actually. i, umm, hope you enjoyed it, too.”

“i definitely did, mami, don’t you worry.”

“and…” she started, deciding to impulsively blurt it outright before she lost her nerve, “could i…could we possibly do this again? this was…really nice, and i didn’t know i needed it.”

his warm, hearty chuckle was enough to balm her nerves, her worries. she wasn’t even sure why she was worried. technically, she was paying for his time—there weren’t meant to be strings. “of course. i’ll let quynh know for ya. let you get some rest.”

her own heart warmed at the consideration, and she swiped to send him the payment, with an exceedingly generous tip that significantly amplified the already-exorbitant (yet, justified) charge; she could only envision the look on his face, seeing the slightly cheeky note she added: for making me cum so hard, daddy ♡ - mami.

jey’s laugh sounded like heaven and hell, all incredulous and mirthful as he said, “same time next week, mamas?”

her lips wrapped around her chosen farewell like a promise as she responded, “looking forward to it, daddy.” and the call ended.

as far as she was concerned, he didn’t make a mess of his bed like her, a consummate professional through and through.

and if he did? well…that was his secret, not hers.

[taabee]

Jealous little fish

Pair: Rafayel x Y/N reader

Warning: none, fem!reader, rafayel being cute and jealous, fluff stuff

If rafayel was regretting anything, it was the goldfish he had given you 3 months ago, as a gift to celebrate your move to his home. You had finally moved in with him, but if he could throw those fish down the toilet he would. But he couldn't, why?…because you wouldn't stop looking at them, taking care of them and even talking beautifully to them. ' You just talk nice to him' thought Rafayel, when Thomas tapped him on the shoulder and brought him out of his trance.

“Sir, we have to go now, or else we won't make it in time for the exhibition,” says Thomas. Rafayel was invited to an event, which he didn't want to go - . But he had to do it…somehow he had to generate money. “Yes I know…just give me 10 minutes” says rafayel, watching as thomas walks away and heads for the exit of the home. He approaches you, who was looking at her pets with great care and amazement. “baby?” rafayel speaks softly, trying to control his irritation. “mhhh?” you reply without taking your eyes off the fish. Rafayel takes a deep breath. “I'm going now…see you in a few hours” he says a little annoyed. You look at him, with a smile and move in for a kiss. But he turns his face away. For a moment, you were going to argue. But by his pout, and by the expression on his face. You can tell he's doing one of his tantrums. You stand a little on your toes, and give him a quick kiss on his cheeks. “Ok, enjoy yourself a lot, here I wait for you!!!” you speak, turning all your attention to your new pets.

Rafayel turns away quickly, even more annoyed. You didn't even ask him how he was, and why he refused your goodbye kiss. You simply ignored him. And if there was one thing Rafayel hated most, it was being ignored. He got into the car, where Thomas was waiting for him. And slamming the door very hard, “Start!” rafayel orders. Thomas says nothing, but laughs to himself. Rafayel was having a toddler tantrum right now. “When we leave the event, we'll buy a giant bowl of chlorine,” rafayel says. Crossing his hands and looking out.

The event ran smoothly, good business was done. But he kept looking at his phone all night. He was still waiting for you to text or call him.

Arriving home, Rafayel said goodbye to Thomas, telling him to go home and rest. Entering through the door, he saw that the lights were off. A few candles gave a quiet atmosphere. And only the light of the fish tank was the strongest. Giving a beautiful reflection, and something aquatic to the walls of his home. He had to admit that it reminded him of his old home…but there you were. Feeding your fish, as you turned to greet him.

“Hi love!!!” you run up to him, to wrap your arms around his neck. This time he wasn't going to deny you a kiss. Rafayel kissed you back, and moved his arms around your waist hugging you tightly over his body. “I missed you” he says softly, you can feel the weight of his head fall on your shoulder. “mmm you poor thing, you must be tired… but could you get more clients?” you ask, looking at rafayel for a moment, he had a tired smile on his face. “I have 12 clients…12 paintings to do” rafayel speaks, I feel you hug him.” Congratulations!” you snuggle more into his chest, both of you staying there for a moment.

“How about I set up the tub, and we take a long, relaxing bubble bath?” rafayel says, noticing how your eyes light up with joy. Both you and he needed to relax. “Perfect, go get everything ready…I'll go get something” you say, turning away from Rafayel, running towards his room. Rafayel chuckled a little, you didn't know what you were up to, but it was going to flow. Taking a quick glance at the fish tank, seeing how the fish were looking at him. “If you guys think you're competition for me…you're wrong” Rafayel speaks, as he begins to fill the tub. A tub that was in his own living room, a living room that was in his studio. Rafayel's house was complicated but beautiful.

“She will spend more time with you, but she prefers me,” touching the water to make sure it was good. Taking off his clothes, he laid them on the floor. “I'm going to cook you…and then” Rafayel hadn't noticed but you had already arrived in the room. You could see how he was arguing with the fish, and you didn't know how to react. “Rafa…” you speak, seeing how he looks at you with wide eyes. “Oh, my love…look, the tub is ready” Rafayel signals with his hands for you to join him. You shake your head slightly, ignoring what just happened.

Getting close to the bathtub. “Look…I bought these patches to reduce swelling. They're shaped like kitty whiskers” you show him the package, you were sitting on the edge of the tub. Rafayel makes a face, “I'm not going to use those” he says, while you pinch his nose a little. “Sure you are…they are good for you” you speak, as you get up to start removing your clothes. Rafayel adjusts a little, leaning back now on the edge of the tub. Enjoying the view. You may have lived just recently, but two years of relationship was more than enough for there to be that intimacy and trust that Rafayel so craved. He loved seeing you confident in front of him.

You take off your shirt, then your pants…and then proceed to take off your underwear. You glance at rafayel from time to time, he has a lovely look on his face…as if your whole being is a work of art, and he is just admiring it. “You are so beautiful” rafayel says in a low voice. “mmm do you think so?” you ask, as you step into the tub. Rafayel helps you a little, taking your hand. So that you can settle close to him. “Of course I do…every part of you, is a work of art” Rafayel comes closer to give you a soft kiss on the lips. “And so are you” you reply, nuzzling your nose with his. “Well…which one do you want?” you show him the packages, and rafayel has no choice but to accept. “I like this one,” he says, watching as you excitedly open the package.

About 20 minutes have passed, and you were lying on rafayel's lap, while playing with his hair, making him kitty ears with the help of the bubbles. While he simply enjoyed your attention. “You would make a very grumpy and scary kitty” you tease. “Ahh yes?” rafayel pulls you closer to him, tickling you a little. You both giggle in the process. The moment is interrupted when you hear a tapping of glass. You can see Rafayel pull away from you a little, and look back at the fish tank with a pout.

You laugh to yourself, but it was loud enough for Rafayel to hear. “Why are you laughing?” he asks, somewhat annoyed. “Are you jealous of …. some fish?” you look at him for a moment, you can notice how his cheeks turned red, and his face started to make that grimace he always did when he was on the edge of a tantrum. “No…how do you think!!!” he yells a little, letting go of you to cross his arms. He looked so adorable, fussing with his little kitty ears made out of bubble. You wanted to shower him with kisses. “Are you sure?” you tease him a little.

“Well��yeah, so what's up? Lately you're just looking at them, saying how cute they are and blah blah blah blah” rafayel explodes. You put your hand to your mouth, in order to control your laughter. “Don't laugh” complains rafayel, he was getting embarrassed by his behavior, but it was something he couldn't control. “Why do you think I would trade my great little merman for some fish?” you joke, moving closer to rafayel, so that your body lies fully on top of him. Wrapping your arms around his neck. Very close to his face, only to give him a soft kiss on his chin. “ They…ahhhh” he was frustrated.

You are silent for a moment, and trying to understand this sudden jealousy. He wasn't like that with other things…but with sea creatures. Rafayel felt that fish were competition for him…. you couldn't believe it. “They get all your attention, I just…I want your attention to be only for me,” Rafayel says, looking you in the eye. “Did I tell you that your eyes are beautiful?” you say suddenly. Seeing how rafayel's face breaks into a smile. “yes…about a thousand times” he laughs a little. As he hugs you closer. “I'm a fool, aren't I?” rafayel asks you.

“Yes, you are my dumbest little fish” you move in for a kiss, but rafayel stops you. Holding your chin with his hand. “Do you promise to love me forever?” he asks, you can see that look. One you had seen many times since you got together, always of fear and worry. “ Until eternity….even if you become a fish” you joke, and watch as he laughs. Catching your lips.

The fish stayed and the fish tank stayed in the same place….until eternity.

[neptuneiris]

Cruel Summer (04/10)

Under the Moon

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader

summary: dreams and frustrations are shared, leading to a strange and unexpected but enjoyable connection with Aemond and more moments together at the pier.

words: 11k

previous part • next part • series masterlist

hi everyone and I'm sorry for the wait! 🥺 I couldn't write this chapter, it took me a long time because it was difficult for me to develop certain scenes until finally I could finish it and I really hope you like it! 🙏🏻

remember that every comment and reblog is more than appreciated, thank you so much for reading beautiful people and enjoy the chapter!

warnings: none in this chapter.

The night is still young.

The sunlight has disappeared just a few minutes ago, letting the night sky in with the stars and the beautiful moon adorning the deep ocean with it's shimmering lights.

The smell of the salty air invades your lungs with every breath and the breeze gently hits your face, while the sound of the waves crashing against the shore is the only thing you can hear between you and Aemond.

Normally you don't usually come at such an early hour to the pier but... you couldn't help it. And meeting him here too at this hour was something you didn't think would happen.

Yet here you both are.

You feel the tension emanating from his body. You notice how he is completely rigid and takes several drags on his cigarette without giving them much time in between.

You don't know what has happened to him and that's why you asked him if he was sure he wanted you to stay. And even though he told you that you can stay, it doesn't mean that you should ask him what's going on with him... right?

You don't want to intrude and you don't want to make him feel more upset than he probably is. You're curious, in fact, you've been curious since the first time the two of you were here together.

Because you keep asking yourself; what kind of problems could he have? A Crown's guy?

Even though he has already told you that everything doesn't seem as perfect as it looks, you still find it hard to believe that. And you don't understand it because of all the people living at Crown's and specifically him they have no problems with money and never lack anything.

So you wonder what it could be and what it is that has him so stressed and upset.

That's not the only thing that invades your mind though. There's also the fact that the two of you exchanged glances at the party last night and he saw you mixing with the people on his side of town.

You have no idea what he's going to say to you about that. You don't even know if you're going to talk about it in the first place or if he wants to talk about anything in general.

So for the moment the only sound between the two of you is the sound of the waves.

Neither he nor you attempt to speak. You consider talking first as you watch him out of the corner of your eye but decide against it when you see him so serious and so lost in thought, staring off into the horizon.

And if that's what he wants now, peace and quiet just like you, you're not going to ruin it.

So you take a seat at the end of the pier as you kick off your sandals and slip your feet into the water, relaxing at the contact and more so with the view before you; starry sky and the moon reflecting in the deep ocean.

"So Stark is your friend."

He speaks suddenly, mixing the sound of his voice with the sound of the ocean and the atmosphere you both find yourselves in.

And him saying that gets your attention completely and you turn your body slightly to watch him while you're still sitting.

"Yes."

You reply, though nerves betray you, since after all... it seems that the two of you will indeed talk about that topic.

And as you watch him, again he has that look... indescribable.

You hate not knowing what he must be thinking, but he seems to be evaluating your answer. And you don't know if what he's going to say next will be an accusation or simple curiosity, so you decide to clarify that topic.

"My friend Chase works for his family," you begin to explain in a soft voice, "They both met and became friends, so one night Chase took him to a small reunion that my other friends and I were having at the beach on our side of town."

You say, remembering those moments.

"At first we all thought it would be temporary, after all... he's a rich guy from Crown's and his family is just as well known as yours, so we didn't think he would start hanging out with us."

You let out a slight sigh, looking out to where the ocean has no end.

"But it turns out he's simpler than he looks and... well... he likes to relax, hang out and be with a group of friends where nothing is demanded of him," you say, remembering his words, "With us he doesn't have to pretend or maintain the facade that most people at Crown's have to maintain."

You clear your throat, lowering your gaze for a moment.

"Or that's what he said."

You finish explaining and he doesn't say anything and honestly that starts to bother you.

You can tell he's a person who analyzes and evaluates people as well as words before he speaks, taking all the time necessary. But that's not a bad thing, what makes you desperate is that you don't know what he's probably thinking.

He has a way of doing things so... subtly and nonchalantly.

Then he turns his body towards you and leans his back against one of the wooden posts supporting the roof of the pier, having you completely on his radar of vision with the cigarette between his long, pale fingers.

He watches you with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat and again, inevitably, you feel nervous.

"That explains it, then," he says softly, "Why you can so easily walk into Crown's and move among us."

You have to stifle a bitter laugh, since of course he thinks you're trying to pretend to be as one of them and that sounds totally ridiculous, even to you.

"It's not like I'm trying to pretend to be like one of you."

You say with a sincere tone, watching him seriously.

"Neither my cousin nor my friends or I do that. We're not from Crown's."

He tilts his head.

"Oh no?" he says in a soft but slightly expectant tone, "Then what were you all doing at the party last night if Cregan doesn't like being with his own kind?"

"The guys and I ask Cregan to get us in because sometimes they're the only way out of the everyday," you explain, "Those parties make us forget for a while who we really are and enjoy things we don't have access to, like... an escape. But it's not our life," you shake your head, "We don't belong there and we don't pretend we do, we just... want to have fun."

He listens to you and evaluates you silently, again, looking for some sign that disproves what you claim. But there is nothing, nor is there anything else to say, because it's the truth.

"But last night..." he begins to say, "I saw you and you seemed fine... and fitting right in. Even better than others."

This catches your attention and you tilt your head to the side, genuinely surprised and interested.

"You also seemed fine where you were and... with her... y-your girlfriend."

Your last words come out with difficulty, stumbling between your lips before you could stop them.

'Okay, now why did you decide to say that?'

You ask, or rather reproach yourself. But it's not like you can turn back time, he's already heard you and you... you don't know what to say to save or excuse your words.

But then you notice a change in him.

A subtle change passes over his face, almost imperceptible. He stirs for a second where he stands and throws the little that is left of his cigarette.

You notice again the tension in his body and for a moment, his gaze fixed on the horizon, hard and expressionless, shows a shadow of doubt that he does not want to show. However, the silence between you two fills with a slight awkwardness and a tension that you don't understand.

He tries not to let down that impenetrable wall around him, but it seems your words have made a crack and you bring that annoyance back to him.

'Maybe you shouldn't have mentioned his girlfriend?'

You're about to apologize but he speaks first.

"You know her?" he asks in a low, almost distant tone, still not watching you.

"The mean girl?" you ask without thinking but instantly regret it and panic invades your entire system, "Oh no, no, no, I mean... sorry. I-I didn't—

"It's okay," he interrupts you, with a disinterested calm that bewilders you.

This also gets your attention and confuses you but you already feel embarrassed enough because clearly you shouldn't refer to the girlfriend that way in front of her boyfriend, so... you try to think before you speak.

"I mean..." you clear your throat, "Floris Baratheon? Sure. Well, her whole family."

You try to lighten the mood.

"Although my cousin and I ran into her and her friends yesterday morning on the pier," you start to say, "Your sister was with them too, but... she wasn't present when she started making fun of us for not having money, being poor and all," you list with boredom, already being very common.

That especially gets his attention and for the first time in all the time the two of you have been here together, he glares at you with furrowed brows.

"She made fun of you?"

He asks you with a seriousness that instantly makes you feel nervous and intimidated. And of course, he's not going to believe you, she's his girlfriend.

"Well... n-no, I mean... surely she acts differently with you," you start to say nervously and without finding the right words to express yourself, "Surely she must be very kind and nice... but... with you and her people, you know what I mean?"

He looks at you confused, not understanding, narrowing his eye at you and you can't find a way not to make his girlfriend look bad.

"It's just that..." you get frustrated, shaking your head, "Look... huh... she's your girlfriend and I don't want you to think that what I'm telling you are lies, so—

"I don't think that," he interrupts you, this time with an honesty that takes you by surprise. "I believe you."

You look at him uncertain.

"Really?"

He doesn't respond, just nods his head as he turns around and rests both arms on the wooden railing. He runs a hand over his face and in the process, messes up his silver hair, letting a few strands fall messily over his forehead.

"I've heard stories," he says then, without looking at you, "Apparently... she finds it funny to make fun of those who aren't of her own status... like other people I know."

He says with some bitterness.

"But when she's with me or my family... she acts completely different. And it's a little hard to believe when my mother or father hears those rumors but....

He shakes his head in disdain.

"Cregan is right, it's all appearance. It always is."

You remain silent, letting his words echo in the air.

The revelation about Floris stuns you, not because you wouldn't have guessed it, but because he, being her boyfriend and close to her, acknowledges it with such bitterness.

And there is something in his words and in his posture, which makes you realize that he is no stranger to such falsehood and you wonder... maybe he thinks just like Cregan and is caught up in appearances and perfection, just like him?

Still, you remain genuinely confused, with a question you can't help but ask him.

"But... don't you love her?"

The little laugh he lets out catches your attention and you see him shake his head, as if the idea is something absurd and impossible to be, which leaves you more confused.

"It's not what it seems. Our relationship... it's not genuine."

You frown and look at him blankly, feeling foolish for not doing so but... you really don't understand.

"What do you mean?"

He doesn't say anything to you, just lets out a low sigh and bites the inside of his cheek, knowing perfectly well that he can't talk to you about it because it might be a bad idea.

He doesn't know you, you don't know him and these are... delicate, important issues that should be kept in the family.

It doesn't matter if are issues that consume him and suffocate him, he has to bear it and deal with it because that's the way things are in his family, and period, there's nothing he can do or say about it.

And you notice that. The hesitation and the distrust, because both you and he understand that he shouldn't trust you, a poor girl from Black Waves, with anything.

But you know when a person is drowning.

You see it in the look and the way they move. You saw it in Cregan when he first joined the group, all your friends saw it and Aemond... you can see that the surface is about to overtake him.

And yet he has to put up with that, for whatever he owes his family and you understand that. You are no one to force or try to convince him to talk to you.

"I understand that you don't want to talk about it with me."

You begin to tell him in a soft tone.

"And I also know that I'm no one to make you share your ideas or concerns with me because I wouldn't understand. Even right now I have a hard time understanding that someone like you, who has everything, would have problems, you know?"

You tell him with a small incredulous smile and a wry look.

"But that's just my ignorance because I really don't know anything," you say in acceptance, "And... I really hope you find that person you can talk to and get it off your chest," you tell him in the most honest way possible.

Then, again, it's as if something inside him changes but this time... it breaks.

You notice that subtle change, in how his shoulders that always seem tense, as if carrying the weight of the whole world, drop a little and his breathing becomes heavier and slower.

And you don't know it but something in him is falling apart, the moment you told him that you find it hard to understand that he, who has everything, has problems.

But that is the image that his family has always reflected. That is the image that his father has put on him and all his children for all people to see. A perfect family, him being the perfect, flawless son.

And it's so much weight, the reality and your words, that he finally reacts.

"My whole life is an obligation."

He speaks with a hardness in his voice, not watching you and you watch him intently at the moment he begins to speak.

"For as long as I can remember, my whole life has been planned, with no say or decision for me. Because my decisions were never mine, they are my father's and my mother's who is always supporting him, trying to find the good side in everything," he says bitterly, "The two of them deciding between my hobbies, my friendship's, my relationship's, my studies and my future, no matter what I want or what I feel."

You are surprised by the harshness and ease with which he speaks, not yet looking at you, but finally expressing himself and venting, letting out all that he has been enduring and must endure.

"And Floris is that... a decision I didn't make or I want to make," he says seriously, "It... it was never... never a matter of love, the two of us..." he sighs, "The two of us are nothing more than a convenience. A piece on my father's board."

You part your lips and watch him confused but with realization, trying to see if what you're hearing is what you think it is.

"He, my grandfather and his entire team are always looking for alliances and partnerships for the company. Ways to strengthen our connections with other families that are advantageous and Floris... is that."

He motions with his hand and still with the bitterness is all over his face.

"Is that link between his father and mine through me, as if I... have no judgment of my own and even if I do, that doesn't matter to him because I must do what he asks me to do with family in mind, because that's the only justification."

And then... he starts talking without stopping, expressing himself fully while you just stand there, silent, watching and just listening.

"Just as I must study a fucking degree I don't want and don't like," he onfesses, "But I must do it to keep the company someday because Aegon will never do it, my father is already angry enough at him, Helaena won't do it either, Daeron is still young and someone must do it, then that someone must be me."

H points to himself harshly and bitterly, anger in his voice.

"But I do it so the fucking fights in my house don't happen anymore and so my father doesn't end up hating us completely."

He takes a breath and puts on a bitter smile, looking up at the sky for a second, shaking his head.

"But it's not even worth it, you know?" he tells you in a lower, calmer tone, "That's the worst of it, my dad... he's not worth it," he shakes his head, "I don't owe him shit."

He runs a hand through his hair again, as he stares out at the ocean and bites his lower lip with anger coursing through his veins.

"He didn't even notice me since I was a kid until I told him I was going to study business to take over the company. And yet, I have to put up with it for my mother and my siblings... because I don't want my family to explode."

Silence falls between you again, but this time it's not awkward or tense.

His confession leaves you stunned, because you definitely didn't expect to hear any of this. Not even about his father and his family. And he's... still tense, with his jaw clenched and his gaze furrowed in anger.

It's like he's blowing smoke out of his body, from all that resentment and all that anger not only at his father, but also at himself, at the crushing expectations that have haunted him his whole life.

But, in some strange way, he finds himself with one less weight on his shoulders for finally venting.

And you can't believe it.

Maybe you've been so ignorant and you've seen so many movies and read so many love stories that you think... if you're with someone in a relationship, especially people your age, it's because you must both love each other.

And that's what you thought of him and Floris, two rich parents' children who have a bright future together. But now, everything you had assumed about them falls apart.

And how come you didn't see it coming?

You mean, all of them, all these men are rich and they reinforce that power with richer people with their alliances, whether it's of any kind, but the point is to relate to people who are equally or more wealthy and to keep them.

And now that Aemond has entrusted you with this, it makes sense.

And you can't be blamed for not having thought about it before, summer has barely begun, you're enjoying it, you're also working and certainly these ideas don't cross your mind when you're poor and have nothing to do with this world.

So you finish processing everything he has said in silence, realizing that he has shared more with you than he has probably shared with anyone in a long time.

You realize how important this moment is, even if you don't know exactly what to say.

Then Aemond reacts again and finally looks at you, letting out a long sigh as he closes his eye and runs a hand over his face again.

"I spoke too much," he says in a low tone.

And then you react too.

"No, no," you quickly say, "I-I..." you lick your lips, having no idea if what you'll say is good or bad, because you really don't know what to say, "I'm relieved you got it off your chest with me."

He shakes his head as he places a hand on his chin, looking off into the horizon.

"That's not even half of what's going on."

You press your lips together, getting an idea of what it might be about now that he's told you about it. And you let out a long sigh, still processing it and keeping in mind that he should let it all out.

"So it's all about your father and his business," you say softly.

And he nods, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder. And you notice the mixture of weariness and disdain he finally shows on his face now that he's told you about the situation he's trapped in.

"My father has worked for years to secure his empire and his legacy," he says with a certain heavy tone, "And by partnering with Borros Baratheon, he strengthens and elevates his entire business."

He explains briefly.

"For him, this is an opportunity he cannot pass up and my relationship with Floris will make that partnership happen."

'Of course.'

You think with obviousness and bitterness reflecting on your face, as you briefly shake your head.

You're not even Floris but you just can't help but put yourself in her shoes, even though you don't like her and consider her a horrible person.

But if you were her.... you really wouldn't want to be in a relationship like that. Much less a relationship where all the time you are showing off in front of people when the harsh reality is otherwise.

"And does she know?" you ask quietly and cautiously, "Floris?"

To your surprise, he nods. And you don't know if that makes it all worse.

"She must have an idea about it," he replies in a more distant tone, "Maybe she doesn't quite admit it, but... no one can be so blind as not to notice."

You feel a knot form in your chest and can't help but watch him with a mixture of pity and understanding.

And he looks back at you for a second, so you try to keep a neutral face instantly, and then he continues talking with a frustrated look on his face, venting.

"And somehow, she thinks that can change. That she can try to make us both have something real, but..." he shakes his head, his tone turning sour, "From the beginning I didn't want to do any of this. It wasn't my decision because she doesn't interest me in that way."

He confesses and you listen to him with full attention.

"And it feels bad... it feels bad to see her trying to change that knowing the reality of things. And then I feel guilty..." he points to himself, "For not being able to reciprocate her feelings when I see her trying to do something that's not going to work."

And once again, you can't help but feel bad for Floris as the silence falls again between the two of you.

You remain silent, because you absorb his words. As these same words hang in the air, but at the same time, you feel that something important has been shared.

He sighs, as if the breeze could carry some of his burden away and the sound of the ocean enveloping him could protect him. He has let his guard down.

He has shown a part of himself that he probably won't show anyone else.

And while you don't fully understand what he's going through, you understand his words and how everything is defined by duty and by the expectations others have of him.

And in some ways, that hurts you for him. And those expectations and the weight of duty are too strong to go away so easily.

"And you haven't tried to...like .... really give her a chance?"

He shakes his head again.

"It's hard when the people around you let you know the real person she is," he says in a distant tone.

You let out a long breath, looking away from him for a moment, and then with smooth, nonchalant movements, you pull your feet out of the water, shake them off and stand up from where you are sitting.

You're not sure what you're doing, but you decide to approach him, even if it's just a little to make him feel that he's not alone.

Even so, you do it calmly and without very aggressive movements, since you don't want to scare him or make him feel that you are invading his space. And you place yourself next to him, also leaning on the wooden railing just like him.

You glance sideways at him for a moment before turning your gaze back to the horizon.

"And what do you really want?" you ask softly and with genuine curiosity.

He turns his head slightly towards you and notices your closeness, which, fortunately and surprisingly, doesn't scare him, since strangely, your presence... doesn't seem uncomfortable nor does it bother him.

Maybe it is the way you are listening to him, really listening to him and offering him a space where he can express himself without being judged, without expectations and without objections, that makes him not back down, stay and open up, even a little, for the first time in a long time.

But your question, makes that doubt appear on his face again for a moment, turning his gaze forward, feeling a little insecure behind his firm and controlled facade.

It's been a long time since he's been asked that question. In fact... he's never been asked it. And he doesn't know how to answer it.

"It's not about what I really want, Y/N. It's about what's expected of me."

You shake your head.

"But that's not fair, Aemond."

"In my life rarely anything is."

"But then what do you really want?" you ask again, your tone insistent and firmer, "Forget about your father and your whole family for a second," you say, "What I'm asking you right now, here, with no one around, just you and me... what do you really want in your life, Aemond?"

Your words float in the air and the silence that follows is deep, almost palpable.

You watch as he closes his eye for a moment, as if searching deep within himself for an answer he has buried beneath layers of other people's expectations. And when he wants to say something, he opens his mouth, but then stops, hesitant, unsure.

Yet he has the answer.

Until he lets out a sigh and for the first time looks directly at you, his expression softer, almost vulnerable, but not completely, just... a sincere expression.

And as if he's preparing to say something he hadn't allowed himself to say out loud before.

"I want to go to medical school in Oldtown," he finally says quietly but with a firmness he hadn't had before, "That's what I really want."

And you can't help but place a small but soft smile in his direction, relieved that he's finally talking it out.

"I've always been interested in it. I've always wanted... to do something meaningful, something that really matters. Not just for me, but for other people."

He admits, his tone vulnerable but determined.

"But...I've never told anyone, much less my dad. Because I know he'll never care and probably just laugh about it."

He pauses for a moment, as his mind seems to wander between memories and frustrations built up over the years.

"I don't want to do anything he tells me," he continues, his jaw tense. "I don't want to be with Floris. She... I don't know, she deserves someone else," he says with a shrug, "And I just... I want peace and freedom to be myself."

He confesses.

"I want to be able to choose my own path and live without feeling like I'm letting everyone around me down, that..." he sighs, "That's all I want."

You feel the strength and longing in his words. You're so engrossed in listening to him and watching him that you barely notice that the two of you are getting closer and closer.

And you don't really know him, clearly for obvious reasons, but you know that this Aemond Targaryen right now is different. He is not the man who always seems to be in control of everything.

No, the Aemond in front of you is someone who just wants to be free.

He looks back at you and you see that silent wish that he wants so badly to come true. And he may not tell you directly, but in that moment he realizes that this is what he has been looking for, unconsciously, someone who will listen to him, understand him, and stand by his side without judgment.

"And I know it sounds stupid," he mutters, averting his gaze, "It's impossible. But... yeah, that's what I want."

You press your lips together.

"Don't say that. It's not stupid," you assure him in a soft tone, "It's your dreams. Your true aspirations. And no one has any right to take that away from you. Not even your father."

The silence that follows your words is soft but heavy at the same time. You both stand still, absorbing the weight of the words you have just spoken.

You because you understand that no one should make less of your feelings or thoughts and Aemond because no one had really said those words to him before.

But also, he feels the tension in his shoulders return and he suddenly feels so vulnerable and exposed, something he's not at all used to and all because he trusted you with something intimate about him and his family.

He shifts slightly where he stands, uncomfortable, and you notice this, how his expression gradually closes, slowly turning back to his usual hard, impenetrable mask.

Then you understand that perhaps he is worried that you have seen his weakness, something no one else has seen. But what he's shared with you doesn't make you feel a kind of power over him now, at all.

So you decide to do something genuine too: share with him.

You take a deep breath, not because you're hesitating, but because talking about your past always brings a slight pressure to your chest, but you really want to do it.

"You know..." you begin in a soft tone, "I understand what it's like to have a dream... something you love deeply and want to achieve, even if circumstances aren't always on your side."

Aemond turns to you, his blue-gray eye catching your gaze.

"I've always wanted to study Literature," you confess with a small smile, "Writing, reading... I've always been passionate about it. And while I know it may seem impractical to many, my mom always supported me. She believed in me and believed that one day I could work in a big publishing house and maybe, even publish something of my own."

A small nostalgic smile forms on your lips as you look out over the ocean and remember those conversations you had with her, those days talking about books, characters and imaginary worlds.

Then you turn your gaze back to him and realize that he is actually listening to you, watching you intently, which gives you courage to continue.

"My dad couldn't make it to that stage of my life," you add later and bite your lips for a few moments, "He died when I was little from cancer."

You are surprised at yourself, as you have never been able to say those words before. And if you did, you would burst into tears, but in this moment... surprisingly you don't break down.

"He was everything to us and when he left... well, everything changed and things got a little difficult," you continue, "My mom did everything she could until we moved here because she could no longer maintain us in Nevada and my aunt and uncle took us in."

You pause for breath, feeling the emotion building up in your throat, but you manage to remain calm. And Aemond continues to listen to you attentively, without interrupting and with his posture again relaxed.

"Until a year ago, my mom also became ill with lung disease," you continue finally, watching the horizon, "We all did everything we could but she also passed away."

You are silent for a moment, feeling the weight of your words in the air.

You think about how you hadn't talked about this with many people, and you certainly didn't think you would with someone like Aemond. But now, here, with him listening to you in the same way you listened to him, you feel that maybe it was something you needed to share.

He doesn't say anything at first, but you see the slight gleam of compassion in his eye.

"I'm so sorry," he murmurs sincerely.

You take a deep breath and nod, though you try not to let the sadness wash over you completely. You don't want the moment to become too dark.

"I'm fine," you reply softly, "Despite everything that's happened, I haven't stopped wanting to study Literature or work hard to achieve that someday."

You look up at him, finding his attention fixed on you.

"And you can do the same, Aemond," you add softly. "I know it's not easy. I know your situation is... complicated and that your father is... a dick," you joke a little, though it's the truth, "But there's always a way out. You may not see it now, but it exists. You just have to find it and you have to fight for it."

Aemond watches you silently for a moment, processing what you just said. His eyes soften slightly and you look at him with a warm, reassuring gaze, assuring him of your words.

Then, you feel as if something changes between you two.

Both have shared something important, something that has allowed them to understand each other better and to unburden themselves in their own way. And you both stand there, thoughtful, looking at the horizon with the sea wind blowing softly.

You feel a little less weight on your shoulders. And maybe, just maybe, Aemond feels the same way too.

"Thank you for listening to me," he says, in a soft murmur, watching you, "I really appreciate it."

A small smile settles on your lips and you watch him with all the sincerity in your eyes.

"I know we don't know each other but you don't have to face all this alone," you say then nod in his direction, "So I'll be here if you need me."

And you both stand there, sharing a moment of peace that neither of you had anticipated, just like the first time you both met on this pier.

A rich guy from Crown's and a poor girl from Black Waves, neither you nor he would have imagined it, but here you are... it's a reality and a relief at the same time.

And the feeling of regret doesn't come at any time.

You assume you've both already let out what you wanted, so after you both stay in that comforting silence for a few more moments, and then you watch the time on your screen and let out a long breath.

"I don't want to get emotional..." you start to say, breaking the silence, "But you do know that we both have to go back to our respective worlds and pretend we don't know each other, right?"

He can't help but smile a little, understanding exactly what you mean and can't help but feel a slight twinge of disappointment, as do you.

"Yeah, I'm aware," he tells you softly, watching you.

You observe him with a resigned look, without erasing the small smile on your lips.

"Here," you point to his pocket with your gaze, "I'll give you my number."

That gets his attention and he turns to stand before you, reaching into his pocket.

"Are you sure?"

"Are you?" you joke, smiling, "Come on, it's no big deal."

He takes it, unlocks it in a quick gesture and holds it out to you, to which you take it and... you don't know what to do for a moment.

Sure enough, it's an IPhone, the kind of phone that only rich people like him can afford because of it's high price. While you look at it and feel sorry for your old phone of a different model and that the touch is barely functional due to the time you've had it.

"Whatever you need, within my possibilities..." you say as you add yourself to his contacts, "Or if you need to talk, about anything, just text or call me."

You extend it back to him and watch him, as he's already watching you and picks up his phone, putting it back in his pocket, having no idea what to say for a moment.

"Okay," he murmurs, his voice low but clear.

You nod again, saying nothing more, with reality starting to get to you. So you clear your throat softly and let out a sigh.

"Well, I... I should be going now," you say, "I have to work early tomorrow."

Aemond's expression changes for an instant, not expecting you to leave so soon. And he straightens up completely, pulling his arms away from the railing.

"I can drive you home," he offers suddenly, not even him thinking before he speaks, but wanting to.

And that takes you by surprise for a moment, but then you shake your head.

"No, no, that's okay," you reply, "Thanks but I don't want to bother you."

He frowns.

"It's no bother," he insists more gently, "I can drive you, really."

You look out over the horizon for a moment, feeling the cool ocean air caress your face. And you really appreciate the offer but he needs to stay here.

After all he shared with you, he needs to still feel this peace and quiet of the place.

“No, thank you, you…” you try not to look rude, ”You need to stay here. You need it,” you tell him, "It will do you good, trust me," you assure him, ‘I'll see you another time."

You wave goodbye as you turn away, with a slight smile.

"Take care."

He watches you as you walk away, your soft but firm footsteps echoing lightly against the wood. The feeling of this summer night envelops you both, but both of you also feel this sense of something incomplete but meaningful between the two of you.

You think that for the first time, you realize that Aemond Targaryen, even where he comes from, all that he has and all that he will have in the future, he is not so different from you.

And he doesn't tell you that, in fact he hadn't thought or felt it before but now, as you slowly disappear from his sight, he realizes he is glad that you appeared on the pier almost at the same time as he did.

“Remind me why we have to do this.”

Alysanne's annoyed and upset voice makes you watch her and you smile in amusement as you watch her struggle with the buttons on her work shirt.

“Because we need the money to help your parents,” you say, brushing back your hair, “We also need to be able to buy our own things and also because we need to save up to go to college.”

These are valid enough reasons for both of you, but you both can't help but complain.

“I hate Mr. Frey, I hate him so much,” she mumbles.

“Think about the money, Aly.”

“That doesn't make me hate him any less. I haven't even been able to enjoy the summer like I'd really like to.”

Well, that's true, this summer has started out different and not how you both planned, but there's nothing you can do about it.

“And speaking of that…” she again says, “There's a party tonight. At Sunsets Pier. I think the Stark's and the Arryn's set it all up or something like that Cregan said but the point is, everyone can go.”

“Ugh, no,” you quickly say, making a face, “I've been to enough parties in such a short time.”

“What are you talking about!” she exclaims to you incredulously, ”There will be free food and drinks, live music and lamp shows or something.”

“They do the lamp show almost all the time,” you remind her without emotion.

“But everything else is free!”

You let out a long breath.

“I'm not in the mood to go. Especially not when I have to endure Mr. Frey most of the day and we only get one day off from him and his exploitative job.”

“Ugh, you're so boring,” she scowls at you as she watches you through the mirror and finishes fixing her shirt.

You make sure your keys, wallet and phone are in your small bag, then stare at the screen.

“Okay, time to go or we'll be late,” you let her know.

She lets out a whimper.

“I don't want to work anymore,” she whines like a little girl.

A few minutes later, you both arrive at the restaurant on time and immediately get to work, with Mr. Frey's eyes watching your every move like a killer gargoyle ready to jump at the slightest mistake.

And both you and Alysanne do the same as always.

Take the order, bring the food, clear tables as soon as they are empty, reorganize, clean up again, bring the customers anything they ask for in case they are missing, be available to them at all times and in some cases charge them.

And while you do everything automatically, totally used to it after a while, in the middle of it all you can't help but get lost in your thoughts and think about him.

It makes sense when it hasn't even been twenty-four hours, but… you really can't help it and you can't get him out of your mind. The way he talked to you about his frustrations, shared with you his dreams, his longings and the way he paid attention to you too… his look, his eyes… it all invades your mind.

And foolishly, you can't help but wonder if he's thinking about it too… about you. Although you just wish you weren't the only one feeling this way.

You also wonder when you'll see him again, but the thought of imagining it, thrills you, makes your heart race and makes you realize you want that to happen soon, which you never imagined such a feeling you could feel for Aemond Targaryen himself, of all people.

But then the restaurant gets more crowded as the evening goes on and you have to be more attentive and active.

You and Alysanne move back and forth, keeping busy with everything you have to do, even with Mr. Frey making sure neither of you slows down for a second, being so annoying.

And then, as you're finishing clearing a table, the sound of the doors of the place opening makes you watch the new customers almost automatically and your question of when you'll see Aemond again is answered in that instant.

Your heart stops for a second and you see him, entering the restaurant, joined by his family, the Targaryens.

You immediately recognize Alicent Hightower from all the magazine covers where she has appeared with her husband, always so elegant and majestic.

And where Mr. Frey, upon seeing her, attends to her himself with all the kindness and cordiality possible, allowing her to enter his restaurant as if she were the most important person in the whole world.

Next to her, you identify Helaena, which is not impossible because of her delicate and beautiful appearance, besides her silver hair, of course. With them also comes the youngest of the siblings, Daeron.

And at the end is him.

With his firm posture and the same serious, impenetrable look as always, he scans the whole place without much importance, when his gaze meets yours.

You again feel your heart skip a beat and trying to look busy, you instantly avert your gaze, pretending to be busy with something at the cash register.

You try to focus, but now that he has also seen you and now knows where exactly you work, it causes a wave of nerves to wash over you and your hands begin to tremble slightly, especially since you feel his gaze on you.

Luckily, they choose a table on the terrace, with a view of the sea, so the only thing that separates you are the large windows and the glass doors, although he can easily see you through them and you can easily see him too.

And it's a strange feeling to have him there, so close, in the same space, but behaving as if you don't know him.

Fortunately, it's Mr. Frey himself who takes their order and then it's Alysanne's turn to bring them the food, so you breathe a sigh of relief and stop feeling a little tense.

Time goes by and you can't help it, while you do your job, you watch his family and him out of the corner of your eye.

Mrs. Alicent has such a natural and perfect elegance and demeanor, looking even kind. Helaena seems more oblivious to everything, but you also notice that she is very close to her mother. While Daeron is more carefree and Aemond… he doesn't talk much but he looks more relaxed.

Even watching him here in the restaurant, he also maintains that hard-to-read expression.

What he shared with you last night is still fresh in your mind and you can't help but wonder how he is able to maintain that facade under constant family pressure.

You finish delivering the food to one of the tables that is, not close to his but not too far away either and then, out of inertia, you go back to watching him and he is already watching you.

Nervous, but with a blank stare, you look away again.

You both act as if you don't know each other, as if last night on the pier never happened. And though it hurts a little, you know it's the right thing to do.

Here, in the crowd and in front of everyone's eyes, especially those of his family, there's no room for that connection the two of you had last night.

Then minutes pass, then an hour and they're gone.

It makes no difference though, as you continue to work, keeping busy and distracted. Alysanne in a few small breaks tries to convince you to go to the party at the pier but you continue to refuse, as apparently the customers are also talking about that.

But you don't have the courage or the energy to be among a lot of people.

Finally, after the long hours have passed, both of you finish your shift and it's time to go home.

Clearly neither of you are allowed to use your phones during your shift, so when you hold it in your hands and turn on the screen, the first thing you see is a message from an unknown number.

But you instantly recognize who it is and a silly little smile appears on your lips as you read the message: Tonight?

You see the time and realize that he sent it to you at the time when he was at the restaurant, so you quickly reply without thinking: I'll be there.

You knew that if you told Alysanne that you were going to the pier now not so forbidden, she would kill you.

First she would start complaining and demanding you to know why you want to go to the pier and not to the party with her.

And you don't want to tell her yet about everything that's been happening with Aemond because even you don't know.

So you preferred to save yourself the nagging and all the questions, you also wait for her to leave and once she does, you also leave the house.

So now once again you have successfully managed to jump over the wall and you head towards the pier, where in the distance you can see the figure of Aemond at the end, with the smoke of his typical cigarette floating around him, looking towards the horizon.

Once again you can't help but start to feel excited and a little nervous, having no idea what the two of you will be talking about tonight, but you assume he just wants some company and honestly you want that too.

So feeling more confident, you start to walk onto the pier, with all the anticipation and excitement coursing through your body, unable to help the small smile on your lips.

"Hey, stranger."

You speak when he's a few feet away from you and he turns, incorporating his whole body to watch you and when he does, a confused little smile appears on his lips.

"Stranger?"

"Yeah, you know, because we have to pretend in front of everyone that we don't know each other," you say with an amused smile, positioning yourself next to him, "I brought marshmallows," you raise the bag in your hands.

He throws his cigarette away, frowning.

"Marshmallows?"

"Yeah, I... I don't know, I thought if you want, we can go to the beach and have a bonfire and eat these," you suggest, "But only if you want," you hasten to add.

Aemond stays quiet, watching your face and then the bag of marshmallows in your hands, watching as you have a slight hope that he'll say yes.

And it makes him feel a little weird since he's never done that before. Not even with Helaena.

But... that you planned this when he was the one who asked you to come without having any plans in mind other than the two of you sitting here and watch the ocean, it surprises him because as simple as the idea is, it's something out of the ordinary for him.

And because of that, it's why he doesn't reject the plan and nods in your direction.

"Let's do it."

You both walk back to the beach, where you don't stray far from the pier actually, and he leads you to a section where his family has firewood, so you both start carrying it to the shore to make the bonfire.

And actually, for a few moments, neither of you talk about anything. It's just both of you being in each other's company, not at all awkward and not at all weird.

Then you look further out, specifically in the direction of Sunset's Pier. It's not like this upscale section of Crown's is too far from the downtown pier, as you can see the decorative lights and people moving around from here.

"You know about the party going on right now at Sunset's Pier?" you decide to ask Aemond, as the two of you finish stacking all the firewood at the specific spot.

He shakes his hands and squats down as you take a seat on a trunk, then look out at the pier and all those people in the distance.

"Yeah," he replies in a soft tone, "My brother was trying to convince me all day to go with him and his friends," he says and then pulls out his lighter.

"My cousin too," you say, watching as he begins to light a section on fire, then watching him slightly confused, "Why didn't you want to go with him?"

He seems to think about it for a moment as the fire begins to spread all over the kindling, then looks at you with a soft gaze.

"I wanted to come here."

You watch him back for a few seconds without saying anything, and then he turns his gaze back to the fire, while you have the bag of marshmallows ready to open it in your lap.

“And you, why didn't you want to go with your cousin?” he decides to ask you too.

“Hum…” you shake your head as you take the sticks to roast the marshmallows and start preparing them, “I didn't feel like it. Besides… working at the restaurant already sucks enough energy out of me.”

Oh no.

You didn't want to talk about what happened at the restaurant and yet you brought up the subject. Mostly because you feel embarrassed and you don't even know why.

And he lets out a slight sound, a small nod of understanding as he watches the fire, his gaze getting lost in the flames.

“That was weird, huh?”

You watch him without saying anything for a few seconds, frowning slightly at him and thinking about it, since you don't know exactly what he's referring to, but he speaks again.

“Pretending not to know you,” he explains and your gaze softens, ”It was weird after last night.”

You look away from him for a moment as the wind gently blows your hair and the breeze hits your whole face.

“Yeah,” you admit, ‘It was a little weird,’ you say as you hold out his stick with the marshmallow, ”I didn't think you'd show up there, to be honest.”

He takes the stick and gets up to take a seat next to you on the trunk once the bonfire is finally fully lit.

“I didn't think you'd work there either,” he says and along with you, places the marshmallow on the fire, "I even wanted to say hi to you but…" he shrugs as you listen carefully, ”I don't know, maybe it would have been weird or something.”

You nod, as you both wait for the marshmallow to be ready.

“Yeah, I get it.”

The bonfire crackles, with the sound of the ocean enveloping you, and you both stand for a moment in silence, enjoying the marshmallows and the simple company of each other.

You enjoy his company and he enjoys yours, especially since with you he doesn't have to talk about anything specific. And everything is just quieter and simpler… just the way he prefers it.

So you both stay there, in this quiet corner by the seashore, it couldn't be more perfect and necessary, with the distant and barely audible echo of the music and the party on the pier.

When he breaks the silence again, watching you curiously.

“What's it like working at the restaurant?”

“Oh,” you think about it for a moment, not expecting that question but having no problem answering, "Well, do you want the short version or the long version?" you joke.

He shrugs, a small smile on his lips.

“Either is fine.”

“It's just that let's just say that if it weren't for the need to save and buy my own things, I would have quit a long time ago.”

You explain, making yourself comfortable and he listens attentively beside you.

“My boss, Mr. Frey is… hum…” you also think about it for a moment, “Well, there's no other way to put it but he's a dick. I have to put up with his poor treatment without complaining and watch as he always makes sure everyone knows he's in control.”

“He seems like a nice guy,” he says wryly and you smile.

“Yes, he is, believe me,” you reply sarcastically, “But you know… sometimes there's no choice but to bear it out of necessity.”

You know…

Aemond blinks and your words are left bouncing around in his mind.

No. The truth is, he doesn't. He's never had the need to work.Because while you face the demands of a despot boss, he lives in a world of privilege and comfort, used to people doing everything for him.

But somehow he understands what you mean. The two may have different lifestyles but you both understand each other.

You both watch the flames in silence, in a comfortable silence, broken only by the crackle of the fire and the sound of the waves, just as the mingled smell of burnt marshmallows reaches your nostrils along with the salty air.

And then, suddenly, you have an idea.

You put on a small smile and that spark of spontaneity appears in your whole being, as well as that impulse, so you stand up and Aemond next to you looks at you curiously.

“Shall we go for a swim?” you ask casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world in the middle of the night.

“What?” he looks at you clearly bewildered.

“Come on,” you insist, giving him a playful smile, “Let's go swimming.”

He shakes his head, looking out at the ocean a few feet away from the two of you to look back at you.

“You want to go swimming right now in the ocean at night?”

“Yeah,” you shrug, ”I've done it before.”

“Don't you know how dangerous that is?”

“Oh come on, it's not a big deal and we won't go far,” you try to convince him.

“These are the only clothes I have,” he points to himself.

“Me too,” you say with a laugh as you start to take off your tennis shoes, determined, “Just leave them here, come on, it'll be fun.”

He looks at you as if you've just lost your mind, doubtful, but there's something about your enthusiasm that's contagious, something that invites him to leave his inhibitions behind.

And when he least expects it, you're already heading for the shore, stripping off your clothes. Then he finally sighs and stands up, taking off his shirt.

You laugh excitedly as he joins in and you leave your clothes on the sand, stepping into the ocean. The water is cold at first contact, but not too much. So you jump in in one motion, only to turn around and look at Aemond.

“Come on!” you encourage him.

“This is a bad idea!” he tells you from where he stands, stepping in with slow, cautious movements.

You laugh and encourage him again, moving your arms and hands, letting the salty water envelop you completely.

Then, as he sees you, slowly that wariness inside him fades and with more liberal movements, he moves to your side and you begin to splash him, laughing, causing him to let go and stop thinking for a moment.

He starts splashing you too and then you realize that it is such an out of place moment and so unlike anything you had imagined you could do with him, but at the same time it feels so natural and almost liberating.

And Aemond, he lets himself be carried by the waves, because even though the darkness of the ocean can be intimidating, he feels a kind of peace that he didn't expect to find here.

“See?” you observe him with a small smile, ”It's liberating.”

He floats on the water, gazing for a moment out beyond the ocean and then the Sunset's pier in the distance with a soft, thoughtful look.

“Yeah,” he says as if in a whisper, acknowledging that.

You hang suspended in the water, watching him for a moment, unable to help yourself.

The moonlight bathes his face, highlighting his features and his slightly damp silver hair. You also see how the muscles in his shoulders relax with each breath and the sensation of the water, also looking at his bare chest and his skin glowing from the light and the water, giving him a crystalline and totally captivating effect.

The silver chain he wears around his bare neck also catches your attention, shimmering slightly with every movement.

His eyes, his lips, his nose, his look…. in all of him there is something primal and irresistible that makes you can't stop looking at him and your thoughts begin to dissipate uncontrollably.

Then he looks back at you and you try to look unaffected, as if you don't have a lump in your throat and this feeling in your stomach, smiling softly in his direction and then looking around, trying to control your thoughts.

'He has a girlfriend, remember?'

Your mind tells you too.

'It's not a real relationship, though.'

Okay, maybe it was a bad idea to convince him to swim when the man looks like this.

He tells you to swim some more and you both let the salty water envelop your bodies, with the full, bright moon above, illuminating the surface and creating a silvery path stretching to the horizon.

You also watch the stars, twinkling above you both, creating a celestial spectacle.

The water begins to feel warm, like a gentle caress on your skin. And as you swim together, you can feel her skin brush against yours, both of you not straying far from each other.

Until again you both hover and your gaze meets his, both the moonlight bathing your face and his, creating shadows and contours that accentuate features.

“This is nice,” he tells you, in a low murmur.

“Yeah, I know.”

His eyes are still on you, beyond simple observation.

There's something else, an intensity you can't help but feel. Aemond is not the kind of person to leave his thoughts out in the open for all to see because he is reserved, cautious.

But now, he seems to be letting a part of himself be seen, as if for once he's lowering his defenses… being with you.

A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, interrupted only by the soft splashing you both make in the water and the murmur of the waves.

You allow yourself to lose yourself in the depth of his eyes, in that intense blue-gray. And you can't help but let your mind wander to the slight closeness of his body to yours.

The softness of his voice and the way he looks at you… it hypnotizes you and makes you think something might be.

When then, you jump unexpectedly and startled where you find yourself floating, looking down at the surface of the dark water as if you can see through it, breaking the magical moment.

“Oh no, no, wait, something touched my foot!” you exclaim in panic.

“What?” he quickly says to you, his face showing a mixture of concern and confusion.

“Ew! I don't know but it felt… gross,” you babble, shaking your legs in the water as if you can push away whatever it was that touched you.

“Hey, hey,” he says, moving closer to you, his voice low but comforting, ”Easy.”

“I think we should go back,” you look at the shore and then at him worriedly.

But Aemond doesn't look frightened or perturbed, just serene. And he moves even closer, his hand reaching for yours underwater.

“Easy, easy,” he murmurs, his voice soft but sure as his arm goes around your waist, pulling you to him, ”I've got you.”

The strength and security with which he holds you seems to anchor you to reality, and without hesitation, you instinctively place your feet around his torso and your arms around his neck as you cling to him, feeling his firm body hold you completely.

Aemond looks at you, his eyes serious but with a soft glow, as if the distance between you had never existed.

”I've got you,” he repeats, this time in a lower whisper, his breath caressing your cheek as his hands hold you firmly, but at the same time gently.

You watch him with parted lips, as the water continues to gently sway around you, but it's as if everything has stopped, except for the racing beat of your heart and the warmth of the touch of his skin against yours.

And just like that, whatever it was that scared you no longer matters to you anymore the moment the foreheads of the two of you brush and slowly draw closer together.

Now you're both breathing hard, but it's not from the effort of swimming, it's the closeness. And it shows in the gentle press of each other's foreheads, in the way the breaths mix in the night, in the way their lips are dangerously close.

Neither of the two of you knows exactly what it is that you're doing and why, but it's inevitable. Something in the air, the magic of the night, the intimacy of the moment… it all leads you to this point.

You watch his lips, desiring it, and Aemond watches yours too, and then you both look into each other's eyes again, so close.

And then it happens.

Slowly, almost as if both of you are afraid to break the charm of the moment, your lips connect with his. At first it is a soft touch, barely a touch, as if tasting the flavor of each other, but soon the softness transforms into something deeper, more urgent.

His arms around your waist pull you even closer to him, as you cling to his neck.

The kiss intensifies, your mouths meeting in a slow but passionate dance, as if you've both been waiting for this moment for a long time, without even knowing it.

The feel of his hands on your skin, the heat emanating from his body, makes everything else disappear. The moon is still shining above you, the stars are still twinkling in the sky, but now there is only this instant.

His lips move over yours with a tenderness you didn't expect, but also with a passion that takes your breath away.

The softness of his mouth against yours and the warmth of his hands firmly holding you, makes you place a hand on his cheek and tilt your head to kiss him more deeply.

But suddenly, a rumble echoes through the sky.

You jump slightly, the sound interrupting the moment abruptly, and both of you stop the kiss as you turn at the same time towards the sky, confused by the noise.

When then, a burst of multicolored lights floods the night sky, followed by another explosive sound. And you watch in wonder at the fireworks, illuminating the horizon with flashes of red, green, gold and all colors.

The sparkles reflect off the ocean, painting the water with brilliant traces of color, as the party on the Sunset's pier is in full bloom.

And you guess that Alysanne didn't mean a lamp show, but fireworks.

Aemond also watches the show in the sky, then watches you again, both of you closer than ever and surprised by what just happened, both the kiss and the fireworks.

You watch him back, too, still surprised, your lips still warm from the recent contact, your heart still pounding in your chest.

And for a few seconds, you both stay like that, just watching each other under the fireworks, your bodies still entwined in the water, while the colors continue to dance in the sky.

But then, without much thought, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, you lean into him again, your lips finding his once more, unable to help yourself.

And he reciprocates with the same need and gentleness, the kiss being more determined and firmer.

His arms wrap tighter around you, and you feel him pull you to him, closing any space between you. The water sways gently around you, but neither of you notice. Only the kiss matters, the warmth and the connection that has been reignited.

The salty taste of the sea on your lips and the sensation of his breath mixing with yours make it all feel intensely real and at the same time, almost like a dream.

His lips move with yours in a slow, deep dance, as the fireworks continue to explode in the sky, their distant sound almost becoming a melody.

But it's as if all that show is just a backdrop for what's happening between the two of you, the two of you kissing… under the moon.

series taglist:

@zenka69 @strangersunghoon @deliaseastar @thefireblaze @kythefangirl25 @p45510n4f4shi0n @saturnssrings @bellaisasleep @primroseluna @tinykryptonitewerewolf @barnes70stark @tssf-imagines