#god the ending made me burst into tears

[yaboibells]

Just finished Good Omens season 2! How are we GO fandom ;)

[cherishedskulls]

i would do anything. anything. to be able to experience the ending of saw for the first time again. anything.

[dykedivorce]

the monster baru cormorant: i'm drowning 🤕💔💉

the tyrant baru cormorant: ... in pussy!!!😜👉👌💦

[luveline]

hotch sister idea-- convincing hotch to take you out to dinner with the whole team because you "want to properly meet his friends" (i'm a sucker for team dynamics) but then being shy and cute with spencer the entire time to the point that hotch notices and gets a tad protective...but ends with spencer getting her number or something

thank you for requesting 💌 —you attend a party with your older brother in a not so secret plight to see Dr. Reid. You fawn, Spencer flusters, and Hotch drinks a tad more than usual. fem, 2.3k

cw for mentions of past child abuse

The car is quiet besides the tread of the tires on asphalt. You click and unclick the clasp of your shoulder bag, checking for your purse, getting worried your purse isn’t in there, and checking again.

“If there’s something you want to ask me, you can ask me.”

You move your gaze to your brother. His quietness can make you nervous, a reflection of your father but with none of the cruelty. “I don’t want you to get mad at me if it’s stupid.”

“Well, I won’t. I promise.”

You know he won’t, but sometimes the fear remains. Even when you’re far from being a kid. “Do you remember when I got suspended for, um, disrespectful behaviour? My senior year?”

Aaron turns the wheel with care. “I do.”

“And we went for ice cream.”

“Yeah, honey, I remember.”

That’s the point you’re trying to make, maybe. That tenderness sewn into the middle of his sentence. If your dad knew you’d been suspended again he would’ve made you feel it. You remember the sinking sensation in your chest waiting for him to pick you up, having written the speech he’d give you in the car ride home in your head ten times over, the sting of his palm grazing your cheek before you’d even seen his hand. So you waited in a total violent panic, head rush, wondering if anything was worth anything, when Aaron arrived to pick you up.

How did you know? you’d asked.

I changed your emergency contact. I hope that’s okay.

“You asked me what I wanted and…”

What flavour did you want, honey? he’d asked. Honey, like he loved you, the only person in the whole world who’d bother asking. The only man who’d take you for ice cream at seventeen years old to cure a bad day.

“And you burst into tears,” Aaron says.

He’d sat down opposite you in his suit, torn from one of his trials, and you can’t remember anymore if he was an attorney or already in the FBI, but you can’t forget how he’d taken your wrists into his hands and asked you not to cry.

“When you took me home, Haley asked me if you’d upset me, and I didn’t know how to explain it so you said yes. And she shouted at you for a whole half hour.”

“Why are you thinking about this now?” he asks.

Maybe because college is over and you’re forced to move on. Aaron asked you to try hard and you have, but now you have your degree and you don’t know what to do with it, you’ll get a job, and then what?

“I’ve been thinking about… my love life.”

“Oh. And you have to talk about this with me?” he jokes.

“I don’t have anybody else.”

He tears his gaze from the windshield. “That’s not true.”

“But…”

He turns into the parking lot outside of Dan’s Fine Wine Bar and pulls into a tight space with ease. He hesitates before he flicks off the engine, turning to you with a smile. “You’ll always have me,” he says, “and we can talk about your love life. I want to. God knows you’ve heard enough about mine this last year.” You both grimace. “But if I have to listen one more time to you talking about Spencer–”

“You said you wouldn’t get mad!”

“Honey.” He takes off his seatbelt and opens the door. “I’m not mad. But imagine your younger sibling comes to you one day to tell you they have feelings for your employee and try to find some sympathy for me!”

He clambers out of the car. You rush after him, unbuckling your seatbelt and nearly smashing your door into the car next to you. The air outside is cold, and you didn’t bring a jacket even though Aaron told you to twice, so you can’t mention it aloud. “I don’t have feelings for him.”

“You have a crush. You’re too old for it.”

“I am not.”

He gestures for you to walk in front of him as he clicks the fob for the car and the doors lock automatically. “I don’t understand what this has to do with your suspension.”

You chew on your cheek. Neon from the wine bar mottles your skin as you pass under it and through the door, air quickly turned from cold to temperate, the smell of old rain replaced by carpeting and beer. When you lift your head to his gaze, he’s still waiting for your answer. “You told me things wouldn’t be that hard forever. I was just wondering when it’s safe to say you were right.”

He grins at you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to give you a rough hug. “Right now. Be happy right now, honey.”

“There they are!” Penelope calls from a table near the back. Suddenly, Aaron’s entire team of work colleagues stand up where they’ve dominated a whole row of tables and booths alike to greet you. “Oh my gosh, I missed you!”

You met Penelope a long long time ago, and JJ and Derek around the same time, but everybody else is basically new. College was busy and Aaron busier —there was hardly ever time to visit, and when you did it was to see him and Haley. Meeting his friends was somehow put off.

You were introduced to Emily and Spencer, so Aaron directs you to David Rossi first. That’s the main team done quickly. But then he has to introduce you to Anderson, Sweeney, Kelly, Cory, Davidson, etc. So many agents for one man’s birthday. Anyone would think Derek Morgan was a celebrity.

“Happy birthday!” you say, when you finally get a moment to speak.

Derek reaches over the table to hug you quickly. “Thank you, gorgeous. We’re thrilled you’re here.” He pulls back, elbowing Penelope lovingly. “Aren’t we, mama?”

Penelope squeals and jumps for you. “So thrilled!”

Aaron touches your back, as if to say, I’m here, before taking a seat opposite Rossi. You hear snippets of a conversation about whiskey and when, but you’re distracted, because suddenly Penelope’s forcing you to sit down in her vacated seat, smack bang between Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid.

Dr. Spencer Reid. “Hi,” you say quietly. Can’t help it. You remember how you’d reacted when you met him the week before last and wonder if it’s too late to pretend you’re cool —you’d gotten so worked up about him. He wrote a bunch of papers you had to read for your degree, some of the most sophisticated theory on elliptical math you’d ever read, and you’re supposed to act like he’s just a normal guy?

It doesn’t help that he’s model pretty. You’d never have thought of him as he is now over email, his huge brown eyes, pale skin, the flicking curl of his hair behind his ears. When he turns his head, he has indents on his nose from a pair of glasses you wish you’d seen. You clear your throat.

“Hi, Y/N, how are you?” Spencer asks.

“I’m gonna go get a drink now,” Aaron says. “What do you want?” he asks you.

“Um, anything. I don’t really wanna drink.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” he says with deliberateness.

You feel heat like a rash on your neck. He’s embarrassing you doing his dad routine.

“You look pretty,” Spencer says.

You hide your hands under your thighs. “You think so?”

“You look beautiful,” Penelope says from across the table.

“Didn’t inherit that Hotchner scowl,” Derek says with a grin, “I thought it came with the name.”

“I learned how to do it the day they signed the adoption certificate,” you nudge in, “I just keep it to myself. I think Aaron has it down.”

Everybody within hearing distance laughs at you, to your relief. To your left, Spencer’s shoe hits your heel.

“So weird to hear his real name,” Emily says, tipping her drink to the side, ice and sugar on the surface. “I thought for sure you’d have to call him Hotch too.”

You look around in surprise. “He can’t be that bad. Does he really frown so much?”

You’re told vehemently that your brother is a grump, which is something you were aware of, just not experienced in. Sure, he’s had his unhappy moments, no one can smile every second of the day, but if everyone is to be believed he’s the sternest man alive. Eventually things drift into storytelling. Aaron brings you your drink with a straw and a napkin wrapped around the base, and you find yourself listening to a graphic rehash of Derek’s first case with the BAU.

Spencer’s leg is a coal at your side.

Your self preservation runs out. “You don’t drink?” you ask, nodding to his glass bottle of coke.

“I– I never did. I never had the opportunity. I’ve never even been to a party.” He pauses. “I don’t know why I just told you that.”

“I didn’t go to parties either,” you say, overjoyed to find common ground so quickly.

“I mean, I was never invited, but highschool parties didn’t seem like my thing. And, you know, I was twelve.”

“You were twelve in highschool?”

He’s doing that thing you noticed the day you met, where his lips move before he’s ready to talk, his emotion clear. “You weren’t?” he asks, not quite smooth but enough to make you laugh suddenly.

“I wish! I could’ve been done with college years ago.” Your brows pinch together. “Wait, so did you go to college as a kid?”

“I mean, sort of.”

“What? No wonder you didn’t go to any parties, that must’ve been insane. When I was twelve I was still setting my Barbie’s up for dance parties. Aaron has a photo of me dressed up in mom’s old clothes.” You lean forward for a sip of your drink.

“Oh, don’t worry, there’s a photo of me just like that when I was twelve, too.”

You laugh so hard you almost choke.

A cup comes down hard somewhere behind your turned head.

“You okay?” Emily asks.

She wears a smirk you don’t understand, a joke you’ve missed. You peer past her to look to Aaron for advice and find him rather sullen, hand curled tightly around his drink. You try to give him a signal to ask if he’s alright, but it’s to no avail.

“I’m fine, sorry, just a joke.” You turn back to Spencer. “That’s adorable.”

You’re breathless talking to him. He must notice, but Spencer doesn’t say a word.

If someone asked you why he caught your attention, you’re not sure you know the answer. He’s pretty, undeniably, and it’s fascinating that you used his theory while you were in school, but fascination isn’t endless. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you. No ones ever given such a clear sense of awe; he gets stuck on you, his eyes tracing your cheek and your nose and your lips. It’s noticeable, but it isn’t unwanted. You keep coming back to his smile as he talks, the flash of his teeth.

“I honestly didn’t know Hotch had a sister,” Spencer says.

“He was keeping us apart for a reason,” you say insistently, “I just don’t know what that reason is yet. He must’ve known you were the Dr. Reid I’d been reading.”

“It makes it sound like you’re reading me,” Spencer laughs. “Like, my hands.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Do I want you to what?”

“To read your palm?”

“You know how?”

“No parties, remember?”

Spencer gives you his hand. He has nice hands, big but slim-fingered like a pianist’s, though if he plays isn’t something you know. You angle it flat careful, your thumbs to either side of his open palm. “What do you want to know?” you ask.

“What can you tell me?”

You hum gently. “You have your life line, your head line, your heart line– your love line.”

“What does that– that mean for me?”

You press your thumb to his mount Jupiter, a soft hill of his hand under one of his fingers where the heart line begins. “Your desire for love, and your capacity for it. See how deeply curved it is?” you ask, drawing along his heart line gently. “It means you’re warm, and loving. That you could have a great love.”

You look up, his hand held gently between yours. “But I could be really wrong. I haven’t done this in so long, I might just be making stuff up.”

You sound insecure to your own ears, cringing away from his hand, but Spencer ducks his head just a little to keep your gaze, and he smiles at you softly. “It’s okay. I like your reading, even if it’s wrong. Where did you learn how to do that?”

“Aaron would buy me any book I asked for growing up, he…”

Your brother, sitting only a few seats away, can’t find it in himself to regret that particular generosity even if the sight of you holding Spencer’s hand isn’t one he wants to see. It’s odd. You’re fully grown up, and it’s not like Aaron thinks Spencer would ever hurt you purposefully, but it’s hard to see anyways. He can admit to feeling like a father watching his daughter finding a first love; he can’t keep you forever and he doesn’t want to, but it’s still hard to watch as you descend into giggles that border on dizziness.

“This is a good thing,” Rossi says. “You’ll never have to worry about her being out past curfew.”

Aaron laughs, it’s funny, and then he knocks back his drink.

[sweetnans]

firefighter!katsuki x reader PLEASEE 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

As you wish🪄💫

You knew and everybody did too that you weren't the most appropriate person to cook so you tried baking instead. It turned out that you weren't good either now that your kitchen was on fire.

Thankfully, you were fast on calling 911 and they sent you a firefighters unit to help you out.

A bulky red-haired man entered your house while you tried to extinct the fire with your tiny extinguisher. He grabbed you gently by your shoulders, guiding you out of your house so they could bring all the equipment without you standing in their way.

"I bet they would have been delicious" he gave you the most charming and calming smile.

If only he knew...

You were sitting in one of the trucks. One of the firefighters was taking your statement and checking on you for burns and any sort of wounds. You were dissociating while he tried to make you talk.

In your mind, you thought that, thank god you lived in a house and not in an apartment complex. You couldn't live with the shame after setting your kitchen on fire, having all the people gathered around you for the disaster you made. It wasn't like your neighbors weren't there. The moment that the fire siren made his appearance in the block, the nosy neighbors alerted the others, and now they were all by their windows watching you from afar, in comparison with apartaments, at least they were far away from it and you didn't compromised their houses.

"You can't bake shit"

A tall and muscled man blocked the sun from you and got you out of your thoughts in an instant.

"Excuse me?" You were leaving the haze you induced yourself to keep away the embarrassment from burning down your kitchen while making cookies.

"What he was trying to say is that we extinguished the fire, and everything is perfect. Well, almost... Do you have someone you can stay with?" The red-haired man interrupted the angry blonde.

"Mm yeah, I think so"

The interaction was pretty odd, and you tried to maintain your focus on the problem.

"How do you even set your stove on fire?" The blonde continued while the other gave him a warning glance.

"You were right," you jumped off of the truck. "I can't bake shit"

You looked sad and obviously you were. Your first attempt to do something new ended up on you spending the night at your brother's house.

While talking with the EMTs and other firefighters, Bakugo couldn't help but notice your gaze and your face. You looked like you were about to burst into tears.

A few days passed from the incident, you were tired, working your ass off, day and night, to fix your house so could go back there, filling up papers to see if your insurance covered the damage while giving your brother a hand watching his kids after school.

You were on the verge of crying when someone knocked on the front door.

"Hey?" You opened the door slightly to see a man standing in front of you with a box in his hands. You didn't recall hearing your brother saying something about an incoming package.

"You match the description he gave me. This is for you, " he smiled.

The blonde who looked like he was going to some party handed you the package, turned around, and left you there feeling uneasy.

Most of the time, in this situations you acted distrustful, but the man didn't give you time to think about the possibilities.

What if it was a bomb?

You wouldn't be surprised afted the incident. You had something with fire and explosions.

Grabbing the box, you walked to the kitchen. Thankfully, the kids were asleep in their rooms, so if it was a bomb, you would have some time to run away from the kids and the house.

You expected, well, a bomb, explosives, or some detonating device. Well, you were wrong.

A cute purple box with a white ribbon on laid down.

You opened the box, and for your surprise, there were tons of cookies of all shapes, colors, and flavors. You were shocked until you saw the card.

Hey, the fire department went by your house yesterday, and we noticed that what originated the fire was your stove. The wires were defective. We filled up the papers already, and the company promised to fix your house and equip it with everything you lost in the fire.

Give me a call when everything is ready, I'll teach how to bake properly without losing your house in the process.

Bakugo Katsuki.

...

I'm sorry if this isn't what you expected 😪 my brain is dry

Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.

[feyascorner]

Please please please I am in desperate need of Astarion comforting Tav.

Like Tav is always comforting everyone else, but there is never anybody to hold their hand when they are scared or hug them when they are sad. Please let them be scared. Let them be sad, let them be vulnerable and let them feel their own emotions.

Tav needs a hug :,)

a/n. no you're so right because I AM ALWAYS OPEN TO TAV LOVE!!!!! This ended up a lot more fluffy and lighthearted than I expected but I hope that’s okay! :) also this is not proofread pls excuse me for the grammar errors that are definitely in here.

You don’t mind helping others, really. You don’t mind guiding Shadowheart to escaping her evil goddess, you don’t mind finding a way to aid Gale’s ticking time bomb, and you don’t mind spending hours in battle to find a piece of infernal iron for Karlach. It’s natural after all, because they’re your precious companions.

But it’s also made the thought of being something else—the one being comforted—more shameful than anything.

It was just a bad day, honestly. Bits of your life being pricked at with needles. The whole week had been hellish, but today seemed to be bent on finally wiping you clean. A battle going wrong, the lake freezing over and preventing you from taking a bath, the pot of soup you were in charge of burning to cinders—they’re all small, but they add up. And when you find that your favorite pair of gloves are splitting at the seams, it’s your final straw.

You stumble into your tent, barely holding back tears as you close the flap shut behind you, signaling that you wanted to be alone. You collapse into your bedroll, face first as even the blanket beneath you isn’t enough to cushion you against the hard floor.

Gods.

You squeeze your eyes shut, begging your tears to leave. The others have a lot more problems at the moment—ones that wager between life and death—but you can’t help the overwhelming burst of emotions you’ve kept bottled in for weeks now. So many bad things are happening, but there’s no time for you to mourn, because the least you can do is stand beside your companions in their own grief. It forces you to constantly stay alert, keeping your heart open for them but shut closed for yourself.

It’s so, so overwhelming. It almost feels like it’ll swallow you whole.

“Are you alright, darling?”

You hadn’t even heard him entering the tent, and immediately your shoulders tense as you shoot up into a sitting position, wiping desperately at your eyes. You know they’re red, but you hope he ignores it. “No, I’m just tired. I’m turning in early for tonight, sorry.”

He stares at you, making his suspicion blatantly obvious to urge you to continue but you don’t, forcing your eyes to the ground. “No need to be sorry, my love. I was just making sure.”

You want to throw yourself into him. To let him hold you as you complain about the more mundane parts of life as well as the feelings wracking the sobs of your chest. To let him soothe you as all you can do is cry.

But you don’t. It’s just not what you do.

“Pity, these pretty things of yours,” he lifts your gloves that had been discarded on the ground with a cock of a brow. “I quite liked them. But…they don’t seem to be at a complete loss yet.”

You finally look at him.

“Why it just needs a bit of stitching and some polish. It’ll look even better than it did before with my handiwork,” he inspects the fabric closely. “Hm, I was finished with fixing Karlach’s shirt anyway, I suppose I could spare some time for your gloves.”

Despite his words, his eyes are gentle as they shift over to you, and it makes your lip quiver.

“I’ll ask again,” he says softly, and you know it’s an effort in vain to resist. “Are you alright?”

Like a river breaking through a dam, you fling yourself into him, tears already slipping down your cheeks as they smear against his shirt. You worry about the snot for a split second, yanking away, but he just pushes your head back to him, sighing with you practically wrapped on top of him.

“You should have told me before things had gotten this bad, my love,” he says, no true judgment laced in his words. If anything, he sounds amused. It makes you cry even harder as you wail loudly into his chest, with his hand rubbing soothing circles into your back.

It’s like a breath of fresh air.

“Would you like to talk about it?” He asks eventually after what seems like eternity, and your sobs have calmed to sniffles.

“…not now.”

“Very well,” he laces his fingers with yours, and you tilt your head up just enough to see the fond smile stretching on his lips. “I shall remain here until you’re ready. Until then, I have no quarrels with our current arrangement.”

You mumble against him as he lifts your knuckles to his lips. “…thank you for this.”

“You needed this,” he replies, as if it’s obvious. “I’m not you, of course, which is why comfort is not my strong suit, as charming as I am. I much prefer blowing off steam in a bloody battle, but this—“ he runs a hand through your hair, gentle enough not to pull at any strands. You resist the need to sigh into the feeling. “—this, I can do as many times as you need.”

[all4yoi]

only you

𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ⚹ cw. part 2 of just a game , hyung line , 2nd pov , ︎ fluff / comfort , lowercase intended , crying , cliche fluff omfg , karina mentioned on heeseung's & wonyoung on sunghoon's , not proofread ! part one here !

after catching them holding hands with another female, you walk away from them and they run after you, assuring you it was all a misunderstanding.

★ LEE HEESEUNG (0.5k words)

the day was coming to an end and heeseung has yet to find you.

after he had politely rejected karina, he ran after you but to no avail. all of his attempts on trying to reach you was a bootless errand. everytime he had seen a glimpse of you - whether in the cafeteria, library, the hallways, and god even in your shared class - you somehow always found a way to avoid him.

he could've simply gave up and moved on, he could've ran back to karina and date her instead. but he didn't want to give up and move on, he didn't want to run back to karina and date her, because what he wanted- needed, was you.

heeseung didn't want to go home yet, he needed to see you and explain everything. he'd be a fool to let you out his reach especially now that he knows you feel the same for him. he wasn't going to lose you because of a stupid mistake he made.

spotting a familiar figure sitting underneath a tree in the university's garden, he silently walked towards them, his fingers crossed hoping that he's finally found you.

and as if the universe was on his side, he saw you gorgeously flipping through a book with your pink earphones on. heeseung silently sat beside you, hoping you won't run away from him again. he saw how you stiffened and how your fingers stopped playing with the book's pages, and he wanted nothing but to hold your hand. it was your hand he wanted to hold- no one else's. you may not be with him yet, but ever since he realized he liked you, he was already yours before you even knew.

"y/n," he started softly, gently removing one earbud from your ear so you could hear him. you let him and look at him with hesitance, scared that he's here to tell you that he's changed his mind and he likes karina now instead.

heeseung smiled softly at you, "please let me talk and explain everything, okay?" you nodded, feeling your throat clogging up. "karina, you know she's one of my good friends, right? when you saw me holding her hand a while ago, she was the one who took my hand. i was so taken aback by her confession that i completely froze-..

because she's like a sister to me and you're the one i want. you're the one i need.. the one i like." he paused, brows furrowed in worry, hoping you'd understand. "i'm sorry for letting her hold my hand, and i'm sorry for hurting you. i really really like you y/n, please let me redeem myself to you." he finished, a small hesitant smile in his face as he studied yours.

feeling overwhelmed, you burst into tears. heeseung panicked, thinking he said something wrong and brought you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you.

"i thought you'd choose her over me." you cried in his chest, your own arms wrapping around his waist. heeseung didn't know why, but even when you were crying in his chest with your arms wrapped around his waist, he was feeling over the moon.

shaking his head, he pulled you closer if it was even possible and mumbled in your hair, "i'll choose you in a room full of other girls baby. only you."

other members utc!

★  PARK JONGSEONG (0.5k words)

3 hours was enough space right? jay liked to think it was, he was too impatient and just wanted to run to you and explain everything, but he knew you probably didn't want to see him after what you've witnessed.

jay had tried to put himself in your shoe, imagining seeing you holding hands with another boy after confessing to you- by the thought of it alone already made him feel ten times more worse, he hated himself with how much pain he had caused you.

so instead of waiting until tomorrow, jay took his bag and walked out of the cafeteria, ignoring his friends that were calling for him. he already knew where to find you, after all, he's always had his eyes on you ever since the first semester started.

jay muttered a quiet 'good afternoon' to the librarian before making a beeline towards the back of the library and there you were in your element. laptop open, headphones on with multiple books on the table you've occupied.

he liked to think that his type were girls that were a bit dumb so that he could lead the relationship, but when it comes to you? smart, pretty, and soft spoken? if his heart could speak, he's certain that the only word it can mutter is your name, and he's not ashamed to admit that.

the moment you looked up and made eye contact with him almost made his knees give up if it weren't for him holding on to a shelf to stabilize himself, and when you softly smiled at him despite what you saw that morning, it made him yearn for you more. he wouldn't ask for no one else.

call him cliché but you were the only one for him.

"what are you doing there? come sit." you motioned on the empty seat across from you to which he occupied immediately. "have you eaten?"

"have you?" he questioned back, eyeing the papers and books splattered on the table. "i had coffee." was your reply.

jay knew that you were still upset, it was showing in your body language. you were tense, stiff, and your fingers were shaking behind your laptop. he wanted to punch himself for making you feel this way.

"i'm sorry y/n, i really am." the hum you let out made him continue, his eyes studying your pretty face silently. "it's really not what it looked like-"

"everyone says that jay." the way you bit your lip told him that you didn't mean to cut his sentence off and be so harsh.

"yes, i know, it's stupid but i'm telling the truth. she bumped into me and fell, i couldn't just leave her on the floor because everyone saw our collision so i offered her a hand. that was it, i was about to walk away but she introduced herself and insisted on shaking hands.. then you saw me.

i know it looked so wrong from your perspective without context, and i'm sorry for upsetting you. i really had no other intentions, i was telling you the truth when i told you that night that i like you too, so much." he reached out for your hand, sighing in relief when you didn't pull away.

you nodded your head in understanding, squeezing his hand to tell him you now understand. "i'm sorry for jumping into conclusions and not hearing you out the first time."

he shook his head, squeezing your hand back. "it's okay, i understand. we're good now?" chuckling at him, you nodded and smiled at him. "we are, thank you."

★ SIM JAEYUN (0.4k words)

the tears in your eyes as you walked away from him made his heart crack. should he run after you? will you find him annoying? do you want him to run after you or do you want nothing to do with him now?

after arguing with himself on his head, he ran after you and engulfed you in a hug before you could turn around the corner and disappear from his sight. "please let me explain." his own voice cracked, and the weird looks you both received from the other students did not faze him at all.

"jake, not here please. they're looking at us.." he hastily took your hand and led you into an empty classroom, wanting nothing more than to assure you that what you thought is wrong and all he wanted was only you.

after he had made sure the door was locked and no one else was hiding somewhere, he immediately took your hands in his rubbing the back of your palm with his thumb.

you didn't know what to feel, was this how he held that girl's hand too? did he hold hers with gentleness too? with that in thought, your tears were back.

"no no, please don't cry. it was all a misunderstanding i promise." he held your face and wiped away the tears, his eyes held worry but so much love as well.

"she mistook me as her boyfriend, it didn't even last for 10 seconds because the moment she held my hand we both pulled away from each other.. it was just wrong timing that you saw it and we made eye contact, please believe me." he was practically crying with you right now, his own tears cascading down the apple of his cheeks.

you frantically nodded your head - now you were the one panicking at the sight of his tears. "i do, thank you for explaining. please don't cry." his tears were wiped with your thumbs as you hugged him tight.

"i don't want you to ever think i'm lying to you, you're really all i need." he explained further through his sobs, his arms tightening around you more.

there you two were, hugging each other in an empty room, tears falling down from both of your eyes as you comforted each other. and at that moment, no one else mattered - it was just the both of you in the world.

★ PARK SUNGHOON (0.6k words)

to say that sunghoon felt like shit the whole day yesterday and this morning was an understatement. he had desperately contacted you in all your social media accounts - fucking christ he even contacted you through your school's email, but to no avail, he was always left ignored.

he didn't blame you though, if he was to experience and see what you did yesterday, he would act the same - maybe even worse. sunghoon wanted nothing more but to make it up to you, to explain that he was only doing wonyoung a favor to make her crush jealous. i guess you could blame him for agreeing, but did he really have a choice when she just randomly grabbed him and told him to smile at every passing student? maybe.

he had texted wonyoung that same afternoon, telling her- demanding her politely? to explain everything to you, she told him she did but was only left on read by you. the girl apologized profusely to you and sunghoon, she didn't have any idea about the two of you and if she did - she wouldn't have done what she did.

but what's done is done, and now sunghoon is still trying to desperately reach you. throughout the day, he would hear your name coming out of other people's mouth, but not once did he catch a single glimpse of you. sunghoon was running out of options, he didn't want to be that type of guy to show up infront of your door step in fear of crossing boundaries, but he was seriously considering doing it today.

sunghoon mentally chanted your name in his head as if that would help and summon you, and you know what? maybe it did work because now he was seeing you standing across from him, your back facing towards him as you looked at the bulletin board.

not wasting any time, he raced towards you and gently grabbed your forearm, successfully turning your attention from the bulletin board to the taller boy behind you. sunghoon wanted the ground to swallow him whole when he saw how your face dropped at the sight of him.

"let's talk, please?" he whispered that only you could hear, glancing around the corridor before looking back at you. the small hesitant nod was everything he needed before he lead you in an empty hall as everyone was in the cafeteria.

sunghoon took his chance and took you in, loving the way you've dressed yourself today and he wanted to just keep you in his arms all day, but he reminded himself that he needed to clear things up and make you his girlfriend obviously before he could even do that.

"wony already explained everything, i'm sorry for assuming the wrong thing.." sunghoon was taken aback by your sudden apology, and the tightness in his chest grew.

he took your face in his hand, gently bringing your chin up so he could look you in the eye. "i should be the one apologizing.. i'm sorry for making you feel that way, i didn't have any other intentions towards her and i only like you.. so much to the point that it hurts. i'll do anything to prove it to you."

he couldn't understand that someone so precious as you could grow such feelings for him, he couldn't process and believe that he's important to someone he finds important too. should he be punished by the gods above because he finds your teary eyes enchanting? he could see his reflection in your eyes and the love it carries, and somehow he finally understands. sunghoon feels warm as he brought you to his chest, tucking your head in the crook of his neck.

"i'll show you, i'll give you my everything and my forever. you're it for me."

[rennalaqotfm]

𖤓 DRAGONSPEAR | J.V (PART IV)

Pairing: Prince Jacaerys Velaryon x Martell Princess! Reader

Synopsys: Upon discovering Aemond Targaryen's alliance with the Triarchy, the Blacks are pushed to the point of desperation. With the war looming over the horizon, they have no choice but to turn to an unlikely ally: House Martell.

Content Warning: Sexual content (but MDNI 18+ just to be safe), dry humping (-ish?), violence, alcohol consumption, toxic dynamics, swearing, themes of prejudice and misogynism, and a lot of 'fucking politicking,' as King Viserys said, (not proofread).

WC: 5.6k

Series Masterlist

(A/N and taglist at the end of the chapter)

As the winds guided Ser Tyland's ship to the Free Cities, the excitement regarding the wedding of the future Princess of Dorne and the Crown Prince buzzed in the air. No ravens had to be sent, for the whispers began within the palace walls, spread through the bustling streets of Sunspear, and were carried by the desert winds across the dunes, reaching the furthest Dornish houses.

Princess Y/n sat before her mirror, watching her handmaiden, Melynda, fasten the back of her dress. A sweet girl of one-and-twenty, Melynda had been brought from Pentos on a cramped boat, a former slave traded by her master for coin. Ever since she had served the Princess with quiet devotion, her nimble fingers always making a masterpiece out of her.

Despite being draped in the finest fabrics of deep sapphire, adorned with intricate golden swirls and beads of amber, Y/n stared blankly at her reflection. The celebrations leading to the wedding were set to last a fortnight, a long stretch filled with feasts, ceremonies, and endless politicking. In mere hours, she would be facing the guests, forced to smile and charm as she and the Velaryon boy persuaded them to align with Rhaenyra's cause. She didn't even know where to begin looking for the strength and willpower she had to gather to convince those lords to join a war she herself didn't fully believe in.

“Is it too tight, Princess?” Melynda asked meekly, noting how Y/n had remained quiet the whole time she had been preparing her. "Princess?"

Suddenly, Y/n's bottom lip began to quiver as she felt a knot forming in her throat. 

“Gods be damned…” she muttered, feeling her tears pooling in her eyes. “How did it all come to this?” 

“If it's too tight, mayhaps I could—”

“Of course, it’s bloody tight! It’s damn near crushing my guts!” the Princess burst out, causing her handmaiden to stumble backward, her hands trembling. “I apologise, Melynda,” she sniffed, feeling the guilt pool in her chest. It wasn’t the first time she had taken her anger and frustration out on the younger girl. Of all the people in the palace, she was the least deserving of such crude treatment. “It’s just—”

“I understand, Princess,” Melynda smiled sadly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. Y/n held her hand softly, holding back her cries. “To be betrothed to someone who you don't truly love must be a punishment for the soul.”

“I’ve been trying to avoid this all these years. Gods forbid a woman who wants to live a life free from all this nonsense," she muttered bitterly.

“You are to be the Princess of Dorne. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“But not with a Targaryen… someone who sees us as nothing more than goatfuckers.”

“Once you get to acquainted with one another, I’m certain he’ll see past the veil of prejudice that blinds the rest of Westeros.”

“Oh, we’re well past the point of acquaintances, and I’m certain we’ve both made it clear that we’d rather kill each other than push forward with this betrothal.”

“And yet, you've hardly spent a moment alone together, away from prying eyes. Forgive me if I'm wrong, my Princess, but this hostility you feel towards one another... it feels more like the weight of your houses than your own. He’s not truly wronged you, nor have you wronged him... well, apart from the few wounds you’ve exchanged.”

“I wish it were as simple as you say, but the hatred between our houses runs deeper than that trial. We’re talking about years of bloodshed, of lives torn apart by their desire to conquer what was never theirs. How can we ever forget that? If anything, those Targaryens are only reaping what they've sown.”

“I understand, Princess, but is it truly fair to place the sins of the forefathers upon their children? Yes, the Targaryens once sought to conquer Dorne, but they failed. And since then, they’ve left us to rule our lands. Why should Prince Jacaerys suffer for the wrongdoings of his ancestors when he himself hasn't harmed you?”

“You speak the truth, Melynda. But do you truly think the rest of the Dorne will see it that way?” She stared at her handmaiden's reflection. “The pain the Targaryens have caused... it’s not just written in our histories, it’s engraved into the souls of our people.”

“I’m not saying that your betrothal to Prince Jacaerys will reconcile your houses overnight, Princess. In fact, it may take generations to heal these wounds. However, if Queen Rhaenyra proves to be the rightful and just ruler she claims to be, and honours your demands... and you and Prince Jacaerys unite the Seven Kingdoms as promised, then mayhaps it could be the beginning of something.” 

Suddenly, both women were startled by a knock on the door.

“Yes?” Y/n cleared her throat.

“My Princess,” Ser Domeric's said from the other side. “The guests have begun to arrive, and your presence is expected shortly.”

Princess Y/n quickly composed herself, ensuring that any trace of sorrow had vanished from her face, and replaced her semblance with a mask of indifference.

The late afternoon breeze crept through the palace windows, stirring the heavy air in the Hall but doing little to lift the mood. Spirits were low and the lingering music was drowned out by the quiet murmurs of the guests. Lords and ladies from House Yronwood to House Qorgyle had traversed across the arid deserts to Sunspear, not out of enthusiasm, but out of duty, their gazes shifting warily as they gathered to pay tribute to the Princess. Even Y/n herself, appeared as though she wished to be anywhere else.

At the high table, the Martells sat alongside the Targaryens, not able to look one another eye to eye. They faced the great houses, whose semblance didn’t hide their disdain for the dragonriders. They showed no efforts for forced pleasantries, bracing themselves for the next chapter of conflict rather than celebrating a wedding that would unite the Seven Kingdoms.

Before anything, Prince Qoren stood up, ready to speak before his people.

“It is truly an honour to welcome you all this evening, and I thank each and every one of you for making the long journey to Sunspear. Tonight, we gather not only to celebrate the betrothal of my beloved daughter, Princess Y/n Martell, to the Crown Prince Jacaerys Velaryon... but also, the union between House Martell and House Targaryen,” he spoke, the enthusiasm fading in his voice. 

The crowd fell into an immediate hush, the lords and ladies exchanging uncertain glances, some full of resentment, and some full of disgust. Y/n felt each pressing gaze suffocating her and tried to hide her discomfort behind the rim of her cup, already expecting those pessimistic reactions. After all, who in their right mind would willingly wed a Targaryen?

“Out of all of the suitors that have lost their lives willing to serve you and our realm, you chose to spare the one whose ancestors sought to conquer our lands?” Lady Liara from House Briar’s voice trembled, barely able to hold back her anger. “Could you not have shown mercy to my sweet boy Eldritch instead?”

The Princess had always been taught to hold back in such moments, especially in front of such a large audience, but before she could stop herself, the words were already spilling out of her mouth.

“My Lady,” Y/n began, trying to push down the feeling of irritation rising up her chest. “Remind me… who sent your son, alone, to seek my hand? As far as I know, someone that young shouldn’t be burdened with ‘providing me a strong heir’ or ‘making Dorne more prosperous than it already is.’ Those aren’t words a boy of three-and-ten should be speaking.” 

Lady Liara sank back to her seat with a scowl. The Princess’ gaze swept across the Hall, their faces etched with grief and bitterness, never forgetting the lives lost in pursuit of her hand. 

Whilst the guests sat in silence, waiting for either Prince Qoren or Princess Y/n to justify such a decision, Rhaenyra seized the moment to capture the crowd’s attention. She cleared her throat and rose slowly, her lilac eyes lingering on each guest, meeting the same eyes that had carried pent-up hatred for generations.

“By coming here, we are not denying the sins of House Targaryen,” she paused, allowing her words to settle, her gaze never leaving the crowd.  “I understand that to many of you, we are still the enemy. I am aware of the blood that was spilled and the pain that has lingered for generations. But the true enemies now are the Greens, who have usurped the Throne and seek to bring all of Westeros to its knees. And I know Dorne will not bend without a fight. Join us, and we will stand together. We can prevent the war that the Greens will bring to your lands.”

Despite Rhaenyra's words, the guests still mumbled with one another and her plea fell on indifferent ears. She clasped her hands together, holding her composure.

“So, the Greens are the enemies now, eh?" A voice echoing across the hall finally broke through the whispers. “To them, you are the usurper. And as far as we are concerned, they have yet to come to our lands to pester us with this petty war of yours.”

“Do not mistake their silence for mercy, my Lord. When they come, they will not ask. They will take. And by then, it may be too late to decide where your loyalties lie,” Daemon retorted.

“They have left us with no other choice,” Lord Lysander Dayne scowled. “Is this why you brought these beasts? So they can burn us if we refuse to join?”

Upon the mere mention of the dragons, the fear of the crowd became palpable. Prince Qoren’s face was flushed with anger, seeing that the celebration had somehow turned into a council meeting.

“Enough of this nonsense!” Prince Qoren bellowed, rising to his feet and jabbing his fist to the table. "We are here to celebrate the upcoming wedding of my daughter, not to squabble over this bloody war! If I hear more of it tonight, I’ll throw you in a pit of scorpions myself," his voice cut through the crowd, making the lords shrink back into their seats as he glared at Rhaenyra.

The music, which had momentarily ceased, began to play again. Princess Y/n exhaled deeply, gripping her cup as she swirled the crimson liquid. If she was going to endure the remainder of this night and persuade those thick-skulled lords to support Rhaenyra, she would need wine. A lot of it. She downed the first cup, the sweet taste lingering on her palate as her gaze shifted across the room, spotting the lords she had to sway.

Lord Lysander of House Dayne sat with his lady wife, his stern face etched with displeasure. He had made it clear where he stood, opposing any involvement in the war. Yet, he was infamously known for his ambition; he was the sort of man who would bend the knee for the right price, advancing his own house in exchange for his formidable army. Then there was Lord Thaddeus of House Yronwood, head of the second-most powerful house in Dorne, capable of providing enough supplies to sustain the armies at sea; a practical man, loyal to tradition, but always open to negotiation. On the other side of the Hall, she spotted Lord Ander of House Jordayne, who owned the largest fleet in Dorne.

Ser Domeric, being part of House Uller and their loyal informant, would provide whatever support was asked. And lastly, House Santagar, though not enthusiastic, had always been fiercely loyal to the Martells and would stand by their house regardless.

Despite the collective disappointment lingering in the air, as the feast came to an end, the guests stood up to salvage what remained of the evening. Jacaerys’ eyes followed Y/n as she rose from her seat, weaving through the multitude and making her way to Lord Lysander. The man bowed his head and extended his hand, offering the Princess a dance which she accepted with a smile that seemed far too charming than she would normally allow herself to be. Jacaerys couldn’t tear his gaze from Y/n, watching how she leaned towards Lord Lysander, her lips closely brushing his ear, as he nodded eagerly so as not to disappoint her.

“A celebration of our upcoming betrothal?” Jacaerys scoffed, already feeling his blood boil at the sight of the Princess with another man. Had they been at the Red Keep, the whispers would have already circled around, rumours of the Princess enjoying the company of other men, even while bound by a betrothal to him, that would call into question not only her honour but the legitimacy of their future children. He could already hear the council’s scandalous whispers behind closed doors–whispers that had been haunting him all his life.

“She’s quite gifted, isn’t she, my dear sister?” Elyas remarked, turning to Jacaerys. “She has a way of making men dance in the palm of her hand.”

“Only if one is foolish enough to fall for whatever games she is playing,” Jacaerys muttered.

Jacaerys and Elyas watched how Lord Lysander placed a kiss on top of her hand. With one final whisper, she slipped away from his arms and disappeared into the crowd, only to be seen again; that time with Lord Ander, who offered the Princess his hand without hesitation. 

“There are a couple of things you should know about her,” Elyas said with a sneer, glancing at the Princess. “One of them is… you’ll never be her only one.”

“You need not tell me what I can already see. It seems your sister is not familiar with the notion of faithfulness.”

“Faithfulness? As far as I’m aware, neither of you are bound by vows just yet,”  Elyas grinned, noting how Jacaerys clearly wasn’t enjoying the conversation. "But listen, this celebration isn’t meant for you to sulk in a corner, watching my sister dance with every lord in Dorne. It's for indulging. There’s a place not too far from the palace, where we know how to truly celebrate. Who knows? You might not even survive this war you’re throwing yourself into. You may as well enjoy the finest pleasures our land has to offer before it’s too late," Jacaerys’s knuckles whitened around his cup, his repulsion palpable, but Elyas only leaned in closer. 

As much as Jacaerys despised watching Princess Y/n flit from lord to lord, he wasn’t about to lower himself to her games. What was she trying to prove? Was she testing him, daring him to show any signs of jealousy or anger? Or mayhaps she was simply making it clear, once again, how much she misliked him?

Jacaerys refused to give Elyas the satisfaction of a response and merely shook his head. Elyas smirked, amused by Jacaerys' restraint, and stood up, ensuring he ruined the evening even more before leaving.

“Oh, and just so you know… whatever illusions you have about loyalty and honour, you'd best cast them aside. If you think my sister will suddenly change her ways after this betrothal of yours, then you’re completely wrong. I’m telling you now, she won’t. She’s as Dornish as they come… untamable and always chasing trouble. The more you tighten the leash, the more she’ll struggle to break free. And she’ll keep playing her games, whether you like them or not... so you better learn how to play them if you don't wish to end up as another one of her playthings,” Elyas said, slapping Jacaerys’ shoulder playfully before walking away.

Jacaerys hadn’t even realised how tightly he was clenching his jaw until the sound of Elyas and his sworn protector’s fading footsteps pulled him back to reality. He let out a breath, trying to shake off the bitterness away, and downed a gulp of wine.

But what he hadn’t noticed was a pair of dark wide eyes watching him from the other end of the table. It was Farien, whose gaze had been flickering between him and Elyas the whole time. When Jacaerys caught the boy's gaze, his expression softened. He set down his cup, watching how the little boy stood up and made his way over to him.

“If you marry my sister, does that mean you’ll become my brother?” Farien asked. 

“I suppose,” he forced a smile, though he wasn’t sure if the little boy was particularly glad about that.

Farien climbed on to the empty seat beside Jacaerys, glancing around the nearly deserted table and making sure none of his family members were nearby. All of the Martells were tending their own business, leaving the Targaryens seated in silence. The boy leaned in close, cupping his small hands around Jacaerys’s ear, scared that someone might hear what he had to say.

“So, does that mean I get to ride your dragon?” He whispered. 

Jacaerys looked at him, his eyes widening in surprise. 

“If your father allows you, then I suppose you could… but are you not afraid?” He asked.

“I’m really, really scared. But I wonder what it must feel like to see the world from up above. The closest I’ve ever gotten to flying is in my dreams, you know? It feels like I’m one of Father’s falcons, soaring high in the skies. Father says I have the gift to turn into one of them at night and watch over the desert,” he glanced up, his eyes gleaming in wonder.

Jacaerys looked at the boy and allowed himself to smile, as Farien somehow reminded him of his younger brother, Joffrey, whom he hadn't seen in a long time.

“Anyway,” Farien continued, “I think we could be brothers, you and I. We even look alike, see?” He pointed at Jacaerys’ curls. “It would be nice to have another brother... because, well, Elyas... he’s nice, sometimes. But not always.”

Jacaerys held back a scoff, figuring as much. 

“And what about your sister?” 

“We like sneaking sweets from the kitchens and feeding them to the horses,” Farien’s eyes suddenly lit up. “And she loves fighting, too. But not the angry, shouting kind, no. She says that sometimes, fighting feels like dancing, and that’s why she enjoys it. She’s really good at it. And I think you are too. But my sister is better.”

Just as he was about to ask Farien what other things his sister enjoyed, one of the little boy’s servants approached them. 

“My Prince, your father has sent me to take you back to your chambers to rest,” she smiled at the little boy, who had no choice but to accept dejectedly.

As the servant took him in her arms, Farien waved at Jacaerys with a small smile. He nodded at the little boy, unable to stop himself from smiling back.

“At least the little one is not as irritating as the rest of his family,” Rhaenyra said as her gaze softened, noticing how the little boy never tore his eyes from them as he got further and further.

“Give him a couple of years. He will turn out exactly like his older brother,” Daemon muttered. 

Then, Jacaerys' gaze trailed back to the Princess once again, who was still locked in a dance with Lord Ander. The exchange of whispers seemed to grow more intense, as his lips lingered on the shell of her ear, making her nod as her smile never left her lips.

“Jacaerys,” Daemon’s sharp voice cut through his thoughts. “Do you not have a duty to fulfil?”

“I have been fulfilling them since the moment we arrived,” he muttered, his voice laced with irritation. As Jacaerys had been doing everything he could to uphold his duties, Daemon merely sat back, watching the spectacle he had set in motion unravel before him. 

“You have, but sitting and watching the Princess be courted by every lord in Dorne is not one of them. Listen to me, these men are doing everything in their power to pull her away from our alliance since they can see she does not favour you,” he paused leaning in closer. “You are no stranger to this. If you two are to rule the Seven Kingdoms, she needs to be seen by your side.”

Jacaerys rose from his seat as he exhaled, growing frustrated by the second. It was all in the name of duty, after all. He headed towards the Princess with steady steps, disappearing into the crowd and dodging every drunken lord and lady that stood in his way. Lord Ander, who seemed to have more intentions than just dancing with the Princess, held her close, too close, his hands lingering on her waist. 

“My Lord,” Jacaerys cleared his throat, barely containing himself. Lord Ander snapped his head towards his direction. “I would hate to interrupt your conversation, but the hour is quite late, and Princess Y/n needs to rest.”

“Is that so?” He pulled Y/n even closer to him, making Jacaerys’ blood boil. “How come the Princess seems to be enjoying herself?”

Jacaerys’ eyes flicked to the cup in her hand, the liquid threatening to spill from the rim. He wasn’t a stranger to that dazed look and that loose smirk playing on her lips. 

“The Princess seems to have indulged in one too many cups. You may continue whatever… conversation you were having on the morrow, my Lord,” Jacaerys forced his words through his teeth. 

“Is that an order from the Crown Prince? Or from a boy who is still learning how to hold a woman’s interest?” Lord Ander raised a brow, sliding his hand even lower on her waist. 

The Princess’ gaze flicked between the two men, unaware of the escalating tension. She took another sip from her cup, her eyes landing on Jacaerys, finally acknowledging how dashing he looked in a Dornish ensemble of deep blues and golds.

“Gods, spare me,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “You two sound like you’re ready to start another war.”

“If it means winning your favour, Princess,” Lord Ander said with a grin.

“Mayhaps that's a battle for another day. Besides, the Prince is right, the hour is quite late,” she said softly, growing tired at the show of bravado between the two men. She moved away from Lord Ander and took a step towards Jacaerys.

Jacerys, whose heart was pounding with both anger and relief, offered her his arm. Y/n would’ve hesitated at first, but under the effects of wine, any qualms were long gone. She noted how he tensed his arm uncomfortably, unaware that she was putting pressure on the wound she had given him not too long ago. 

Casymir leaned against one of the pillars with a hint of amusement on his face, watching the whole scene unfold before his eyes. Once Jacaerys and Y/n were away from the crowd, he finally pushed himself off the pillar, approaching Jacaerys, who was struggling to keep her in place.

“Allow me, my Prince. The Princess is in good hands with me,” he said, extending his arm. 

Jacaerys glared at Casymir as he adjusted her weight in his arm, wondering what he was smiling for.

“You are the Princess’ sworn protector, are you not?” He raised his brow. 

“Yes, my Prince,” he smiled proudly.

“Yet all you did was stand and watch how the Princess wandered into the clutches of men with less than noble intentions,” Jacaerys tried to keep his composure, though his anger simmered beneath the surface.

“Do you question my service to the Princess, my Prince?” He chuckled, brushing the Prince’s concerns aside. “The Princess was in no immediate danger. And as far as I’m aware, a dance with a lord hardly constitutes a threat.”

“If you think a man whose ulterior motives are clearly written in his face not to be dangerous, then mayhaps we have very different understandings of the word danger,” Jacaerys said. 

“You greatly misunderstand the Princess. Lord Ander was eager, but he knew better than to cross the line. And besides, she would’ve ended his attempts long before you stepped in. As you might have already… experienced, the Princess knows how to handle herself and hardly needs to be coddled,” his blue eyes trailed at the way their arms were intertwined. “Though, it seems she doesn’t mind letting you try.”

“So, what are you here for, then? Just for decoration?”  

“Is picking fights with other men a favourite pastime of yours, my Prince?” The Princess laughed, poking fun at Jacaerys as she unconsciously tightened her grip around his injured arm. “You do seem to have a talent for making enemies wherever you go.”

Jacaerys hesitated, unsure if replying to the Princess was even worth the efforts given her current state, so he merely scoffed, shaking his head in defeat. However, one thing he couldn’t ignore was the feeling of having her so close as she mindlessly ran her hand up and down the length of his arm. He tried to calm his heart, but he couldn’t keep his composure with each stroke of her fingers that made him lean into her touch ever so slightly.   

Once they reached the Princess’ chambers, Casymir leaned on the door, his arms crossed with an infuriatingly calm expression on his face. 

“If you wish to be escorted back to your chambers, my Prince, I can call for a servant,” Casymir offered, implying that Jacaerys had overstayed his welcome.

“No. I wish to stay. The Princess and I have a few words to exchange,” he said.

“I’ll be fine, Cas,” the Princess slurred, assuring her sworn protector with a slow nod.

“As you wish, my Princess. I'll be just outside, should you require any assistance.”

Jacaerys stood by the door, unsure of what to do now that he was inside the Princess’ chambers. It wasn’t improper of him, as her soon-to-be husband, to be seen there, so he found himself leaning against the wall, trying to regain the composure that he had repeatedly lost throughout the night. His eyes trailed around the intricately carved golden statues that adorned the corners and the colourful tapestries that swayed slightly, catching the faint breeze that slipped through the windows and bringing with it the distant murmurs of the ongoing celebration. 

Only when he heard a soft clink and the steady stream of wine being poured into a cup, he snapped out of his thoughts. Before he could even think, he turned to Y/n, walking towards her and snatching the cup and jug from her hands, causing her mouth to hang open in disbelief and indignation. 

“You will not drink any more tonight,” he ordered, pouring the liquid out of the window and slamming the cup aside.  

“Well, isn’t this absolutely perfect?” She spat, throwing her arms in the air in defeat. “Not only will you take away my freedom, but now you wish to take away one of the few things that bring me joy?”

“You must live a very miserable life, Princess, if wine and men are the few things in life that bring you joy,” Jacaerys burst out, no longer able to contain the pent-up anger that had been brewing all night.

“Oh, believe me, I’ll have a miserable life once I marry you.”

“And what makes you think I want to marry you? That behaviour of yours… is unacceptable,” he wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I do not wish to marry someone who is a slave to their desires.”

“A slave to my desires? Is that what you think of me?” Y/n shouted, unable to control the fury taking over her voice.

“What else am I supposed to think when you go from lord to lord like a marionette whose strings had been cut?” He paused, taking in her dishevelled appearance. “I was not aware how these Dornishmen could name someone so ruthless and so debauched as their Princess.” 

“And I didn’t know you Targaryens go around crowning bastards just to keep your house on the Throne,” she spat, making sure to rest her gaze on his dark eyes and on his brown locks long enough.

“You whore–!”

Before Jacaerys could finish his sentence, Y/n's palm collided with his cheek in a stinging slap, his head snapping to the side. His eyes widened, more in shock than pain, as his hand instinctively rose to the reddening mark on his face.

“A whore? A savage? A goatfucker?” Y/n's voice trembled with fury. “Is that all you see me as?” She shoved him hard, sending him stumbling backward until his back hit the wall. Her finger jabbed into his chest with every word. “You,” she spat, “should be thanking me for getting my hands dirty, persuading those lords to join your petty war!”

Jacaerys was stunned into silence momentarily, feeling every ounce of her rage bleeding through her words.

“And who told you to do that on your own?” Jacaerys shot back. “You could have asked me, we could have gone together and spoken to them like it is expected of us!”

“You overestimate yourself,” she scoffed, narrowing her eyes at him. “Do you even know what those lords think of you? Of your family? If it weren’t for our betrothal, they would have driven a spear through your chests without a second thought. Because to them, you Targaryens are nothing but bloodthirsty murderers who’ve come to take our lands all over again.”

“Enough!” Jacaerys grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her, slamming her against the wall. “You think I do not know that? You think I do not feel it every time I step into a room? The way they look at me? At my family? You think I enjoy being the enemy?” He seethed, feeling his throat grow raw with each word. “Gods, you are infuriating,” he grunted, realising how close their faces were to one another. 

The Princess’ lips curled into a smirk, a flicker of satisfaction lingering in her eyes. She had struck a nerve, realising how Jacaerys was always quick to react to whatever blasphemous speech she had to say about his family, and once again, she had managed to unleash the dormant wrath that blinded his actions. 

As the Princess found herself cornered between his arms and the wall, she crouched low, slipping beneath his arms in a fluid motion and spinning around to pin Jacaerys against the wall, pressing her chest to his back. Jacaerys reacted instinctively, kicking off the wall to shove her back. The sudden force sent her stumbling as she crashed on the ground, and he followed, landing on top of her in a tangle of limbs.

Just as he was about to stand up, Y/n yanked him back down and rolled on top of him, keeping him in place by locking her thighs around his waist and pinning his arms on the floor with one swift movement. Truth be told, Jacaerys could have easily pushed her away as her usual strength was halved by the wine; yet he remained still, feeling the warmth of Y/n’s body pressed into his, and how their faces were inches apart yet again, her breath hot on his skin.

Once again, he found himself under her mercy.

She stared down at him with half-lidded eyes and lips slightly open as she breathed lightly, taking in the sight of Jacaerys’ flushed face and his gaze clouded by desire. Jacerys looked up at her and gulped, feeling his erection stirring uncomfortably beneath his breeches.

His eyes locked onto her plump lips and trailed towards to the hollow of her neck, down to her chest. He stared hungrily as she leaned towards him, his fingertips itching to explore the skin hidden beneath the fabric of her dress. As she got closer and closer to his face, Jacaerys’ breath hitched, and without realising it, his lips parted slightly as his eyes fluttered shut in anticipation. His pulse quickened, waiting for the warmth of her lips pressing against his.

But instead of the kiss he craved, he felt the hot caress of her breath graze the shell of his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. Her voice, low and smooth, held him captive with each honeyed word.

“If you want to win this little war of yours, you better start by respecting me,” she whispered as she let go of one of his wrists and began tracing delicate patterns with her finger. “Just because I’ve chosen you as my betrothed doesn’t mean I won’t change my mind,” she bucked her hips against his hardened cock, causing Jacaerys to groan at the sudden spark of pleasure coursing in his veins. 

In that very moment, Y/n had uncovered yet another emotion—the primal desire that, despite her infuriating attitude, she had managed to set ablaze. If Jacaerys had to ask himself how it happened, he wouldn’t know where to begin answering. Had it all started when they first met, when she held little regard for him? Was it in the arena, when she brazenly humiliated him in front of everyone? Or was it the fact that they always seemed to find themselves pointing a blade at each other’s throats? Behind all that anger and hatred, and the prejudice that blinded him from seeing the Princess as she truly was, lay a spark of curiosity. Something he knew that once he began to explore, that spark would turn into wildfire.

With each passing second, he fought against the temptation to place his hands on the curve of her hips and make her grind herself against his cock.

“Remember, my Prince,” she purred in his ear, bucking her hips once again. “The wedding has not taken place yet, and anything could happen.” 

A/N: For some reason, i keep beating my wordcount record. istg my fanfic wc is way bigger than all of my uni papers combined, and bare in mind i was a humanities student lmfaooo.

anyway, i feel like this chapter was a mess. jace's patience continuously getting tested by everyone, and our reader making things even harder for him. i actually feel sorry for those two but the way they are handling things is not very demure, mindful or cutesy. we got the exact opposite.

Taglist: @happinessinthebeing @deltamoon666 @dark1paradise @elz-zalarrr @v0dka4a (continued in comments)

[sorchathered]

It would’ve been you

Pairing- Bob Floyd x female reader

Summary- you’d finally admitted your feelings to Bob, the only problem? He doesn’t remember any of it, and now he’s got a new girlfriend.

Warnings- angst, a little bit of smut, Bob being a dummy, reader also being a dummy.

A/N- Hey babies! Let’s celebrate me finally getting back to the states with a new fic I wrote (one of three) on my 14 hour flight last night, not beta read, fuck it we ball. 😂😂

———————————————————————

Bob’s new girlfriend was awful.

No really she was. Natasha had been sending you emails for weeks about how bad things had become, and until you’d stepped back on shore you had scarcely believed it yourself.

It had been twelve weeks since you left for your special detachment. Twelve weeks since you drunkenly fell into bed with your best friend Robert Floyd.

You’d had a party at you and your roommate Natasha’s, sort of a “good luck hope you don’t die” drunk fest as your front seater Jake Seresin liked to call it. Too many drinks were had and inhibitions were pretty much non existent by the end of the night, Bob offering to help you clean up which resulted in drunken confessions of love and hands roaming bodies until the early morning hours.

It has been perfect, messy, but perfect. You’d scarcely hoped he felt the same and had been holding a candle for him for an embarrassingly long time. When you woke that morning you were in a lavender haze of ooey gooey feels, sneaking out of your room to shower and pack your things as you thought about what might be in the future for the two of you when you made it back from the mission.

But when Bob woke up with the hangover of the century and didn’t remember a single bit of the night before? Everything went to shit. You were too embarrassed to tell him the truth, if he didn’t remember then maybe it didn’t mean what you thought it had meant, and maybe he hadn’t been ready to cross that line with you after all. So you bottled it all up, pushing forward with the mission and kept contact to a minimum. He never said it but he knew something was off, you never missed an email when he wrote and lately you’d all but ignored him entirely.

About 6 weeks into your deployment, Nat hit you with a bomb you never expected- Bob had started seeing someone. You let it all out in your bunk, cried until your tears could have floated the carrier you were on and then some. You should have said something, you knew that now, and it was too little too late.

When you made it back Nat was bursting at the seams to give you all the gossip, you weren’t ready to hear it but she was quite literally bouncing on her toes to give you the tea so you settled in after a shower and let her blab.

“She’s awful y/n!!! Some wannabe instagram influencer who is on her phone constantly and oh my god she is rude!! She puts on this sweet little angel vibe for Bob but as soon as he leaves the room she’s like Cruella de Vil with blonde hair. I’m totally convinced she only wants to be with him for the military girlfriend vibes, she posts all these pictures of them together and tags them with little stupid hashtags about how she’s a military girlfriend and blah blah blah.” She says with a scowl as she pretends to fake wretch and you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Is he happy with her?” You ask quietly, too afraid to look in her eyes, she’s too perceptive for her own good though; she’s known something changed between the two of you but hadn’t been able to place it.

“Honestly? He looks miserable, he hasn’t seemed like himself since you blew out of the house the morning of your deployment without so much as a goodbye. I don’t know what happened and I won’t ask, but I think you two need to talk. He misses you.” She took your hand in hers and gave you a kind smile, she was a bulldog in her field but she was the kindest soul you’d ever met. “I miss him too Natty, I really do.”

Bob had really liked Lauren in the beginning, she seemed like such a sweet girl, her socials full of pictures of her rescuing dogs and going on adventures, he could really see a future for them. But then she started only wanting to hang out when he was at the bar with his navy friends, always on her phone posting pictures of him in uniform, and bragging on her tiktok about being a Navy pilot’s girlfriend when that wasn’t even really what he did and she never seemed to listen enough to actually care about getting to know him for who he was. It had become exhausting, and he couldn’t talk to the person he wanted to the most because it felt like you’d completely ghosted him over the past few weeks. Bob was at a loss, he didn’t know what had changed between the two of you but as soon as Natasha announced to the group chat everyone was going to dinner to celebrate you and Hangman making it home he only had one thing on his mind- corner you and find out what the hell he’d done to piss you off.

When he got to the Hard Deck that night everyone was already in full party mode, drinks and pizzas littered the back wall of the bar as everyone danced along to Rooster’s rendition of “Benny and the Jets” on the piano, you perched right by his side singing the harmony and bursting into giggles as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. You were breathtaking, you always had been to Bob but he’d never had the courage to tell you how he felt, always burying it when the feelings bubbled up in his chest. He was glad he hadn’t brought Lauren with him, he couldn’t clear the air between the two of you with her around, and honestly he was still wondering if he even wanted to continue a relationship with her in the first place. He would unpack all of that later, the song had ended and you’d noticed he was staring at you, your skin flushing bright red at his gaze.

You knew he’d be here, but even after weeks away you weren’t sure you were ready to face him. Did he remember what happened? Did it change anything? It certainly had to you, how could it not? You’d admitted your deepest feelings for him and then had the best sex of your life, only for him to completely forget it ever happened. It was devastating, but there wasn’t any way to avoid him so better to just rip the bandaid off now and get it over with. You sat your empty beer down on a nearby table and made your way to where he was perched at the bar, ginger ale and peanuts occupying his hands as he looked you over with a nervous smile.

“Hey.” Oh god really? Hey? That’s all you could come up with? You cringed internally at the waver in your tone, you can be held responsible for millions of dollars of military tech but Bob Floyd is somehow the Achilles heel in your confidence? Jesus.

“Hi” he said softly and smiled back at you, “we’ve missed you around here, you didn’t answer any of my letters and I was starting to get worried about ya.” He fiddled with the top of the plastic cup holding the peanuts and tried to look anywhere but in your eyes, this was already the most awkward conversation he’d ever had and that was saying something for him.

“Look, Bob I don’t want to prolong this but I get it ok? We all do stupid things when we’re drunk and I won’t hold it against you. I heard you have a new girlfriend and I’ll respect that, I just…I need some time. I meant every word of what I said to you that night and if you just said it back to be kind-“

“Whoa hold on a minute, what are you talking about honey?” He thrust a hand out to catch yours and watched horror cross your face, what the hell had he done?!

“Oh-oh my god. You still don’t remember. Fuck, I- I’m sorry Bob I can’t do this right now.” You all but ran from him towards the back door and out into the night, you were fairly certain you were going to throw up or pass out. Maybe both.

Bob’s head was swimming, he stood up to follow you and had a moment flash behind his eyes. You beneath him, arms around his neck as the two of you ground into each other in your bed. He’d thought that had been a dream…it had been…right? The more he tried to think of it the more the memories came back, watching you come undone beneath him as you cried out your love for him, his hands tangled in your hair as he made the same confession. Natasha came up behind his rigid form to press a hand to his shoulder and he jerked back with a gasp, deep blue eyes wild and filled with panic. “Hey, whoah! Easy Bob, what’s going on?” She put both hands on his biceps as if to steady him but it couldn’t stop the room from spinning.

I-I’ve gotta get outta here Phoenix, did you see where y/n went? I royally screwed things up I have to see if I can fix it before it’s too late.”

She pointed towards the back door and he was bolting for it before she could say anything else, he couldn’t believe how much of a fool he’d been.

You were crouched in the sand a hundred feet or so from the bar, gasping in deep breaths as tears clouded your vision, head in your hands and body shaking. You should have just said something the morning after it happened, why didn’t you just tell him then? He still didn’t remember and if he didn’t remember then it must’ve not meant anything to him, now he was with someone else and your chance had all but evaporated. Had you completely lost him now? You didn’t know if you could bear not having him in your life, even if he wasn’t in love with you, losing your closest friend would be too much to bear.

“Y/n?” You heard him say softly behind you, he had always had an uncanny ability to sneak up on people and you supposed you should’ve known he’d come. He was the kindest person you knew, even if something made him uncomfortable he still worried about others. Selfless.

You swiped the tears away as best as you could before you stood and looked at him but it was no use, the second you locked eyes the tears were back.

“Robby, fuck I’m so sorry. I should’ve brought it up the morning after it happened but I-“

“I didn’t remember. And you thought it best to leave it be.”

“Y-yes” you said shakily, and you saw anger flash across his handsome features, a look you weren’t used to seeing from your beloved WSO.

“Damnit y/n! All that time wasted! If-if I’d’ve just known-“ he was shaking his head in frustration and you realized with a shock that he may not have remembered- but he meant what he said.

“Wait- wait, are you saying you meant it?” You said with a whisper, Bob looking at you incredulously like you’d grown three heads or something ridiculous.

“Is that what you’re worried about? That I didn’t… Jesus of course I meant it! How could I not? I think I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you and I feel cheated now! I’ve had you in my arms, kissed you, made love to you and I don’t remember it, but the worst part is knowing that you kept this from me. We could’ve been together this whole time! I’ve been pissing my time away with a girl who couldn’t give a rats ass about me and you’ve been right here all along.”

You were so sure he’d said it in a drunken mistake, braced for the worst that it wasn’t registering that he was telling you everything you wanted to hear, tears still spilling from your eyes as you blinked up at him, and a sound of frustration escaped his mouth as he yanked you into his arms, pressing kisses to your forehead and cheeks, and you melted into him as it finally settled in that this was real.

He took your face in his hands as he tipped your head up to look at him, swiping the tears away with his thumbs while you tried to bring yourself back down from the meltdown.

“Damnit girl it’s always been you, I don’t know how you could’ve thought otherwise.”

You laughed out at your stupidity and leaned up into him as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Now listen, I want to do this right, so before I let myself drown in you like I want I have something I need to do. Stay right here, wait for me.” He kissed you again and released you, already missing his warmth you let out a whine.

He chuckled and swiped a loose curl behind your ear, “in order to make love to you like I want, I have to speak to Lauren. I want a clean slate for us baby, give me a few minutes and I promise after this I’m yours until you’re sick of me.”

“Never gonna happen” you said with a grin and he mirrored you with a brilliant smile of his own.

He had a renewed confidence he hadn’t felt in months as he made his way back inside to get his phone, passing Hangman by the dart board with his arm braced against the wall and a very familiar blonde haired woman shamelessly flirting with him.

Doing a double take he confirmed with a laugh that is was in fact his girlfriend trying to shoot her shot with Jake Seresin and oddly enough it didn’t even surprise him.

“Hey Seresin, glad to see your back.” He said with a smack on the golden haired aviators back, Jake cocking his head to the side with a smirk.

“Baby on Board! Good to see ya, glad to be back home. This is- uhh I’m sorry sugar I don’t know that I got your name” he said gesturing towards the girl and she looked at Bob like a deer in headlights.

“Lauren, her name is Lauren. By the way, whatever was going on with you and me? It’s over sweet pea. I think you two will be very happy together, you like TikTok right Hangman? She’s real big into all that influencer shit. Anyways, you two have a good night, I’ve got somewhere else to be.” He said as he walked off winking at Natasha as she cackled from her perch near the group.

He bounded out into the sand to find you right where he let you, lighter than air as he looped an arm around your waist and pulled you in to kiss you like he’d wanted. You gasped into his mouth as he nipped at your bottom lip and slid his tongue into your mouth to taste you. It was perfect, all your little sweet noises as you grasped at his collar and rubbed your body against his.

“Robby” you gasped out as his lips drifted down your jaw and to your neck and he felt lightheaded over all of it. “What’s on your mind baby” he said as he smiled against your skin and you shivered in his arms. “Take me home? I think- I think we need a do over. Want you so bad.” He couldn’t think of anything better, tossing you over his shoulders as you shrieked and giggled he carried you to the parking lot and placed you gently in the passenger seat of his old beat up truck.

“Let’s get you home sugar, we’ve got a lot of time to make up for, hope you weren’t planning on sleepin’ tonight, I don’t know that I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself.”

You all but crawled into his lap in the bench seat as you ran your hands through his sandy blonde hair,

“I love you. Don’t you dare keep your hands to yourself, want you to love on me until we can’t move anymore, take me home and make me yours.”

And he did. Six months later when he put a ring on your finger it was a surprise to absolutely no one, he’d always pick on you for hiding the truth and you’d never let him live it down that he had forgotten making love to you in the first place. It seemed so silly now looking back on it, knowing you two were meant to be. He’d always been the one, and now he always would be.

———————————————————————

🏷️ tagging people who might be interested- @attapullman @bobfloydsbabe @bobgasm @roosterforme @seitmai @jessicab1991 @sebsxphia @fandom-princess-forevermore @nerdgirljen @lenafromthenordiccoven @sio-ina-bottle @sunsetsimpsblog @auroralightsthesky

If I missed anyone I’m sorry I’m running on three hours of sleep 😭

[megumishotgf]

more and more (jjk mainly) fic recs (pt. iii)♡

hello and welcome to more of my fic recs!! credit to all these talented writers, pls check out their other works too!! featuring: (jjk) megumi, yuuji, satoru, suguru, toji (mha) katuski (lmao just for the one post because it NEEDED to be shared) masterlist recs pt. i pt. ii

: ̗̀➛ megumi fushiguro x reader

megumi thinks about how whipped (he is while impatiently waiting for you to text back)

fucking megumi in his baseball uniform (lengthier fic with dom! megumi... omg)

sharing a bed and cuddling (so soft i'm crying. i'm unsure if i've linked this before)

racer a.u. w/ bf megumi (in physical agony because i need this)

megumi is obsessed with yuuji's bimbo gf (i love LOVE love bimbo reader fics AHH)

: ̗̀➛ satoru gojo x reader

your kid shows you an ugly drawing (similar to the katsuki scenario i linked last time, so funny!!)

satoru comforts you after you have a nightmare (so fluffy and sweet... i'm bawling)

age gap w/ satoru, he teaches you to fuck (younger reader. god i love this)

satoru proposes to you :(( (i'm crying)

satoru fucking his chubby gf (help my pussy's gone crazy)

more satoru w/ chubby gf (so so much praise)

: ̗̀➛ geto suguru x reader

arguing with then fucking your ex suguru who is now a cult leader (omfg)

suguru fingers you during movie night w/ satoru and shoko (wow this fic definitely hit the spot. one of my favourites on this list)

'no one's made me cum before' (now this is relatable)

you're babysitting nanako + mimiko and are about to fuck their dad (ahhhhhh)

y/n is insecure and can't tell suguru ('it's not what he's made for' some heavy angst for the sick fucks that enjoy it)

step brother! suguru teaches you how to kiss (this damn fandom makes me read so much stepcest. disgusting! *saved immediately*)

suguru wonders if he should cut his hair (fluffy!! but the last line made me want to burst into tears!!)

: ̗̀➛ toji fushiguro x reader

smutty fic w/ crybaby reader (it's me i'm the crybaby. this author has SO many good toji fics, i linked one of their prison bf fics last time!!)

toji is so so big but he makes it fit (major size kink!!)

: ̗̀➛ yuuji itadori x reader

finally fucking roommate! yuuji (i am shocked this doesn't have more likes it was such an incredible read)

virgin! yuuji headcanons (he's just so whiney and such a good boy. omg i love fics where y/n is the more experienced one)

giggly sex drabble (the best type of sex i need more fics like this)

yuuji can't jack off to jennifer lawrence anymore because of YOU! (i think this initiated a yuuji phase for me...)

: ̗̀➛ katsuki bakugou x reader

gq couples quiz w/ katsuki (i am shocked this doesn't have ten thousand likes. it's perfect the characterisation is perfect. pls check out the creator's masterlist here everything is so so good)

multiple characters (jjk drabbles)

using your safe word (satoru + suguru)

boyfriend texts (satoru, suguru, kento, toji, megumi, yuuji, toge + choso)

riding, missionary or doggy? (satoru, suguru, kento, toji, choso. btw the right answer is doggy)

bf texts (satoru, suguru, kento, toji, choso, megumi, toge + yuuji)

unholy drabbles!! (toji, satoru + kento)

cute texts during your period!! (satoru, choso, toji, megumi, yuuji, toge)

: ̗̀➛ also multiple characters (drabbles w/ unspecified names then characters listed at the end? i don't know how to describe this sorry lol)

eating you out sloppily omg (aot + jjk + genshin + demon slayer)

tits, ass or thighs? (bleach + jjk + jjba + one piece + csm)

men that are obsessed with thick women (jjk + kny + aot + tokyo revengers)

general fucking headcanons (jjk + aot + haikyuu + tokyo revengers + genshin + sk8 + csm)

quick question!! should i still link the really successful fics / blogs (like 4k+ notes, some have up to 15k!!), as i'm sure you will have already encountered them in their respective tags? in other words, should i focus on linking fics that are less interacted with? pls let me know <3

[verysium]

BLUE LOCK REVERSE ICKS 😳

😭 i read this as blue lock icks and was about to drag them all through the dirt with a brutally honest character review. but anyways, reverse icks is still a good idea, so here you go anon:

rin has abandonment issues. now before u come for me, let me explain. ever since sae left him, he's been hesitant to let anyone back into his heart, and that's why you mean so much to him. his hand automatically reaches for yours in the crowd so you don't get separated. when he has nightmares and dreams of you leaving, he wakes up, patting frantically on your side of the bed until he finds your body and relaxes. hugs you as if he'll never let go and buries his face into the crook of your neck and just whispers "thank fucking god." and you can see his chin wobbling as he struggles so hard not to cry, but deep down you know he's a very sensitive soul and you're quite literally his whole world.

sae's entire character is a reverse ick. have you not seen that man? he is beautiful. but i'll give u a little scenario: sae attends a charity gala, and you're invited as his plus one. you're busy getting ready in the bathroom, and he just leans against the doorframe, breath hitching when he sees you all dolled up in your fancy dress. coughs to hide his blush when you turn around and ask him for help. creeps behind you silently, his hot breath grazing your nape as his deft fingers reach for your zipper. his hands are callused and gentle when they clasp the back of your necklace (the one he bought for you), and the cold metal contrasts with the warmth of his hands on your shoulders. his heart is beating so fast that his fingers tremble and struggle with his tie, so you fix it for him but when your gaze travels back up his face, you catch him staring down at you, his eyes filled with an intense emotion. your gesture of kindness reminds him of his mother and how he hasn't gone back home in ages and how blessed he is by the gods to have you in his life.

kaiser does the hair tuck thing where he kisses a strand of your hair and smooths it behind your ear. he tries so hard to be a suave and charming gentleman, but honestly he's just an awkward loser. screams like a girl when you watch horror movies together and hugs you so tightly you think your lungs might burst. but then he gradually quiets down and falls asleep in your arms, and you think maybe he's not so bad. he canonically is not a morning person, so when he wakes up, he has the homeless cut 2.0 with the wild bed head and groggy facial expression. also has a weird habit of walking around the house naked. in any other situation, you would've yelled at him to put some clothes on, but his physique was looking extra good today, and you sort of got distracted. he definitely noticed and not-so-subtly flexed his biceps. always tries to make you laugh even though his pick-up lines are terrible and he can't tell a good joke to save his life.

nagi sometimes wakes up before you and pulls your body closer to him. on most occasions though, it's you who wakes up before him and he drags you back to bed. he hates it when you work late and hovers above you like a phantom, waiting for you to finally finish and go cuddle with him. if it gets to the point where you fall asleep while working, he will tuck you into bed and kiss you goodnight. the next morning, you find all your work finished, albeit in poor handwriting. in all honesty, nagi is a genius, and he tries hard for you and only you. if any other person asked them to finish their work, he would've flat-out rejected them.

isagi is good with children but often at his own expense. unsuccessfully tries to make a baby laugh but ends up getting distracted and slamming face first into a telephone pole. now that made the baby start giggling, and he just smiled through tears with a red bump on his forehead, insisting that he was alright and didn't just knock his two front teeth loose. whenever he babysits your siblings/cousins, he ends up doing all the grueling work like changing diapers, taking out the trash, cleaning up after the gremlins. and yet the children will still favor you and not him. tries to act like he's not heartbroken but boy did that sting a little too much.

barou buys you flowers. has a big stupid blush on his big stupid face and refuses to admit that his heart skips a beat every time you look at him. does that thing where he looks the opposite way to pretend like he's not interested before shoving a bouquet into your hands. he's also very protective. holds your hand when you cross the sidewalk so you don't get run over. holds the door open for you every time. tried to make those origami hearts for you, but his fingers are thick and stubborn, and he stayed up all night in a fit of rage because he's not used to delicate work like this. you ended up getting a lopsided piece of crumpled paper that barou insisted was a heart, and you agreed because why would you hurt his feelings?

chigiri knows how to braid your hair. makes you sit in front of the mirror while his slender fingers carefully brush the soft strands. he can get complex too. dutch braids. french braids. fishtail braids. also does that cheesy couple tradition where he braids a piece of his own hair with yours as a symbol of love. most people don't know this, but he's actually a crackhead. sometimes when you're walking down the street, he'll do impersonations of the various people he sees. the old lady at the laundromat. the two aunties at the flower shop. the fisherman near the boardwalk. he even imitated your dad once, and you nearly lost it. he's too funny guys, but you need a sophisticated sense of humor to understand him.

and that's about it. sorry this was so short anon, but my brain is dessiccated this week.

[solecize]

  𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (5)

ten years of being one and the same with jungkook as the country's it couple is the perfect disguise for the reality of a tumultuous relationship hidden behind the scenes.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: a ㅤㅤㅤ year of a death of a thousand cuts because, no matter what comes your way, saying goodbye is never an option. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: idol!jungkook/female idol!reader and fictional versions of various idols 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. idol au, on-and-off relationship, angst, i swear there's fluff, fake dating, and themes of first love, growing up, struggles with fame, and marriage (ish) 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. portrayal of a toxic couple (implications of emotional abuse and control), both main characters are very flawed, violence, infidelity, foul language, substance use (illegal drugs) 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. based off of "you're losing me" by taylor swift. this is a fictional portrayal of real-life people that implement some aspects of real-life events. extra warning for violent acts in a relationship (throwing objects at the wall) ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤjoin the taglist here! ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤm.list | previous | next

stop, you're losin' me

i can't find a pulse

my heart won't start anymore

TOP HEADLINE TODAY: new kbs variety show announced - first mc revealed to be s.irens' novaㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   january 2017

the memories of bora bora stuck to you like maple syrup on your hands for years. it was a haunting notion to consider the trip the beginning of the end. you remember the way the golden sand stretched out across the water for what felt like forever, as it shimmered and sparkled under the relentless sun. you could hear jungkook’s laughter echoing in your ears like a melody of a song that looped in your head. the sharpest image of that week glared at you angrily - the first serious fight that you ever got into with your boyfriend.

it was a given that you and jungkook butted heads like any other long-term couple, but you found yourself stomping away to nayoung’s hotel room at the end of the third night with a bundle of clothes in your hands and tear-stained cheeks.

when she swung the door open, her heavy lids indicated that she was about to burst into a complaint about you waking her up. instead, nayoung’s eyes jolted open when they read the expression on your face. 

“what happened?” she asked.

you fought a wail, making sure to shove any sort of crying down your throat because god knows you would never stop if you started. nayoung frowned and opened the door wider, gesturing for you to come in. 

her room was always messy at the dorms and you weren’t shocked to find her hotel room in a similar state of disarray. however, it beat the way you trashed the room you’d been sharing with jungkook.  clothes on the floor, random objects hurled at the wall, and even a lamp abandoned on the floor. the anger you felt was unlike anything you’d ever felt before. you admitted this to nayoung, who looked at you like you had two heads.

“yeah, we fought and i may have knocked some things over. . . “

your temperament was definitely an issue to be discussed, but in your eyes, there were more pressing problems to address. when nayoung made room for you to sit on the left side of the bed, you immediately tucked yourself under the covers and let a few tears stream down your face. 

she frowned. “what were you guys fighting about?”

“jungkook thinks that i’m always too focused on work,” you explained, swiping at your face. “he said i don’t make enough time for him.”

at this point, you were four years into debut and permanently stuck in the fast lane. a few major events occurred in your career recently that changed the trajectory of your group’s popularity - the first being the departure of miseul. it was an unfortunate situation, as she requested the termination of her contract to go back to her hometown, where her grandmother was ill. the company then replaced her with a new girl, cara, who you did not get along with. there was no choice in the matter, though, and your group’s first comeback with the new lineup happened earlier that year.

another signficant dynamic change was nayoung’s quick rise to stardom as an actress. she’d starred in a drama that was one of the most popular of all time on mbc and as a result, grew in popularity that arguably surpassed your group. she had endorsements and jobs coming left and right, which was prioritized by your company over the group’s endeavours. 

it was a bitter feeling, being overshadowed by both your own group mate and boyfriend, but you instead focused on working harder and taking on every project you could. even with bts’ growing status and schedules, you found yourself making less and less time for jungkook and his argument was that he always did more for the relationship than you did.

“focused on work? we’re literally on vacation.” nayoung sighed, coming into bed with you. “i’m glad you’re here, though, y/n. i feel like i haven’t seen you since we landed.”

agreeing to the bora bora trip was a reluctant decision, as it was originally just supposed to be a composition of your and jungkook’s friends. you only wanted to bring nayoung and sooah, until the latter convinced you to ask cara to tag along, since they didn’t want to leave her out. the trip was intended to be the time for you to bond with jungkook, but you were now put into a position to also bond with your group members, especially since things hadn’t really been the same with the girls since miseul left. 

“nayoung, we’re still friends right?” you asked meekly, feeling pathetic even as you said it.

her shoulders dropped and she pulled you into an embrace. “of course we are! why would you say that?”

“ever since we stopped living with each other and since miseul left. . .” you trailed off, tearing away. “i feel like the group sees each other as just coworkers or something.”

you were now twenty years old and experiencing life independently. the same was said for your group mates, as you were all now off doing your own things and only reuniting once or twice a year for a comeback. at some point, you considered these girls sisters. now, those feelings felt miles away. even the bora bora trip felt forced. 

“y/n,” nayoung’s tone grew serious. “i’m always going to be here for you.”

this would be the last time that s.irens would spend time together outside of work. sooah and nayoung’s relationship soured over the years to the point where they no longer spoke by 2020 - a result of merely growing up and growing out of childhood friendships. you also began building resentment against nayoung, who would become the country’s it girl in no time and stopped publicly acknowledging that she was in a girl group. you eventually no longer considered her a friend, deciding you did not want her arrogance in your life. miseul only texted you once a year to say happy birthday. this was the breakdown of the only support system you had. 

when morning came after staying up until dawn with nayoung, you found yourself sneaking back into your and jungkook’s shared hotel room. you were surprised to see that he was not in bed, but felt a salty breeze stream in from the balcony.

  you stepped forward and saw jungkook sitting down, eyes fixed on the aquamarine of the beach ahead. when you opened the door wider to let yourself out, he already knew it was you.

  “i’m sorry, bug,” he immediately said, too ashamed to look at you.

  you were convinced that it was your hothead that drove the majority of the argument and his apology made your heart sink. you were the one who threw things at the wall and spiralled without looking back. he shot back with his own words, but you knew that you were the one who started it.

  without warning, you sat right beside jungkook and wrapped your arms around his back. you put your chin on his shoulder and he physically relaxed, as if he’d been carrying sandbags for days. you whispered an apology against his neck and held back tears.

  “you’re right. i’ve been a horrible girlfriend.” you hated how bitter the words tasted. “i’m going to do my best to fix my work-life balance. you try so hard for me.”

  TOP HEADLINE TODAY: the 2017 edition of the idol star ahtletic competition now filming in goyang!ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤjanuary 2017

  you never felt at fault for your hot temper when jungkook’s jealous eye followed you like a lost puppy. it was just as much as a problem as your own shortcomings and it always felt like a battle of who’s more in the wrong between you two.

  everyone looked forward to each year’s edition of the idol star athletic championsips, a kind break amidst the hustle and bustle of a regular schedule. some of the more active idols took the games quite seriously, but for you and the rest of s.irens, it was several days of filming that were ultimately far more chill than any of your regular promotional activities. coming off the bora bora trip, a little relay race was next to nothing in terms of effort. 

  your group’s event was the last of the day, which left you and nayoung wandering around the goyang gymnasium for the meantime. you were texting jungkook to see if he was also free, when nayoung was called over by some individuals. 

  it was in a tent area away from the view of the spectators and cameras, which you were grateful for at an event where fans watched idols like hawks.

  “nayoung! and nova!”

  exo’s leader was known in the community to be charming and well-spoken, which didn’t surprise you when you found yourself struck immediately. you’d seen him around and of course watched him on television and online, but you could now see up close just how different the aura of a top boy group was. beside him was his fellow group members and participants for the archery event later that day, who were sehun and chanyeol.

  “y/n, this is junmyeon and sehun and chanyeol,” nayoung introduced, beaming. it seemed like her rise in popularity meant that she had begun rubbing elbows with a-list idols like exo.

  you mirrored her smile. “nice to meet you all. y/n is fine, just call me that,” you insisted, as the three of you exchanged bows.

  unlike your fellow group members, you didn’t find yourself to be much of a social butterfly. you hung out with them and your boyfriend - occasionally your boyfriend’s friends. yet, somehow, others knew you. sehun asked if you were doing archery again this year, which you weren’t. junmyeon complimented your group’s last release. chanyeol mentioned running into miseul at the airport the other day. 

  as the pleasantries were made, the floor rumbled with the roar of fans across the stands. in the middle of the arena, the rhythmic gymnastics event was set to begin and all eyes were trained on the competition. that is, all eyes except junmyeon’s, whose own eyes remained fixated on you. it was a foreign sensation to feel your heart leap. 

  “excited for the day ahead?” strained chanyeol, struggling to be heard over the mcs talking. 

  nayoung replied, “yeah! i think our group has a good shot at the relay event!”

  that was false, since you knew sooah was prone to tripping and falling, but you kept that to yourself with a muffled snicker. 

  “it’s definitely going to be a long day. . .” sehun said, yawning. 

  nayoung blew some hair out of her face. “at least it’s only one day of filmng this year.”

  you enjoyed participating in isac each year, as it was mostly fun and games, but it was stressful knowing that cameras were constantly on you. each day of filming felt like the equivalent of a week when you anticipated random fancams of you on the internet the next day, probably doing mundane things like saying hi to a member of exid.

  junmyeon spoke, “it’s going to be a long day, but there’s a thing happening at kc lounge tonight after filming and a bunch of our team is going to be there. chanyeol reserved a whole section for us - you should come.” it took you a second to realize he was now boldly holding out his phone. 

  although the words were meant to address both you and nayoung, he was directly facing you and only looked at you when he asked. you were caught off guard, having trouble finding the words to respond. junmyeon’s eyes were soft and his smile was inviting - you weren’t an idiot. you knew when an invitation was beyond friendly. even nayoung was side-eying you, following the inquiry.

  “uhm - “

  “i’d love to see you there.” it was hard to miss the once over he gave you, as his boys let out a low whistle at his suaveness. you couldn't help but notice the pink tint spreading across your cheeks. 

  the attention felt nice. you’d never been approached so boldly by a senior idol before. and he was hot. you didn’t know what to say, except that you were lingering in this conversation for way too long than acceptable.

  thankfully, the vibration of your own phone interrupted whatever sentence you were to form next. with a glance at the screen, the picture of you and jungkook stared back at you and you were left dumbfounded. why was he calling you in the middle of a live event? 

  you said, “sorry, i think i’m being called.”

  nayoung nudged you, prompting you to turn around and see that jungkook was staring directly at you from a few tents away. his expression was stone-cold and eyes burned in your direction. realizing what it looked like to him with junmyeon basically asking for your number, you groaned. 

  “you think it’s safe for me to walk over there?” you muttered into nayoung’s ear, ignoring the curious stares of the three exo members in front of you. junmyeon had now slowly retracted his phone away, now also noticing jungkook looking your way. 

  nayoung looked around. “maybe if you walk behind the tents, up against the wall,” she suggested, not missing jungkook either. 

  it wasn’t too bad of timing either, since the competition was mid-event and most individuals were preoccupied with that. you wouldn’t have approached him in public otherwise. 

  junmyeon seemed to understand what was going on and he only offered a small smile. “well, let me know. we’re stuck here all day, anyway,” he chuckled.

  you thanked him and excused yourself, following nayoung’s direction to discreetly make your way over to jungkook’s tent. 

  other than him, a few members of bts lingered around the tent, presumably warming up for their event later on in the day. well, that’s what you thought they were doing before, as they were now looking towards you and jungkook, probably witnessing the same interaction as your boyfriend. jungkook’s arms were folded across his chest when you approached and you were already not in the mood.

  “meet me in that hall,” you said as quickly and loudly as you could, not wanting an audience. 

  you turned around without waiting for an answer and jungkook waited several beats before trailing behind, just in case. the two of you found yourselves in the tunnel leading into the main stadium area, which was thankfully empty. 

  you were surprised that jungkook’s fuse was triggered, as you two just shared a nice dinner date the night before with no issues. however, the more you thought about it, his jealousy issues were rising recently - from one wrong stare at a party by a monsta x member the other night to being asked out by a music producer that worked with s.irens.  each interaction was met with rage.

  “are you alright?” you questioned, once you were out of earshot and eyesight from anyone.

  “were they being weird to you?” jungkook instantly replied, jaw clenched.

  you furrowed your eyebrows. “what? no,” you said. “they were just being friendly - “

  “you should stay away from exo, i wouldn’t trust a lot of those guys.”

  “isn’t taehyung friends with some of them?” you dryly shot back, but he ignored your sentiment and continued ranting about how male idols weren’t to be trusted.

  obviously, you and him both knew what he was actually annoyed about. you stood your ground, as you knew you didn’t do anything wrong. it was a harmless interaction and you didn’t expect the entire idol community to know that you and jungkook were dating - well, actually, you kind of did and it was a little bit weird to get the invite in such a flirtatious way, but you were not going to take part. it was shut down immediately, but here you were. 

  after another minute of jungkook going on about the interaction, you interrupted him by abruptly placing a kiss on his cheek. he froze.

  “stop it. i’m fine. he was just being nice,” you sighed, looking around to make sure nobody was hiding in the shadows. “now, can we go back to our jobs, jungkook?”

  though your boyfriend was normally quite relentless about these things, your words did snap him back to the reality in which you were putting your very careers at risk to even have this hushed conversations in the shadows. isac was all fun and games, but you were on the clock with cameras in every corner possible. your slight touch of affection seemed to also help, as jungkook visibly eased when you kissed him on the cheek.

  he adjusted his sweatshirt and sighed. “alright. i’m sorry.”

  and that was the end of that conversation, but another faded memory lost in the chaos of 2017.

  TOP HEADLINE TODAY: the 2017 bts live trilogy episode III (final chapter): the wings tour to commence next weekㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤfebruary 2017

  the bland eggshell walls of the bighit entertainment headquarters didn’t faze you. at the very beginning, it was unsettling just how hollow the corridors and nooks appeared to be, as if the surroundings belonged in a prison. you’d been in and out of the hallways over the past years, albeit often for very few reasons that were pleasant. though it was a huge maze, you memorized the path on floor seventeen.

  upon hearing the loud ding and the metal doors sliding open with ease, you stepped onto the said floor with nothing less than pure anger bubbling in your veins. you clearly made your way up here — through traffic and past the security at the front desk who always mistook you for a crazed fan — with a purpose. you weren’t going to rest until you gave jeon jungkook a piece of your mind. releasing a long sigh, the employees who took a glance up and saw the infuriated expression on your face didn’t even bother stopping you. this had become routine.

  the distinct voices of his group members, combined with one of the group’s tracks amplified through speakers and footsteps squeaking on the hardwood floors in immaculate unison, were enough to tell you that he was here.

  “jeon jungkook.”

  the chorus to ‘spring day’ came to a sudden halt. hoseok was the first person to take notice of you and stopped dancing when you appeared at the doorway. the others noticed fast and when jungkook finally looked up, someone had already stopped the music.

  the look shared by his group mates seemed to read that they knew exactly what he was in trouble for. the prompt end of the music seemed to indicate so. a scared expression flashed on jungkook’s face upon reading your own stone-cold one.

  last time this happened was when you found a pack of cigarettes in one of your boyfriend’s jackets, after he swore up and down to you that he was quitting nicotine. another time was because of him forgetting that you had a date that night. today, the rage running through your veins was due to something new.

  jungkook visibly winced every time you said his full name aloud and here, he nearly shuddered at the sound. his head hung low, like a puppy. he knew what he did wrong this time.

  “i’ll be right back,” you heard him mutter to namjoon who could only nod empathetically, arms folded across his chest as he observed the scene.

  for jungkook’s sake, the group broke out into forced conversation to distract from the two of you. seokjin pretended to ask hoseok for help with the choreography and taehyung wanted to suddenly show the rest of the group a video on his phone. meanwhile, the youngest of the group wordlessly followed you out into the hallway.

  “where were you last night?”

  the question was immediate, not even waiting for jungkook to shut the door behind him. he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 

  jungkook asked, “did you really have to come all the way here to have this conversation with me?” exasperation laced his words like a bow, but you were unfazed.

  “well, clearly i don’t know when and where you’re busy,” you shot back, “so i had no choice but to come here.”

  he opened his mouth to speak again, but you cut him off by raising your phone to eye-level. on the screen was the private instagram of cha eunwoo, who posted several slides of content of cheonsa lounge in gangnam. the very first picture was him and jungkook, clutching a shot glass of dark liquor in one hand and a vape in another. upon scanning the screen, where you proceeded to move through the instagram post - one picture of jungkook posing with eunwoo and the bottle girls from the club and the next being jungkook holding a bottle of champagne - silence filled the air.

  jungkook’s shoulders drop in defeat. “i’m sorry, it was a last minute thing - “

  “how last minute?! i called you at ten last night, asking if we could have a movie night in,” you cut him off, “and you said you were feeling sick! you don’t look so sick in these photos, huh?”

  “i was feeling sick, i swear!” he exclaimed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “the boys called me an hour after that and guilt-tripped me into coming - “

  “oh, please.”

  jungkook huffed. “i’m telling the truth!””

  if you were being honest with yourself, it wasn’t a far-fetched idea that jungkook’s boys did, in fact, drag him out to the club the night before. regardless of that, you were more upset with the fact that he declined you, but said yes to his friends. 

  “is a night in with me too boring for you now?” you questioned, jaw clenched. “if you were going out, you could have at least asked me to come!”

  “you don’t have to come out every time with me, y/n, i need time with my friends,” he replied and sighed once more. 

  this made you even more mad. “when did i say you can’t have time with your friends?!” you didn’t like the fact that jungkook was making you out to be such a control freak.

  jungkook groaned. “i didn’t say that!”

  nothing had been the same since the bora bora trip earlier that year. sure, you and jungkook fought like any other couple, but it was never this bad and this frequent. it was as if the fight in the hotel was the first domino to a cascade of falls. coupled with your increasingly exhausting schedules and other factors affecting your relationship, such as your career-driven mindset that was prioritized over everything and bts’ rise to international fame, it was only natural that you and jungkook would only drift farther apart.

  yet, neither of you were ready to walk away. as you and jungkook continued your back and forth for several more minutes to come in the darkened hallway of bighit entertainment, you could hear the opening notes to spring day once more - his fellow members presumably giving up on waiting for him to return before resuming practice.

  i miss you, was the opening line to spring day and it physically hurt your heart to listen to, as jungkook stood just a few feet away from you and still seemed so far away. the two of you gave each other the silent treatment for the next week after.

  TOP HEADLINE TODAY: s.irens fans grow restless as the group's comeback is pushed once again, allegedly to accomodate main dancer go nayoung's filming schedule for mbc's 'far away' dramaㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   september 2017

  for once, you and jungkook were not getting hazy heads amidst the lights of a nightclub or a packed party, but a charity ball. held at the spacious estate of a member of the family behind hyundai, it was a sight to behold and made jungkook forget that he was in the middle of seoul. he found himself in the back gardens, underneath a marble gazebo that overlooked the lush flowers and twinkling lights of the area. they shone like stars, string lights that hung all around the gardens, and jungkook wished he could share this sight with you.

  things were fuzzy with you, but jungkook held out hope that you would be able to pick up the pieces and fix things soon. after a string of fights the past few months, you had finally reached your wits’ end. it was an imploding, inevitable time bomb that was going to set off sooner rather than later. you and jungkook were beginning to butt heads more than not and one random thursday night, it was d-day.

  there weren’t too many places in the city that would be safe for even just a normal stroll with your boyfriend, which was an unfortunate truth that jungkook had to swallow for years on end. more than anything in the world, he wanted to flaunt you to the whole world to show everyone just how lucky he was. he was so in love with you and that was never going to change.

  from the moment he met you, he was smitten with your beauty and the nail in the coffin was your addicting personality that he was so naturally in sync with. to have someone so incredibly bewitching as his best friend, all jungkook ever wanted to do was scream to the world that you were his girlfriend. 

  instead, your date nights since the turn of your early twenties consisted of outings like secluded nature walks, friends’ homes, long drives, and if you were careful, the corner store at night. maybe that was why jungkook loved enjoying the seoul nightlife with you - it was a safe space where you could be with each other and with each other, the most important thing other than pounding music and letting alcohol wash away your worries.

  your last date was no different, as jungkook suggested to take a walk along the han river. you had no qualms about the suggestion - though, evaluating the place as a date wasn’t the catalyst to your agreement. you knew that there was a conversation to be had and you could have done in anywhere at that point. it’d been over two weeks since you last saw each other, as missed opportunities sipped from your fingers to sit jungkook down and have a talk about your relationship with him.

  jungkook saw you from a mile away - it was hard not to when you were literally wearing one of his hoodies. even though it’d felt like forever since the dna promotions began taking over his life and you were off filming a drama, he could always spot you in a crowded room in just seconds. you were waiting by the water, looking off into the seoul night skyline. a black baseball cap hid most of your face and you were smoking a cigarette - a habit that you eventually picked up from jungkook, despite initially chewing him out for the unhealthy habit. you eventually decided that you were also too overworked to not have a vice.

  on the other hand, jungkook had been cold turkey for a whole month. he’d grown disappointed of himself for giving in so often on ruining his health, especially as a singer. a frown tugged at his lips when he approached you, just as you were finishing up.

  your eyes always brightened when you saw jungkook, but tonight, you saw something in his own that prevented it. offering a small smile, you walked closer up without a hint of a light in your eyes.

  “hi kookie,” you whispered and pulled him into a tight embrace. jungkook always loved your scent - a strong cinnamon and vanilla smell that warmed his heart, even on breezy autumn nights like this one.

  his face was in your hair, holding you just as tight, when he realized something. something odd.

  jungkook stepped half a foot apart when the hug concluded, examining your features. “there’s something wrong, isn’t there?” he asked, as the anxiety came to settle in after you chose to hug him instead of kiss kim.

  your lips pressed into a thin line and he knew. you insisted that you two hold hands during this walk, which he wanted to refuse, but eventually decided to remain quiet about it. hands clasped, you two began to stroll south of the river.

  for a bit, you and jungkook bantered about how you stole his hoodie without him even realizing it. then, an uncomfortable silenced emerged, as you both could only listen to the light stream of the han and the passing cars nearby. 

  it was jungkook that said something first.

  you let him speak freely because on any other day, it would be a battle marked by avoidance and stonewalling. jungkook had suddenly come to a stop in the middle of the path, after the silence became too grand for him. he reached his limit, too.

  “we should take a break.”

things had been getting weird for a while now between the two of you. you were always fighting and when you weren't fighting, it was when jungkook was overseas, away on the wings tour.

  that’s when your heart began racing. “a break? you want to separate?” 

  “we obviously can’t be together. this isn’t working out. we clash too much and we’re always screaming at each other and we’re risking our jobs and - fuck, i’m sorry.”

  the rant was cut short when jungkook, after pacing back and forth as he spiralled with each word, paused in his tracks at the sight of tears streaming abundantly down your cheeks. he stopped and immediately felt the ball of anxiety at the bottom of his stomach transfigure into a heavy dread accentuated by guilt, weighing heavy on the inside. his chest began hurting and apologies fell from his lips, as he took you right back into his arms.

  “i love you, i know it’s been hard, but we can’t break up,” you hiccuped in between each short breath, barely audible when your crying face was pressed up against jungkook’s chest. “do-do you really feel that way?”

  jungkook rapidly shook his head, not even taking time to think about it. “no, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it. i’m sorry!” he cooed, rocking you back and forth.

  after a moment of just crying from the two of you, you were finally able to catch your breath and rubbed jungkook’s back, hoping it would help him catch his. his breathing eventually slowed back to normal.

  “but, i think you’re right. . .” your voice suddenly emerged, barely above a whisper. “i don’t want to lose you. . .but we need space.”

  “i’d do anything to save this relationship,” jungkook replied and the statement brought you an unknown feeling, spreading across your mind. “whatever you think is best. i can’t lose my best friend - let’s take some time and come back stronger.”

  and that was the agreement. it had been just about a month since it happened and there was no progress since. your and jungkook’s schedules were busier than ever and it was only a coincidence that you both ended up at the same charity ball.

  for the first time in a long time, seeing you felt like remnants of a far away memory - shattered glass pieces of your relationship dancing in the air that, if jungkook tried hard enough, could be grasped at and remembered. your hair was now blonde and made longer with extensions, brushing just above your tailbone. you wore a periwinkle evening dress, soft satin mirroring the chandeliers on the high ceilings and fanned out into a flattering mermaid tail shape. jungkook hadn’t seen you with such makeup before, as you wore a cherry red lip and a sharp cateye. you looked different. . .good, but different.

  jungkook saw you in the foyer, mingling with some chaebols and looking bored. jungkook noticed that you came with sooah, presumably to represent s.irens or your company as a whole, but neither of you so much as looked at each other. jungkook grew worried that you were slowly isolating yourself from your friends. he was also worried that your bored eyes were instead tired eyes from such a hectic schedule.

  there wasn’t any way that jungkook was going to get your attention in that moment, so he instead carried on with his night as normal. he greeted friends, looked for opportunities to network, and helped himself to the fine wine. after an hour, he wandered outside to get some fresh air. then, he looked out at the beauty of the gardens and thought of you, as he strolled down the cobblestone path with a glass of red in one hand.

  he wasn’t sure how long he’d been pondering for under the gazebo, until he saw the time of his watch and realized that it was probably time for dinner to be served. jungkook sighed, stepping out of the gazebo to make his way back inside the manor, sneaking one more look at the calming moon and hoping to run into you at the party. 

  jungkook’s wishes were met sooner than expected, as he spotted you by a tucked away corner, smiling from ear to ear. he was taken aback to see the source of your giggling, being some guy he knew from the korean national football team. one of their best players, actually, as jungkook was quite a fan. he was one of the most popular athletes in the country, it was no surprise that he’d be brushing elbows with other a-listers at this charity ball. jungkook hand clenched into a fist, watching the two of you flirt away from everyone else.

  throughout your years together, jungkook was always a bit of a possessive type. in the way you were far from perfect, he also understood his own flaws. i mean there was quite a lot, like anyone else - he was also bad at communicating his feelings, often shutting down, and cared a lot about appearances.  

  none of that mattered in this moment, as he began walking straight toward you.

  in your defense, you genuinely believed that space meant that you were single. had you been the one to make a fuss about breaking up? yes, but. . .well, there was no but. it’d been years since you were able to prance around without the worries of a relationship and although you wanted jungkook back, it was admittedly freeing. 

  bae sejoon was the striker on the men’s national team and had been eying you since you walked into the estate. the two of you previously crossed paths at a lounge in gangnam a few months ago and now seeing that jungkook was not presently attached to your hip, he made the first move. it was hard to ignore - his coy smirk and athletic build that exuded masculinity. however, your only intentions were to simply ravel in the attention sejoon was willing to give to you.

  as soon as you arrived to the event, sooah already left to go greet some of her model friends in the main dining room. she didn’t ask you to join - you’d been drifting apart since the beginning of the year and moving out of the dorns. meanwhile, you planned to politely mingle with other guests, given that you were technically here because of work - despite wanting nothing more but to lay low and keep to yourself. 

  “well, maybe we should go together. can’t believe you’ve never been to the best cafe in all of seoul.”

  instead, you were batting your eyelashes at sejoon, who’d been going on about some french-style cafe that just opened up in the city. you didn’t think he was a particularly interesting guy, but he was cute. a cute distraction. 

  you said, “that sounds fun.”

  except, sejoon didn’t know that you stopped drinking coffee two years ago. he didn’t know that you found little coffee shops pretentious and too hipster-y for your liking. you forced a smile. 

  jungkook always got you pastries straight from one particular bakery. he remembered your matcha order word for word. he made fun of coffee shops that tried too hard to be different with you. he. . . . he was now right in front of you?

  you made it known to jungkook that you loved seeing him in all black. as the first kiss of autumn dawned upon seoul, he donned a long sleeve dress shirt and slacks. tailored and in the consistent shade of all black, the sight lit a fire in your stomach and you found yourself in a haze of how good he looked. 

  jungkook never hid how attracted he was to you, even after all these years of being together. he scanned your appearance from head to toe, licking his lips. it was as if there wasn’t a whole third person in your presence, as explicit images ran through both of your minds. it’d been so long since you saw each other and the tension in the air was like molasses. 

  “hi y/n,” jungkook greeted, not even looking sejoon’s way, until the other male cleared his throat. “am i interrupting something?” the glare jungkook sent sejoon was sharper than a blade.

  sejoon rolled his eyes, already realizing his defeat. “yes, actually,” he replied. 

  your eyes remained trained on jungkook until that moment, where you had to physically shake it off. 

  “jungkook, you know sejoon,” you began reluctantly, noticing jungkook’s hard planted feet.

  he only grunted in response, still not caring enough to say anything to sejoon and acknowledge him. 

  at this point, sejoon was over it. he looked at you and then at jungkook’s menacing figure, arms crossed and glare still fixed. it was as if you watched him calculating his odds during this conversation and decided there was no winning.

  sejoon turned to you, a crease in between his eyebrows. “nice chatting with you,” he said and solemnly walked away.

  you would have otherwise rolled your eyes at such a dramatic reaction if it weren’t for jungkook standing in front of you. everything about him was so mesmerizing, as the time away truly made the heart grow fonder. the smirk pressed against his lips showed that jungkook knew exactly what kind of effect he still had on you.

  “i’ve missed you,” were the words that fell out of your mouth, almost instantly, and you wanted to kick yourself. how pathetic.

  jungkook eyed you. “didn’t look like it just now,” he tried to be casual, but the sharpness in his voice was loud.

  “still as jealous as ever, huh?”

  your initial tactic was to play hard to get - even if you and jungkook had been together for years, it’d been so long since you could just flirt and tease him. it was a spark that’d been missing for quite some time now. a smile played mischievously on your lips.

  truthfully, this was what jungkook needed. he was initially despondent upon your agreement to give each other space, sulking for several days until work got too busy to be dwelling on emotions. the time away and seeing you look at another man sparked something in him, too. his lids grew heavy.

  he said, “so, this is what space means for you, huh?”

  jungkook sounded as angry as he was hungry. it set him off, as his gaze lowered further and further down your body. on any day he would be ticked off, but his feelings of frustrations today instead felt warm and inviting. you froze when he stepped closer towards you, close enough that you could simply speak in secrets. 

  “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” was all that could come out of your mouth in a heavy breath, too mesmerized to make any further attempts at wit.

  he was now just about nose to nose with you, but you couldn’t muster up the strength to meet his eyes.

  “you’re nervous.”

  “no, i’m not,” you said, edge in your voice.

  lying right through your teeth wasn’t the best strategy when jungkook could see past it like glass. you were happy to flirt and dish it out, but being so close to jungkook so suddenly left you at a loss for words. you forgot where you were for a second and when you realized that the two of you were in public, your heart began beating like a butterfly’s wings. despite this, he was bold. he didn’t move an inch, willing to risk it all. 

  jungkook let out a low chuckle. “you won’t look me in the eye. you’re nervous, baby.”

  “what do you want, jungkook?” you asked slowly.

  his gaze trailed back to where sejoon walked off to. “what was all that about?” he said.

  the answer was glaringly obvious to you, as jungkook innocently brushed a hair from your eyes and you resisted the urge to shudder at his touch. nothing in the world compared to this feeling.

  “honestly?” you began, as identical smirks began to form on both of your faces. “nothing. nothing at all.”

  that was all that needed to be said. jungkook, without tearing his eyes away from you, wordlessly took his phone out of his pocket and made a call. he licked his lips as he spoke and everything else in the world faded to grey. jungkook was a cascade of the colours of the rainbow, illuminating brighter and brighter like the sun until you were blinded from seeing anything else. he was a kaleidoscope that shone in front of you and you were emerging from a place with no light.

  it took you a few moments to realize that jungkook was calling his driver. however, as far as he was concerned, the night wasn’t over - it was just getting started.

  jungkook finally stepped away and you somehow felt so cold. “i’m going to leave out of the west wing doors. my car is there. leave out the east wing doors and walk around to meet me.” his directions were precise and somehow not commanding. tone soft and a gentle hand on the small of your back, it was the worst feeling of all.

  familiarity. comfort. home.

  all you could do was nod, your chest growing louder with excitement. both of your synergies were one and you both knew what idea came to mind. not much else needed to be said and there wasn’t a single part of you that could say no. his knowing smile was haunting.

  after parting ways in opposite directions - as if a conversation didn’t even occur -  you eventually ended up in the back of a limousine with jungkook.

  time moved oddly in between those two moments, as the only thing you could think of was jungkook. it was an addiction no different than chips across a roulette layout or a cup of espresso at the same time everyday. 

  thankfully, the driver’s partition was already up when jungkook opened the door for you, because he immediately captured your lips before you could even sit down. like second nature, your fingers found themselves in the crown of his hair and his hand held your neck like a trophy. you both stumbled, now sat - at least he was. you were already straddling his lap. he tasted like red wine and you could have indulged for forever. 

  “mph, that’s what i fucking thought,” he mumbled against your lips and you took his as an opportunity to slide your tongue into his mouth.

  his hands began hiking your previously eloquent gown up, enough that he could grip your thighs from underneath. your own hands found the buttons of his shirt, as the limousine began to speed off in what were probably going to be circles until jungkook told the driver to stop. 

  being in love was a vicious cycle that proved to be endless. this pattern would only continue from here on out. no matter how deep your passions for each other ran and no matter how addicting each others’ touches were, it only grew worse from here. more fights than lasted weeks to only be swept under the rug with a fuck and make up or a bottle of whiskey shared between you both. growing issues that were overlooked because that was your best friend. 

  your heart was no longer in it - it was trapped. all you could do was forget and forgive. all jungkook could do was beg and shower you with love. the night at the charity ball was one of many roots that eventually grew into deep seated resentment.

LATEST HEADLINE TODAY: hotel azure: what is this up and coming spot for idols in south korea and why is it so special?ㅤㅤ

[spaceyrosie]

I won't hurt you anymore

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader

Summary: you got hurt that caused you to be hospitalised while your dad was out for a case and instead of comforting you, Hotch came home angry about your decision.

Warnings: heavy angst, sadness, reader got hurt, Haley’s death, (tw: abandonment issues), Hotch was in the wrong, only slight comfort in the end

Author’s note: I only write sad things :( but here's another angst father-daughter relationship (no, not that kind of relationship 😌)

Word count: 1.2k

Hotch was tired, no he was exhausted.

But he has never felt this scared. He fumbled with his keys, the metal cold against his clammy skin, his movements jerky with adrenaline. 

Bursting through the apartment door, he was met with the flickering blue light of the television illuminating the living room with the sound muted. There, on the sofa, a small silhouette huddled beneath a blanket, their form dwarfed by the oversized furniture.

“What in God’s name were you thinking?!” The words erupted from him, booming into the silent living room. Hotch wasn’t thinking straight. All he could feel was fear choking him, making his voice course.

You flinched at the harshness in his tone. Your gaze remained fixed on the late-night talk show playing silently on the screen, your mind not registering anything.

"I had to pull myself out of an active case," he continued his voice a low growl. It was a telltale sign, a chink in his usually stoic armour that betrayed the fear gnawing at him. "Only for Garcia to call me telling me that the hospital called and you had discharged yourself," He trailed off, frustration lacing his voice. "Dammit, y/n, I told Anderson to stay with you! Gosh, what were you thinking?!"

Silence stretched, thick and heavy, suffocating the room with unspoken words. Hotch tapped his foot impatiently, a reflection to the frantic hammering of his heart. He needed a response, anything to break the suffocating quiet.

You shifted, the movement sending a fresh jolt of pain through your injured arm. Taking a shaky breath, you tried to focus, to clear the fog of confusion and pain clouding your mind. 

But the only thing that came through was a suffocating tightness in your chest, a pressure that had nothing to do with the broken bone.

“Say something, y/n Hotchner!” His voice was clipped, laced with a tightly leashed anger.

The words tumbled out before you could stop them. "No, Dad, you didn’t leave the team," you whispered, your voice raw with barely contained tears. "You had to leave me." You spoke quietly, the words echoing in the silence of the apartment.

Hotch's breath hitched. He closed his eyes for a moment, the stark accusation in your voice a physical blow.

“You left me.,” you continued, your voice monotone but laced with a tremor that betrayed your calm facade. “I was hurt, scared and alone but you left me.”

“Did you know how scared I was when Garcia called saying you left against medical advice?” His voice rose trying to defend on his outburst.

The sound of your choked sob shattered the peace, “I was scared, dad!” You all but shouted, the raw pain in your voice made Hotch stunned as he looked at your teary face. “I was scared and alone and in so much pain.” Tears streamed down your face, blurring your vision.. 

“Do you know how scary it was?” You choked out, each word causing your chest to heave. “I needed someone-”

“Honey, I-” He started, his voice thick with remorse.

“I needed my dad,” you cut him off, your voice trembling. “But you weren’t there.” This time you dared into his eyes, hoping to find any closure from the overwhelming emotions brewing in your chest.

The accusation hung heavy in the air, hitting him like a physical blow. 

He knelt before you, his gaze drawn to the telltale signs of your ordeal – the bandage on your arm, the stitches marring your face, a face so similar to your mother, the loss of his life. His heart ached, a dull throbbing that mirrored the dull ache of regret in his gut. He tried to hold your shoulders, but you flinched before shrugging it off.

“I want Mom,” you cried out, somehow pleading for an inconceivable wish. “Why can’t you be here for me?” It was as if a dam had broken within you, unleashing a torrent of pent-up emotions.

“I- honey, I-”  He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Finally, he managed a choked, "I'm so sorry, honey."

Sorry doesn’t even begin to the sorrow he felt.

“Why didn’t you hold me? I needed you!”

You buried your face in your hands, the events of the day crashing down on you with renewed intensity. 

“How could you send Anderson?" you continued, the anger a desperate attempt to hold back the tide of tears. "We're in the same city, Dad!”

“You can’t even make time for me, even when I’m hurt.” And the words did not stop pouring, all the pain you felt when he left you for work. Since your Mom died a year ago, you noticed he had taken more work, staying up late at the Bureau and bringing work home. It hurts you, of course it did. 

"I hate you!" The words tore from your throat. You didn't mean it, not truly, but the pain and fear were a tangled mess in your chest, spilling out in the most primal way you knew how. Hotch took you into his arms as you struggle against his hold.

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" Your fists pounded a weak rhythm against his back, more out of frustration than anger.

"Shh…shh… I’m sorry," he soothed as he held onto his ground. "I'm so sorry, honey. I'm so sorry." His voice was thick with remorse as he held you close.

A choked sob escaped your lips, the words "I hate you" dissolving into a whimper. Tears streamed down your face, hot and stinging, soaking the fabric of his suit. "I hate you," you whispered again, the accusation laced with a tremor of fear. "Why can't I hate you?"

Hotch rocks you gently, “I got you now, honey. I got you.”

He understood the illogical outburst, the desperate need to lash out at the one person who was supposed to be a constant. The sobs eventually subsided into hiccups, your body trembling with exhaustion. Hotch didn't let go, his embrace a silent promise of safety.

Pulling back slightly, his thumb brushed away a tear that fell from your eyes. His gaze, softened with a tenderness you hadn't seen in a while. "Look at me, y/n," he murmured.

"There's no excuse for leaving you when you were afraid and hurting," he said, each word heavy with sincerity. "And the regret of neglecting you will stay with me. I can't rewind time, but I promise, honey, I'll be there for you from now on."

A flicker of doubt, a remnant of your hurt, crossed your eyes. "Even when you're working a case?" 

Hotch met your gaze, "It's past time I make you a priority," he said. "I'm so sorry I didn't make that decision sooner." A heavy silence settled between you, thick with the weight of his words and the unspoken promises they carried.

He held you close, a silent promise echoing in his embrace. Your eyelids grew heavy, the emotional rollercoaster taking its toll. He continued to rock you gently, a steady rhythm against the silence of the apartment.

"Go to sleep, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. 

"I'm here now." 

[kendyzzlewp]

The Right Decision || ART DONALDSON

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pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: you’ve come to a big scary decision but it’s okay because Art supports you. no matter what.

tags: married art, working mom female reader, they have kids, basically the conversation that tashi should’ve had with art when he wanted to retire lol

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“I have to tell you something but I don’t want you to get upset. Just listen.”

Art looks away from the tv, his mouth falling automatically into a frown. You stand next to the couch, your fingers fidgeting with your wedding ring. A habit you picked up on when you first got engaged.

“I might cry,” you warn, already feeling the tears sting the edge of your eyes. “But it’s not because I am sad or anything. I just have anxiety.”

His frown deepens and he instantly turns off the television, giving you his full attention. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

With a heavy sigh, you drop down onto the couch next to him. “I’m struggling at work,” you admit, the embarrassment creeping behind your neck like a tick. “I can’t do it anymore. The demand, the constant traveling. It’s keeping me away from you and the boys. I hate it.”

Art scoots closer to you, his strong arm wrapping around your shoulders. “Yeah,” he says softly. “We hate being away from you too.”

“I want to be home,” you say, turning your head to look at him. “I want to be here for them. I feel like I’m missing out in everything. I want to be a good wife and a good mom. I want to cook dinner and help with homework. I want to clean—god I miss cleaning.”

Art chuckles quietly, pushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Baby, I-“

You cut him off because you already know what he was going to say. That you should’ve quit that job the moment you found out you were pregnant. But you weren’t a quitter, you saw things through to the end but this… this was just too much.

“Yes, I know,” you say quickly. “I should’ve quit years ago but I just didn’t want to take advantage of you. You trained so hard to be where you are. I’m not entitled to it just because I’m your wife.”

You could feel Art tense beside you, he couldn’t understand how you could think that. With a gentle touch, his fingers grab your chin, forcing you to stare into those ocean eye that made you weak.

“You are the mother of my children and the love of my life,” he firmly states. “You are entitled to every part of me. You took care of me, held it down for us when I first turned pro. Let me take care of you.”

Cue the waterworks. You always told him that if the tennis thing didn’t work out, he could look into being a writer. The sincerity in his voice, the love in his eyes, the kindness of his touch really made you fall in love all over again.

“We have more money than we know what to do with. If it quitting your job brings you peace, then do it. Be a stay-at-home mom or get another job if it’s what you really want. And please, cook for us again, I don’t think I can keep eating dino nuggets.”

A watery laugh escapes your lips as you grab the bag of his neck, pulling him closer. “Thank you,” you whisper before pressing your lips to his. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

The sounds of tiny footsteps, thundering down the hallway capture both of your attentions. Your twin boys, Jackson and Eli, burst into the living room.

They are the perfect mixture of you and Art. Their blonde curly locks, your skin tone, his stunning blue eyes and your nose. You couldn’t help but to stare of them in slight awe, eternally grateful to be able to be their mom.

“Mama, look!” Eli exclaimed, climbing up onto your lap. “I drew a dino.”

You took the paper in your hand, gasping dramatically. “Wow, this looks so good bear.”

Jackson, the more reserved of the too, quietly climbed onto Art’s lap. He snuggled into his chest. “I drew something too,” he says, handing a paper to Art.

Art shows you the paper with a fond smile. “Wow, buddy. Is that our family?”

He nods, a small smile on his face. “Yeah, you, me, mama and Eli.”

Your heart swelled at the picture perfect moment. Sitting there basking in the love of your family you realized the decision you had to make. It wasn’t a hard one at all.

“I have some great news,” you say as the four of you cuddle closer. “Mama is going to be home all the time now.”

Eli jumps excited on your lap, his eyes wide and curious. “No more trips?”

“No more trips,” you confirm, ruffling his hair.

Jackson lifts his head from Art’s chest. “Really?”

Art smiles, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Really,” he confirms. “Mommy is ours now!”

The boys cheer, jumping from the couch and pulling your hand. Both of them babbling excitedly about playing and painting and snacks. You turned to look at Art, smiling widely.

“Thank you,” you say, tears threatening to fall again.

He smiles, tilting his head. “No, thank you.”

[rhaenyrathecruell]

          Angelic

            Aegon ii Targaryen x pregnant wife! Reader  

Word count:1,108 

  Warnings: pregnancy, Aegon is his own warning, and labor, blood and mentioning of death.  

A/n: hey y'all, happy house of the dragon Sunday!  sorry for the long wait for this one shot. If you like this I made a Robb stark one shot too!  Thank you! Enjoy! 

 Screams could be heard through the red keep, servants scrambling grabbing towels. The princess had gone into labor. Aegon is drowning in his cups as usual. He groaned as he clutched his head, what was all this commotion about? He jumps up as his mother the queen slams open the door. 

 The displeasure of being interrupted and his headache did not help his mood to not be sour. “What? Must you be so loud?”  

He looked up at his mother noticing his mother’s scared expression and labored breathing. “Mother?” the prince asked now suddenly sobering up at the sight of his usually calm mother so stressed and disturbed. The queen stared at her son and said in a Shakey voice “y/n has begun her labors.” Aegon jumped up from his bed and quickly rushed out the door with Alicent following him. 

 “Where is she? In her chambers?” Alicent quickly replied “yes, she’s in her chambers with the maester and a couple midwives. She was asking for you.” Aegon may not be the most caring person to his wife but he loved her in his own way. He could feel his heart beating like it did when they got married. 

 The halls feel never-ending as they make their way to the princess’s chamber. When they finally make it to the door, they can hear cries of pain and hushed talking between the midwives and the maester. Aegon burst through the door, the hinges rattling from the force of it. 

“Y/n! My love I'm sorry it took me so long.” he cried out as he rushed to her side. Alicent closed the door and went to converse with the maester. 

“Aegon I'm scared.” y/n said, with tears in her eyes from her physical pain and from her worries. Aegon puts his palm on her cheek and wipes her tears with his thumb. He could see the pain and fear in her eyes.  

He finally finds his voice and says in a shaky voice “i won’t let anything happen to you or our child. I swear this on the old gods and the new.” He cringed internally, he sounded so unsure when he said that. He had to be strong for her, for their child. Y/n rests her head in his palm, exhausted from everything. Aegon looks over at the maester and his mother, they speak in whispers. 

 “What are you whispering about over there? My wife needs assistance maester. You are here for that not for gossiping with the queen.” he says with pure frustration in his voice.  The maester immeditally comes over and checks how much y/n is dilated. He looks slightly worried. Aegon’s heart drops in his stomach. “what? Why do you have that look on your face maester?!”  

The maester sighs, “your grace she is dilated but the babe is breached.”  

Y/n gasps “what oh god.” 

Aegon is confused, “what does breach mean maester?” he asks his heart rate going up by the minute. He squeezes his wife’s hand in silent support. They would figure this out, they had to.  

“During a normal birth the babe is facing head first. In your wife’s case the babe is coming feet first. I must go in and manually turn the babe before she starts pushing.” The maester explains, while ordering the midwives in position.  

Aegon sits there like a fish out of water for a minute before immediately turning to his wife.  As he looks at her face his chest tightens with worry and sympathy for his wife as he sees her scared expression.  

Y/n pulls aegon close to her as she is moved downwards on the birthing bed so the maester can attempt to move the babe. She gets close to aegons ear before saying “if they can’t turn the babe, they will want to cut me open like my mother. Please don’t let them aegon. Please don’t let me die.” she sounds frantic and scared.  

Aegon tightens his hold on her as her words sink in. He pulls her chin up to look at him, before he looks deep into her teary eyes and says “i would never allow them to hurt you, my love.”  

Y/n visibly relaxes at his words, the maester looks at the young couple. 

“are you ready for me to attempt this your grace?” he asks aegon. 

Aegon replies “don’t ask me, ask my wife you idiot.”  

The maester’s eyes widen in apology before looking at y/n, who nods in agreement. The maester’s hands are cold and rough from age. Y/n tenses as the maester attempts to move the babe. She clutches Aegon's hands tightly as he whispers encouragements in her ear.  

The maester’s sudden words break the silence as he exclaims “i feel the babe! I'm going to attempt the rotation now.” the maesters hands leave y/n’s body and he lets out a relived sigh.  

Aegon asks suddenly “is it done? Did you, do it?”  

The maester nods “it is done now all that is left to do is push.” 

Everyone in the room lets out a sigh of relief that the princess and the baby were out of danger for now.  

Alicent finally breaks her silence “thank the mother!” 

Aegon kisses his wife’s head as she begins to push. Y/n’s face is scrunched up in pain as she pushes. Shes sweating and grasping Aegon's hand in a iron grip. Aegon is not fazed, as he gives words of encouragement and tells her she's doing good. 

Y/n stops pushing to catch her breath before she pushes one last time with all her might with a scream.  

Finally, y/n collapses on the bed in exhaustion as the babe comes out with a shrill cry.  

The maester hands the baby over to the young couple, the babe resting in its mothers arms no doubt feeling the love in the room. The maester speaks “a boy your grace.”   

Wides smiles are on Y/n and Aegon's faces as they sit and admire their beautiful son. Aegon breaks his eyes away from his newborn son and looks at his radiant wife. In that moment he swore he would never dishonor her. She was angelic like she was sent from the gods themself. He was never more in love than in this moment.  

Y/n breaks the silence “Aemon, his name is Aemon.”   

[ma1dita]

love like a blister

the five stages of loving losing luke

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 4.7k 

summary: (post-tlt) set directly after lovers, or partners in crime; The one where you learn to mourn someone even if they're still alive. Loving him and losing him are one and the same; the aftermath of his betrayal. this work references a lot of previous works in the series! (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: yeah… yall been asking for this so buckle up. luke is not present in this one, moreso you/trouble dealing with the after. i let annabeth breakdown a bit since ep 8 was amazing but felt choppy to me. this is not the end of the trouble!verse i promise!!

(posted 2/12/24, betaed by mootie lari @mrsaluado)

—

DENIAL - bursting under pressure

we grew up together, what do you mean you grew into a person i can’t love?

Annabeth and Percy find you standing at the edge of the forest clearing—staring at the space where you let the love of your life vanish into thin air. 

You let him leave. 

It’s almost harrowing when the three of you make eye contact, not a single weapon in your possession, only your dying lantern and heart bleeding with the confirmation of Luke’s betrayal. 

Knees shaking as Annabeth stalks over and her sword still raised with tears in her eyes, she’s no longer Luke’s little sister but a formidable warrior set on protecting camp—on protecting Percy.

And you failed in doing either of those things you promised yourself at the beginning of this summer because you ignored the signs of Luke’s behavior— until this very moment. There’s a pressure in your head that dampens your senses, overtaking the control you have over your being as you deny any knowledge of what happened tonight. 

Because in truth, you put the pieces together at the same time they did, just a little too late. She looks at you now with the fury she wasn’t able to project on the real traitor.

“You knew,” she grits her teeth, on the defensive as Percy scrambles up from the ground.

“Annie, I…”

Percy stares at you in horror, a few steps back with Riptide in his injured grasp, and suddenly he understands what it means to see you break. They both feel it instantly as your lantern goes out. Heavy despair drapes over all of you as the madness rips its way through your body, almost breaking through your skin as it emanates through the air. The two children had never felt anything like it before, swords shaking in their hands as they’re filled with the sensation until it bubbles over and they can’t do anything but watch you, their usually poised head counselor lose your grip on reality.

But this can’t be real. 

Out of all of the plans you both made, it was never deemed a possibility that Luke wouldn’t be there with you. Now you stand in the darkness of the forest, hands raised in surrender to a crime you didn’t commit.

There’s so much pressure and it hurts holding it all in, hurts so badly—everywhere until you scream.

“DAD!”

You stare at their small faces surrounding you in anguish, both of them talking but not a single word registers in your mind as you keep shaking your head and screaming for your father for the first time in your life. Before the words the words can form between your lips again Dionysus is there, not as an immortal god but carrying the wrath of a protective father, and there are no forces that can fight against that.

It all moves fast from there, black spots blurring your vision brought by the sheer strength of your tears. Though you don’t feel strong right now, instead there’s nothing that can describe the feeling but hurt as you’re frozen in pain.

The kids watch Mr. D check you for any injuries, but what they’ll never understand is that the wounds Luke left behind are on the inside, and you are bleeding. He shushes you, but the words fight their way out of your mouth, almost in disbelief. “Did I do that to him?”

Your father scoops you into his arms, godly strength and fatherly concern surfacing as he cradles you like a little girl like he should have all those years ago.

The haze clears as Mr. D quells the misery that reverberates through the air and it’s quiet again as your eyes fall shut. For a moment, Percy can’t help but wonder if this is another performance of yours, another way to throw him off of the traitor’s scent. But as your hand falls out from under Mr. D’s arm, he grabs onto it anyway. The son of Poseidon remembers how you and Luke always looked at each other like you were equals, and realizes that for once, the actress was outplayed at her own game.

ANGER - words leaking like an abscess

i never knew loving someone so much would be a crime

There isn’t a protocol set in place for when one of your cabin counselors and all-star campers defects with plans to wage war on the gods. There is even less of a precedent set in place for when the head counselor and daughter of the camp director is left to pick up the pieces, hands dirtied by the evidence he left behind. Perhaps your job description was never truly clear anyway.

All you know now is that you’ve been sitting in a rickety wooden chair in your dad’s office for hours now, tied up—for formalities. 

This must be your punishment from the gods for every way you were different. Maybe if you were braver, maybe if you didn’t force yourself to only see the good in him, maybe then maybe, he could’ve been saved too. Surely undoing all of that would be considerably less painful than being questioned by everyone you love about the one you love. 

For once you didn’t have any good answers.

“Like I said to Chiron. I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know what? Use your big girl words. Just do the right thing, like you always say!” Clarisse barks in your face. The centaur tuts at the daughter of Ares, making her step back and cross her arms. The boys are more silent but still suspicious, and Lee asks if you really thought Clarisse was the traitor.

“I didn’t. I was the last one to know,” you grit, looking at Percy who surveys you with hesitant eyes, “I just thought Luke was leaving. I didn’t know why.”

“How do we know you’re not working for Kronos too?” 

One of them says it, you’re losing track as to who when you blink hard and long, but the words spill out of you like a festering wound— fast, acidic, and painful.

“Do you REALLY think I could turn my back on my home? My friends? Is that how you all think of me? After everything!”

“You’d do anything for that boy and we all know it,” Silena says with a scowl very unlike her, though you suppose everyone’s out of sorts from exhaustion.

“Not that. That’s where him and I are different. I would never be able to do that.”

You think you hear Silena bite back a sob as she turns away from you, not meeting your eyes.

Mr. D was unable to judge you since you were his only daughter. He’s been gone most of the night and you feel so alone even if the room is filled with familiar faces that don’t even want you here. Charles, Percy, Lee, Clarisse, Silena, Katie stand still as they judge you— Annabeth didn’t even come to the Big House, her mind probably already made up. 

Chiron says there will be a vote, the procedural way—like how you taught the cabin counselors how to handle disagreements, though they were never expecting to vote on your dismissal from camp. Tensions are high, some rightfully angry at the war looming over your heads, others looking at you with pity from the other corner of the room. All of them, your friends, still, you hope.

6 votes, since you and Luke didn’t count, and Annabeth’s abstention. They did it outside, away from your view and you sit in the silence of the office, angry at what’s become of you. Tainted and tarnished, you don’t bother to find out who voted what, knowing things won’t be the same after this. 

Your dad comes back a little before dawn, having asked a favor from Apollo to determine your innocence–to prove that you’re telling the truth. But by then, Charles and Lee are already untying you from your chair and you’re being let go. You wonder what changed once they were able to speak without being in your presence. Remaining seated and staring at all of them with your jaw set in stone-cold wrath, Percy thinks for a moment that you look like Luke.

The first rays of light shine through the window upon your sullen frame— a confirmation from the sun god that your heart was always pure. It still feels like a loss. There’s no medal or award for getting left behind, and winning has always been more of Luke’s thing.

You resign from the position of head counselor by the time sunlight spreads across the campgrounds.

BARGAINING - to make yourself new from the inside out

isn’t home the first place you learn to run from?

You catch Percy at the doorstep of cabin 3 before he leaves and your dad is yelling at all the campers.

“Okay! For those of you who are not staying for the full term… get out! You get out. Pack your bags. You’re going home!” Mr. D screams with a twinkle in his eye as he winks at you, patting you on the head before walking away to drive kids out.

“Didn’t think you’d be up,” Percy mumbles, adjusting his backpack over his shoulder. You’d been locked up in your room since the interrogation with almost no signs of life. He was worried about you—all of them were. They just didn’t know how to say it, after everything.

You stood in front of him in sweatpants and a shirt he’s sure he’s seen Luke wear to sleep before, exhaustion prominent on your face; usually you’re better at hiding it, but there’s no need for false pretenses anymore.

“Last day of camp. Had to end it on a good note,” you say softly, biting your lip, “I heard about what you did, Perce. You didn’t have to. I was going to quit anyway.”

Sometime in the past few days, Chiron came to your cabin to tell you they didn’t vote at all, which was a surprise to you. Percy convinced them not to, reminding them of your efforts as head counselor, and as a friend—the decision was settled quickly after that.

“I knew you didn’t betray us. I was just scared.”

You watch him shift his weight, not losing eye contact as he produces a half-smile. He seems older now after his quest, as many demigods do–though it’s only been a few weeks, he looks like he’s grown more sure of himself.

“That’s okay. I was too.” 

The silence between you is comfortable as both of you listen to the birds in the trees, the distant voices of chattering children, and your heart hurts at the idea of leaving this, even temporarily. As your eyes flicker back to Percy’s, you realize he feels the same way. 

“I hope your mom’s okay, especially after all of this. I just wanted to say goodbye.”

His sandy eyebrows furrow and it’s funny how Percy always looks a little confused.

“You’re leaving camp? I thought…”

“Well I’m not joining Kronos, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you laugh dryly, “It’s getting boring here. Gonna have to change it up soon, I think. See you.” you nod, waving a hand as you turn to walk away.

“Wait!” 

Percy calls your name, skipping down the steps of his cabin and meeting you halfway down the forest path. He’s digging through his jacket pocket, and pulls out two black clay beads with blue tridents etched on the surface as your body grows cold.

“I don’t know what to do with—” “We…the other counselors, this is what we ended up voting on. And I thought you should get an extra, just in case,” Percy mumbles, his voice edged with hope and your face contorts into something like regret. You can’t cry again, even if you wanted to. 

“I wouldn’t pray for something like that,” you whisper shakily.

“I thought you didn’t really pray at all.” 

The kid smiles at you and it makes you wonder what souls like him and Luke must’ve done in their previous lives to deserve fates like this—to fight wars that aren’t their own. To be doomed by the narrative is a treacherous thing, and it is so utterly unfair. 

“Yeah. That was more his style,” you sniff, taking the beads out of his hand, “but I still find myself with a lot of hope.” 

Hope, in a sense, is prayer too. Wishing that things will be better, manifesting and believing that it doesn’t have to end this way. You don’t think Luke will ever come home to you, not really, not all of him, but it’s nice to have something to hang onto. At his core, he was raised to be a soldier, and soldiers don’t always come home.

You decide to drive Percy down the opposite shore to Montauk. It’s a short ride, and he spends the time looking out the window to the sea, thinking of his father— when the car pulls up to the driveway of the beach house, you step out and give him a hug. Soon, he’ll be taller than you.

“Take care of yourself, okay? Need anything and I’m a call away,” you smile, but he sees that it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Thank you. For being a real friend, even if it hurts you.”

You grab his shoulder to make him look at you, and the distant sound of crashing waves dampens the thoughts running through your head.

“Listen to me. None of this is your fault. I couldn’t save him. Luke’s my biggest failure.”

Your voice wavers and you swallow hard, pushing the tears back down your throat.

“You know, I knew you didn’t know anything about his betrayal because when we were in the forest, I’d never seen you like that before. I couldn’t figure out the feeling, and–”

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that, Perce. I couldn’t hold it in anymore,” you interrupt, but he shakes his head and continues.

“I thought you were sad. It felt like sadness at first, but then I realized it was hatred. And I knew even then that I could never hate you. So I realized that’s how you felt about yourself. I hope someday you don’t feel that way anymore.”

If a few tears slip down your cheeks, Percy doesn’t pay it any mind. He waves at you when he gets to the door.

DEPRESSION - healing takes thick skin

i knew to love would be to lose my mind

After the summer term ended, you spent most of it in bed, hiding away from the world. You wished to be more spontaneous, to up and leave the safe boundaries of the camp you call home, but you’re not quite there yet.

The one good thing about this is your father. Dionysus was at your bedside every morning and night between the work him and Chiron had to do to keep camp running in your absence. His powerful fingers made themselves comfortable stroking your hair as you always find yourself staring at nothing. Your father cured you of what he thought was madness over your life being turned upside down by someone you love, but after the fog cleared, you were left feeling nothing. Numb to the touch, hardened by your hurt like a growing callous.

Impenetrable.

He thinks it’s bittersweet, getting to know you better as you chat late into the night when you can’t sleep, but it breaks his own heart to have the power of Olympus on his side and still not be able to fix you. He knows now what you must have been feeling these past few months, to some extent.

“Sometimes I wonder if I’m dead already,” you mutter as your eyes stare blankly at the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling. Your dad is sitting at your desk as he signs paperwork, and his eyes flicker to a pinned photo on you wall of you kissing Luke’s cheek in a photobooth. One of the pins is missing a memory, torn and stolen away. 

“Unfortunately, you’re not that lucky. I carried you out of that forest, I’d know,” he mutters, sipping on his Diet Coke. 

“Will it always hurt like this? Losing someone you…” Love.

You can barely even bring yourself to say it, so he sighs and nudges you to move over on the bed, his Hawaiian shirt an eyesore against your bedspread. It makes your lips quirk up to see the god try to fit himself into a full-size as he adjusts to get comfortable.

“Yes. Because if it hurts, it means that it mattered. There is no such thing as love lost if you gave it willingly. You know, your mother and I were never together, but I loved her too.” 

He tucks the duvet under your chin like he’s worried you’ll catch a chill. Your form is still unmoving under the covers as he continues.

“Love is a powerful catalyst. The actions humans do after are a product of that; it brings out the best or the worst in people, especially if you think it’s the only way. You love because you want more time with them. You love someone to life, not to death.”

“Silena said something at the Big House. She said that everyone knew I would do anything for him. Where does that leave me? What do I do now?”

Your eyes shut as you feel your dad grab your hand and he chuckles lowly. He knows a thing or two of doing anything for love. He’s gone to the underworld and back—twice, for his mother Semele and his true love, Ariadne. And he’d do it again for you, if he ever had to. “You’re not broken, kid. You’re in love. It’s the purest emotion the gods have bestowed onto humans, and it is a gift, even if it doesn’t work out. Love is insanity.  I think you and I know it best.”

“I guess I’m a lot more like you than I like to admit,” you scoff, leaning against his arm. 

“Don’t sound so excited, daughter of mine,” he says playfully, and he seems so human now as he laughs. The two of you have a gift of fixing people, but perhaps you were both blind to who needed it the most until this very moment. Sitting there in the quiet a little longer, it doesn’t feel so bad to be the favorite daughter of Dionysus. Maybe when you’re ready to get out of these walls, you’ll be able to say it with pride.

ACCEPTANCE - to be soft again takes strength

in another life, we would’ve mattered more than choosing sides

“He always hated it when you smoked, you know.”

You cough through a puff, boots slightly slipping in the sleet of the gravel driveway as you turn to face Annabeth. Besides the fact that her father’s house is grander than anything you could ever imagine yourself living in, there’s a large distance between the two of you as she stands on the steps, the box you left on the doorstep slowly being dotted with falling snow. You left the car running, thinking she wouldn’t want to see you after everything that’s happened.

“Well he probably hates a lot of things about me now,” you say grimly. 

It’s been a growing habit to want to feel something, the rush of nicotine through your bloodstream—even if it’s bound to rip years off your life. It doesn’t really matter as much anymore.

I hate a lot of things about me too, you think, remembering a white house on a hill even if it was a distant dream— these thoughts all go up in smoke as you watch her sit down on the stoop waiting for you to come sit down with her.

Your hands fidget as you find a place next to her, putting out the cigarette on the red brick as the ash falls onto your chipped nail polish. It burns, but Annabeth watches you, the both of you stone-faced.

“What made you drive all the way out here?”

She opens the box and tries to hide a shaky breath at it’s contents but the vapor in the air betrays her. You can still tell a thing or two about people acting, but you’re never too sure anymore.

“I got a few days off from class. Dad Iris messaged me, told me there were new kids in 11 who needed bunks, so… he thought it was time. It was sitting in my room when I got there.” She notices you call Mr. D your dad now, but doesn’t say much of it. She’s also getting used to calling her father that after all these years.

You pull out the quilt you gave Luke the night before you got claimed, a faded pink and purple pattern worn from the years of use and wrap it around her shoulders. It still smells like him, citrus and musk and something darker that hangs over your heads and she sniffles.

“So you’re a college girl now, huh? Never thought you’d do it,” Annabeth mumbles, still not looking at you as her eyes scan through what was hidden underneath the fabric. Luke never had much he held close to his heart, and it’s funny to think his two prized possessions were staring down into a box trying to find the meaning of it all.

“Yeah, me neither,” you sigh. It should’ve been an insult, but you know what she means.

Not without him. 

There’s a lot that you promised each other, but you find yourself doing it all alone–because you have to. The world does not wait for for anyone, even if you beg for it to.

“It’s not a big deal, I’m still on the Island, just…not at home. Just trying to keep myself busy.”

Her hand picks up a polaroid of the two of them—he’s smiling as she peers over his shoulder.

“I think it’s great. You’re too hard on yourself sometimes.”

Other memories are scattered in the box including a leather bracelet, a compass, unsent letters to his mom, and photos of happier days back when all of your hearts were softer. There’s not much to split between the two of you.

A black clay bead rolls to the inner corner, indicative of this year’s events and painted with turquoise like the eyes of a certain son of Poseidon that now crosses the both of your minds.

“Percy gave it to me before he left for the city, for him. In case.”

You swallow loudly, and you watch her braid it onto the leather cord and tie it around your wrist. Her fingertips are cold as she nods, “In case.”

“You’ve been looking for him, haven’t you?” The movement your head makes is almost imperceptible—not a nod nor a shake, but the daughter of Athena knows you too well by now. She knows you because Luke did too, once upon a time.

“Think I’m trying to find myself now. If he’s still a part of that I don’t know what that says about me.”

The two of you sit there on the stoop of the Chase mansion catching up on the past 7 months even if the both of you can still feel the wall of his memory between you. She doesn’t invite you in to meet her family despite the weather—hesitant to let her mother’s side of life bleed into the new normal she’s created for herself, and you can’t blame her one bit. The both of you have been at war with each other and with yourselves since the end of the summer, when in reality you both know what it’s like to protect the little you have to hang onto and what it feels like to be left behind. Survival mode, until the end.

“Why do you think he did it? I mean, I know why, but…”

Why weren’t we enough?

Annabeth’s mind has always been so brilliant, but sitting in the dim porchlight, you understand now that she’s growing up so quickly. Gone are her baby-soft cheeks, with her cheekbones more prominent as they frame her wise eyes. She’s a teenager now. But Annabeth looks at you like she did long ago, the only person besides Luke who would patiently answer all of her questions. Even if the answers weren’t always what she wanted, you had a way of telling her what she needed to hear.

“I think I’ll be asking the gods why for the rest of my life. And even if they ignore me like they did him, or give me an answer that’s worth the balance of the world, I’ll still never be able to understand it.”

The snow is falling harder now, but neither of you seem to notice. It’s stuck in your hair, dusting your eyelashes as you sit and stare out at the front lawn. She tells you about school, her family, Percy and Grover, and the things you’ve missed about her so deeply—and for a moment you feel like you can be her older sister again, someone who can keep her secrets. Partially, you left home because everyone either doubted you or thought you as fragile. Annabeth always tells you what she’s truly thinking— it’s a breathe of fresh air to let yourself just be.

“I’ve never not had the last word when it comes to him, y’know? I guess I have nothing more to say though.”

You both huddle together for warmth under the quilt, sharing secrets and memories of him, things others wouldn’t understand.

“You know that’s not true,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes, and her smile is as bright as the snowflakes in her ebony tresses.

“What I do know is that you know too damn much,” and you both start giggling softly, teary eyed and feeling what you’ve been keeping in for months now, from each other and the rest of the world.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters suddenly, and your name falling from Annabeth’s mouth sounds almost as unfamiliar as her apologizing. It shouldn’t have to have been like this. You’re not going to lose the only person who remembers him like you do, who hurts like you. 

“Me too.”

She leans her head on your shoulder like how she would when you used to sing her to sleep, and deep down Annabeth knows that she won’t let the only good part of her brother go either. What tore the two of you apart brings you back together, because if you don’t have him you still have each other.

The door to the estate opens up slowly, it’s well-oiled hinges silent like the two sad girls’ whispers. Dr. Chase steps out to see you two illuminated by the light of his home, hand in hand over a box of memories and wrapped in a pink and purple quilt that Annabeth will hold close to her like she does her mother’s hat. 

“You two ladies causing trouble?” he smiles, his eyes wild with a thirst to know more and it’s a look you’ve seen his daughter give you one too many times.

You can’t help but chuckle at the irony and though he means well, the all-consuming feeling that comes with the name, Luke’s name for you– ignites in your heart once more. No one will ever call you trouble again, not in the way he did. It burns like alcohol running through your veins almost unendurable and you want to will it away, but Annie’s patting your arm as she tries to stifle the flames with her cold fingers.

“Her?” she says knocking her shoulder against yours, “ Always.” 

Annabeth laughs, and that too, reminds you of him but it doesn’t hurt as much anymore, your body still warm in the winter Virginia air. You feel your chest shake and suddenly you’re laughing and it’s crazy and loud and maniacal and so you that you can barely see Annabeth through the tears rolling down your cheeks. It cuts around the dead skin that’s encapsulated your being these past few months, revealing something brand new—much softer, even if it’s still tender to the touch.

It’s still you, still hurting, but choosing to live despite it.

Because you have to.

—

“Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever had to do. Being loved by you is the hardest.“

- Ari B. Cofer

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