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#i desperately want to be on time with posting this
healmydesires · 1 day
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sweet like sugar ꕤ (l.h)
part one
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pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
summary: Now that Logan was finally able to call you his, he couldn’t get enough of you.
OR
Logan fucks you from behind.
genre: fluff + smut (18+ mdni)
word count: 3,7k
warnings/tags: friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, thunderstorms, literally the scene right after this fic, porn with NO plot, reader is described as shorter than logan, inexperienced!reader, hint at loss of virginity, unprotected sex, piv sex, doggy style, soft!dom logan, ok… just in overall bye, logan is soft for reader, sub!reader, creampie, overstimulation, major size kink, praise kink, dirty talk, logan talks you thru it. a lot more daddy kink in this one ngl. HEAVY ON THE BREEDING kink aaaaa sorry. I am still ovulating. they’re both FREAKS. scent kink? reader is also ovulating bye. lots of pet names. logan is worshipping his sweet girl ok! reader is a mutant but it’s not really mentioned in this part tho. reader has hair, no further description though. this is not beta read sorry!
a/n: GUESS WHAT!!! I finished part two that I wanted to originally post in the main fic but it kinda felt out of place idk either way!! I’m posting it now 🤪 I thought I’ll write what I WANT to read. this is high key self indulgent. english isn’t my first language so pls bear with me <3 this is just smut😭 I literally wrote this while ovulating…
this goes without saying, but if you don't like it don't read it <3
AO3 • masterlist
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Logan manhandled your body, guiding your body so that you were lying on your stomach. He manoeuvred you in the position he wanted you to be. His hands came to hold your hips, pulling them up, your ass in the air for him.
He kneads the flesh of your cheeks before spreading them apart for him. Your body slumped slightly forward with exhaustion but Logan is quick to grip your hips, holding you in the same position. “Oh kitten, I’m not done with you yet.” He tutted.
You whimpered, feeling his eyes on your wet heat as it clenched repeatedly, aching and begging to be filled all over again and again. Logan growled as he stared at your entrance as your combined cum dripped down your hole, as you continued to clench around nothing. Your body trembled with anticipation.
Logan had made sure you’d cum several times before he took you for the first time. Before tonight, you were so inexperienced, a virgin actually. Now, all you could think about was that you wanted and needed him to continue and fuck you for hours, filling your pussy with his cum over and over again.
He leaned over you, covering your whole body with his own. Logan nuzzled your neck as he littered your skin with his kisses. You writhed against him, wishing he was just pushing his cock in you already and filling you up in the best way.
The air was stuffy all around you, each harsh breath released only thickening it up, leaving your skin hot and your mind fuzzy. Logan groaned into your ear, mouthing kisses along your neck, tongue trailing down the junction between your neck and shoulder before he gently nipped your skin.
Logan reached down to grasp his cock to line up with your tight entrance. He rubbed his tip firmly over your pulsing hole. Your mind was all over the place as his ministrations continued.
“Fuck, can’t wait to fill you up again.”
His breath caught in his throat as his cock smeared his pre cum against your already cum filled hole. The usual restraint between his mind and his words seemed to vanish, as words tumbled from his mouth.
“I wonder if you can handle this position already.” He whispered almost to himself as his hands kneaded your ass cheeks. “Your tiny pussy could barely handle my cock earlier…”
“No, daddy… I can take your big cock.” You whined desperately as you tried to push your hips against his own, hoping he’d enter your pussy again. You were squirming, as you kept trying to push his cock inside you, but Logan had a strong hold on you, which made it hard for you to move around too much. “I’m daddy’s good girl.”
At your words Logan growled, grasping your hips and tilting them more and pushed your trembling legs further apart.
Logan inhaled sharply. “You smell so good, kitten. I can smell your fertility. Your little pussy is practically begging for my cum.” He murmured against your ear. Your cheeks flushed with heat at his words. Logan continued as he pressed tender kisses down your neck, “Can’t wait to breed this pussy again and again with my cock. All night.” Logan moaned and you hissed at the heated sensation of his cock, your eyelids fluttering when you felt it press against your entrance.
A broken gasp left your lips as he finally slid the tip inside you. You felt his body moving behind you, sitting up against you, and you knew his eyes were on your pussy. He watched as your walls spread to try and begin to wrap around him. You whimpered at the new angle as you tried to accommodate his girth. He could barely get more of it in your tight walls at first, eventually using more force to open you up for him. It felt like you were being torn open, split in half.
“D-d-daddy…” you stuttered and mewled.
“I know baby girl, I know.” Logan moaned as he gradually slid more of his thickness inside you and you trembled more underneath him. Your pulsing walls were wrapped tightly around his cock, as your soaked pussy pulled him in more. The pressure of his massive dick deep within your walls overwhelmed you while you clutched the sheets below you in tight fists.
Logan towered over you, as he pushed more of his length inside you, his gaze focused on your clenching hole as his dick slowly disappeared more and more inside you.
You arched your back as you clung onto the bed sheets for dear life, nails digging into the comforters. You couldn’t keep quiet, little mewls and whimpers tumbled past your lips with ease as Logan slid inside.
“Ah, daddy… so big.” You whined.
“You take me so well, pretty girl. Doing so good for daddy.” He moaned as he leaned down to press a soft kiss against your cheek, as he kept pushing more of his girth in you slowly. Every time Logan would slide more inside your pussy would squeeze around him. You knew he was barely halfway in, still you felt so full.
“So full…”
“I know my sweet girl, I know. You’re doing so well, soon you’ll be filled with all of daddy’s cock.”
The whines and whimpers and moans kept spilling from your lips as Logan continued to push deeper and deeper. Your hands trembled as they gripped the sheets between your fingers while he penetrated your tight walls.
“P-please, need more. I can handle it daddy…” you whimpered as you tried to push back your trembling body against him, his cock sliding deeper inside you.
He groaned at your desperate whines and as you pushed back against him , losing his composure momentarily as he thrust the rest of his thick cock all the way inside your wetness. The head of his cock touched your cervix once he bottoms out. A scream left your mouth as you trembled underneath him, your pussy trying to adjust to his size as it clenched around his cock. You pushed your head into the pillows as pathetic whimpers kept falling from your lips.
“Christ, you’re so warm—fuck—so tight,” he growled, rambling without a thought, too enveloped in the feeling of your tight walls wrapped around him.
You moaned and squeezed around his cock at his words, leaving him panting above you. Both of his hands moved to grab at your ass cheeks, kneading them slowly and gently.
“God, sweetheart, you’re so fucking hot… and wet. How are you this tight?” Logan groaned — the deep timbre of his voice reverberating through the air.
There was an intense pressure deep within your stomach — Logan’s thick cock throbbed erratically inside you. The feeling of him nestled so deep within you had you sighing in pleasure. There was still a dull ache — from how wide he stretched you out; your walls pulled apart to their limits — but pleasure soon replaced the stinging ache. Gradually, you adjusted to Logan’s size and with an experimental swivel of your hips, you cried out in pleasure.
Fingers were digging harder into your ass, soft grunts and pants escaped his lips as you moved your hips slowly back against him. “Fuck— that’s it, baby. Grind all over my cock—you feel so good,” Logan growled as his head fell back. The soft murmuring of his voice ripped through the room, the sounds of his own pleasure intermingled with yours.
“Fuck, Logaaaan,” you whined — drawing out the syllables of his name. His hands were still on your ass — holding the plump flesh in his large hands while he squeezed and spread them apart.
Pleasure seeped into your veins, and you began grinding and squeezing more feverishly against him. Short gasps of pleasure slipped from your lips, as you felt his cock pulse inside your tight walls.
“Kitten, fuck, I can’t wait anymore. Need to fuck you.” He slurred and panted above you — euphoric elation dripped from his words. Your stomach twisted — the heat inside caused your stomach to flip and turn with every one of your movements. “Need to breed this pussy.”
“Ah, Lo—”
Both your breaths laboured as you’d feel his hips move, quickly pulling himself almost all the way out of your pussy, as you whined at the empty feeling. “Such a needy pussy.” Logan growled before he thrust himself all the way inside your cunt again.
“Ah ah fuck, daddy… oh my god—” you hiccup as he moved his hips slowly but hard against yours. You cried out as he thrust so deep inside you that it had your body slumping against the bed. Your pussy continued to pulse and squeeze around his thickness, as it tried to adjust to its girth still.
“Pussy needs to be filled all the time ain’t that right?” He groaned as he punctuated every word with a thrust.
You moaned loudly as you arched your back and pressed your ass up against him. He grabbed your asscheeks, keeping the angle perfect as he rolled his hips deeply into yours. You felt his cock throbbing inside you as you tightened around him.
He was so deep, hitting your cervix repeatedly which made your eyes roll back in your head.
“F-fuck baby girl, you’re so sexy like this.” Logan slowly picked up his pace at the sight of you throwing your head back. “You’re all mine, isn’t that right kitten?”
With every thrust, you couldn’t help but cry out in pleasure. Not only was Logan’s cock thick, but he was incredibly long too, his length just slightly curved: which allowed his head to drag against that sweet spot inside you.
Large hands moved to your hips, Logan gripped them tightly as he helped you move against him. Every movement had hot spikes of pleasure jolting across your skin, your toes curled in elation while your stomach twisted and knots violently. The ecstatic bliss of your impending orgasm called to you and you began bouncing your ass against him.
“Ah, y-yes yes yes, I’m all yours. P-please please f-fuuuck, I need m-mo—” you begged and you’re unable to finish your sentence as he gave you a particularly hard thrust.
You felt your arms almost giving out on you because of the force of his thrusts. Logan’s hands were clawing at the sides of your hips, guiding you with him, and he leaned down to place kisses on your upper back, his kisses travelled down your spine, until he leaned back up and just watched you as he fucked into you from behind.
Skin melded together, your sweat acting as a glue, you lost yourself into the feel of Logan. Your mind goes blank as all you could do was focus on the feeling of him stretching you, filling you up, so overwhelmed with bliss already. He thrust deeper inside you, which earned him whines and moans as you continued to cry out his name. You tried to tell him, breathlessly, about how good he made you feel.
The sound of your pleasure fuelled his desire to fuck you better, urged him to do more.
Logan picked up his pace, thrusting into you quicker, harder, hitting the spot that had your body going numb.
From above you, Logan fucked harder — his cock thrusting deeper into you. The additional sensation caused you to whimper, your pussy twitched as sheer, unadulterated bliss began flitting through your bloodstream. You were close — so close you could practically taste your orgasm; even if your mouth was completely dry from gasping his name and calling him daddy over and over again.
You clawed at the sheets, burying your face into the pillow to muffle your screams. The air was all stuffy around you as his hips moved faster, you whimpered as you tried to push back your hips against his to take more of his big cock. Your tiny pussy was so full of him, still trying to accommodate his thick girth as it pulsed and tightened around him. Logan moaned at the sight, kneading your ass as he tried to bury himself more inside you, his tip hitting your cervix instantly. Your eyes rolled back inside your head once again as you dug your fingers more into the bed, you mewled against the sheets at the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you.
You whined loudly as he shifted inside you, the new angle made him hit your sensitive spot inside you.
“Fuuuck,” Logan moaned. Your pussy was so wet and warm around him, your walls squeezed his cock with every thrust, “feels so good, kitten. You’re taking daddy’s cock so well.”
Your noises became louder and higher pitched as he continued his assault on your pussy, indicating that you were getting closer as well as the lewd sounds of your pussy that kept meeting his cock over and over again. The sounds mixed so well with your desperate cries.
Logan couldn’t help it, you looked so pretty like this. Fucked out beneath him and so fucking full of his cock, the closer he got to his orgasm the more the images of you filled with his cum consumed his thoughts.
“Your pussy is so tight and wet around me, begging me to fill you up in other ways… begging for my cum.” He groaned as he thrust harder into your heat. “Begging for me to breed her.”
“God, daddy-daddy please. Fuck I—” You whined as your eyes rolled back inside your head.
“What do you want, kitten?” He groaned while one of his hands reached around you to slip against your clit as you writhed against him as he applied pressure. The pleasure had the tension tightening in the pit of your stomach, dying for your release.
Suddenly, everything became too much: the pressure against your clit, his grunts, the sticky, sweaty feeling, his scent, his warmth, the drilling of his cock inside you. Just everything. You tried to catch your breath but from how Logan was thrusting inside you and the rubbing against your clit it felt almost impossible to do so.
“F-feels s-soo— F-fuck, I-I, daddyyyy—”
“Look at you,” he chuckled breathlessly, “so cock drunk and so fucked out you can barely talk.” He whispered once he leaned down as he buried his head in the crook of your neck, as he picked up his pace once again. He fucked you so fast and hard that you swore you never moaned so loud in your life. “Don’t worry, I think I know what you need.”
He leaned his body completely against yours as he continued to hit against your cervix repeatedly while one of his hands kept rubbing your little bundle of nerves. “Feels good doesn’t it, sweet girl?” You whimpered and trembled underneath him as you nodded, he moaned against your ear before he whispered close to you. “Does it feel good? That I’m fucking you like this? Just the way you wanted it.”
“Y-yes! F-feels sooooo so gooood, Looo—” you whined as he continued to hit your sensitive spots inside you. Logan’s fingers kept pressing down on your little nub making you squirm. The tension continued to build up as the pleasure became too overwhelming.
“That’s right, princess.”
Logan snapped his hips into you again and again, thrusting deep, causing you to see stars from knowing just how to pleasure you. You felt like your head was swimming once again as you whined. “I’m sooo so close, p-please… daddy… I’ve been such a good girl.” you begged desperately. You only needed one more little push, a little bit more attention to finally reach your peak again.
“Yes, you’ve been such a good girl for daddy.” He panted above you.
You cried out for him, your moans almost sounding like his name as he moved his head down again, pressing kisses all over the side of your face down your neck.
“Can’t wait, fuck—“ he breathed, he stopped himself to let out a loud groan, “can’t wait to fill you up. I keep dreaming about filling you up nice and good. ”
The words made you keen and pulse around his cock, as you moaned his name into the warm air of your bedroom. You wanted more, needed to hear more, wanted to know what else he wanted, what else he dreamed of but your voice was strangled, your brain incapable of forming a sentence.
“I keep dreaming about breeding this pussy until you’re fuckin’ pregnant.” He grunted before he whispered in your ear, “be a good girl and cum for daddy.”
“Fuck, oh my god,” you cried, a shrill wail as Logan’s words went straight to your pussy. Your cunt gushed all over Logan’s cock as he never stopped. His thrusts were hard and deep, enough to turn your vision starry.
“That’s it… that’s it, let go pretty girl.” He murmured lowly into your ear.
His hips never slowed down as he massaged your clit. And then the coil in your lower tummy snapped, your eyes rolled back into your head while you arched your back as your world dissolved into pure ecstasy. You couldn’t stop yourself from shaking as he talked you through it. You almost blacked out because of the intensity of your orgasm, trembling like crazy. You whimpered as the overstimulation got to you.
“Doing so good for me, baby.” He groaned as his pace became more erratic, with less finesse as he charged towards his own finish line. “Daddy wants to fill you up. N-need to fuck my cum into you, kitten. Breed you and get you nice and full…”
Your walls pulsed and tightened around him as he continued to hit your sweet spot inside you. He groaned as his movements became more sloppy. He cried out your name with a gasping breath. Loud mewls left your lips as he finally spilled his seed inside you, coating each inch of you with a warmth that pooled deep inside you. An instant wave of pleasure rolled throughout your body as he filled you up with his hot cum.
“Ah...” you whimpered underneath him as your body continued to shake.
He kept fucking his cock inside of you, fucking his cum deep inside of you until he was satisfied. Logan exhaled deeply as he came down from his high, his body slumping against your own. His cock was still lodged deep inside you, still half hard as he kept the cum inside your pussy. You whimpered as your pussy pulsed around him, as it kept clenching repeatedly around his still hard length.
You tried to catch your breath as Logan groaned while you continued tightening involuntarily around him. “Kitten,” he warned breathlessly, “don’t do that.”
“I can’t really help it.” You said under your breath.
He gently pulled out of your tiny spent hole, making you whimper at the loss and you felt his eyes on you, knowing that he watched his seed drool out of you. Your legs were spread wide, and your pussy slightly gaping from where he’d fucked you open. But he was much more focused on how his cum leaked out of you, his seed dripping down your hole. Chest swelling with pride, he couldn’t help but let out a lazy smile.Your pussy continued to clench repeatedly around nothing and he groaned at the sight. Logan made sure to plunge his pointer finger into your hole as you gasped, stuffing you back up with your shared cum.
You winced at the sensation, a whimper slipped from your lips at the sensitivity. Pressing a kiss to your knee, “We’ll have to clean you up,” Logan mumbled, even as he continued pushing his fingers inside you.
“Not now, I’m tired,” you murmured back whiningly. When the ache of oversensitivity got too much, you bat Logan’s hand away before you closed your legs.
With a low laugh, Logan pressed an apologetic kiss to your knee before picking you up effortlessly, making you yelp in surprise. “Up you go.” You were about to complain that you could walk perfectly to the bathroom on your own, when you felt sore and your legs felt incredibly numb.
Once he reached the bathroom, he sat you down on the edge of the bathtub all while running the water and surprising you with your favourite bath bomb, to create a bubble bath. It brought a smile to your face knowing he knew so much about you.
“Logan… how is it that you always know what I need?” You whispered as you looked at him dreamily.
“Isn’t that what your best friend and new boyfriend should know?” He gave you a teasing smile.
“Either way, thank you.” You whispered before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
“Anything for you, sweetheart.”
You leaned into Logan's gentle support as the tub filled. When it was ready, he carefully lifted you and helped you into the warm water. Looking up, you moved towards the centre, silently inviting him to join. Logan eased in behind you, and you shifted forward slightly so he could settle comfortably. The soothing warmth enveloped you both as you relaxed against him, relaxing instantly in the peaceful moment.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
His strong arms encircled your waist, drawing you closer until you were nestled securely against him. You let out a contented sigh, feeling the solid warmth of his chest behind you. The gentle rise and fall of his breathing was soothing, and you found yourself relaxing even further.
“I love you,” he whispered, his breath soft against your ear. His lips then traced a tender path down your neck, each kiss a gentle affirmation of his words. The sweet gesture sent a pleasant shiver through you.
A smile spread across your face as you settled deeper into his embrace, feeling utterly at peace. The moment felt perfect — safe, warm, and full of affection. You shifted against him, shuffling around as you moved closer into him in the water, you pressed your naked body against his. Face to face once again. Easily, your legs tangled together, and closing your eyes, you let his words and the comfort of his presence wash over you. Your heart swelled with emotion as you replied, your voice soft but filled with certainty.
“I love you too.”
In that quiet moment, surrounded by his warmth and care, you felt truly cherished. The storm outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble of contentment.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ And that’s how the rest of the night went, tender kisses and soft touches shared between you two as you enjoyed each other's company. Feeling so loved and at home as you melted in his embrace.
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whimsyvixen · 2 days
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𝕊𝕚𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕌𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕟𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 ~ 𝟙/?
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Stalker Fic (original work)
Rating: 18+ Pairing: Female Reader x Male Yandere Synopsis/Excerpt:   It felt like someone was looking at you. A predator looking at a fawn. Waiting for the right moment to sink its powerful jaws into its frail neck, and tear it apart. WARNINGS/TAGS: Dark fic, rape/noncon elements, extremely dubious consent, stalking, yandere, unhealthy relationships, obsessive behavior, masturbation, captivity, non-consensual bondage, dacryphilia, forced breeding, forced orgasm, vaginal sex, fuck or die, tags will grow as this story progresses. ⚠️READ THE TAGS: Please be aware this work contains content that the reader may feel uncomfortable with or otherwise triggered by. DO NOT READ if bothered by tags . NO minors. ⚠️
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A/N: Wooo! so I finally decided to make story for this post I made awhile back (a thousand thank you's to everyone who liked and commented <3 ). Please read up on the tags, so you know what to expect in the coming chapters. Happy reading!
-Dividers by @adornedwithlight-
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It was raining outside, the distant thunder and pitter patter of raindrops hitting the window creating a lullaby that was lulling you to sleep. Combined with the soft rumbling of the bus, you could feel your body’s desperate need for rest after a grueling shift at work. 
Familiar streets and roads were tracked by your eyes, the expected relief of almost getting home brightening up your mood despite the gloomy weather. You estimated that you'll reach your destination in less than half an hour, rummaging through your purse to take out your phone to set up a timer in case sleep overtakes you and you miss your stop. 
Pressing the lever of your seat to recline, you got comfortable and laid your cardigan over your chest, finally giving in to the urge of closing your eyes. Seconds ticked by and all you could think about was how you couldn't wait to be in the comfort of the soft bedding on your mattress. Your muscles were practically begging for relief and you had enough pillows and blankets waiting for you back home to alleviate this problem. 
It couldn't have been more than a few minutes that passed– your mind completely disassociating from reality while you snoozed– when your peace was shattered. A shiver of unease ran through you, waking up your consciousness abruptly and causing you to jolt awake. 
The same feeling that’s been haunting you for weeks now was back.
The hairs on the back of your neck stood and your heart rate picked up.
It hadn’t always been like this. You could still remember a time when you climbed inside the vehicle without your gut twisting anxiously. At first, you chalked it up to it being caused by some low level of anxiety you were experiencing or lack of restful sleep. Something that could be easily remedied by swallowing a pill stashed inside a drawer back home.
However, as of late, a feeling of wariness and fear seemed to consume you, your fight or flight response triggered whenever you climbed up the stairs of the bus, each step weighing heavy on your legs as you went to take your seat.
It felt like someone was looking at you. 
A predator looking at a fawn.
Waiting for the right moment to sink its powerful jaws into its frail neck, and tear it apart.
The paranoia getting to you, you turned your head to the right, swallowing down your nervousness as you tried to find the source of your panic. 
There was a man seated in the opposite seats across from you. His stretched out and bulky frame took up much of the space, the black cap on his head and the mask he wore obscuring his features and giving him a mysterious vibe. The turtleneck shirt clung to him, emphasizing the broad muscles of his upper body even in his relaxed state. His back was to the window, his left leg bent in a careless fashion along both seats, facing you directly as he was browsing through his phone. 
At least, you thought that's what he was doing. You didn't want to believe that the man was taking unwanted pictures or videos of you while you slept. 
You didn't realize you were staring for too long, the stranger’s attention shifting away from his phone when he could feel your gaze, freezing you in place as your eyes connected with those dark depths. For some reason, you couldn’t look away, too afraid to blink as a chill took over you from being under the perusal of those piercing eyes. There was something wrong, you just couldn’t explain it. He tilted his head to the side, regarding your stunned state for a moment before his eyes crinkled with amusement. He waved good naturedly at you, a normal gesture of greeting that you would've returned if not for the twisting of your gut that warned you against doing such a thing. 
When you didn’t return his gesture, the stranger’s eyebrows furrowed in dejection, bringing his hand down to lay against his lap almost disappointedly. 
A good few seconds passed with both unwilling to look away from each other. 
Your eyes, firm and guarded while his were inquisitive and curious.
As if finally sensing your unease, the stranger backed off by turning to sit properly in his seat and shifting his focus back to his phone. 
Letting out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, you grabbed your purse and whipped out your phone, your shaky hands nearly dropping it when you first grabbed it. Turning the screen on, you realized you had taken a ten minute nap with seconds to spare from your alarm ringing. You were mere minutes away from arriving at your stop.
Taking a quick glance at the stranger once more, you tried to rid your paranoid thoughts that he was the reason for your being on edge these past few weeks. It couldn’t be, you tried reasoning to yourself. If anything, you were in the wrong for staring at him funny when you’ve never seen him before. Maybe this was his first ride on the bus and you made his experience weird because you kept looking at him as if accusing him of something heinous. Maybe he was just trying to be friendly and not spook you when you caught each other’s eye by accident. Maybe your groggy mind was making things up about a complete stranger. 
Could the stress of work and your responsibilities piling up for the past few months be messing with your awareness? There was nothing special about you. You weren’t an important person. There was nothing, no gifted ability or priviledge, that separated you from the throngs of people you saw every day while heading to work. Why would someone want you with your bleak existence and no future aspirations?
Your anxiousness and worry slowly left you when you drew those conclusions about yourself, replaced with self pity as you realized you really had nothing going for your life. The somber expression staring back at you through your phone’s black screen only dimming your mood further. 
It was a while before the bus slowed to a stop, the driver’s familiar voice announcing your destination and making you stand to walk to the front. Not paying attention to your footing, you tripped over your own feet and felt gravity pull you under. A small yip tumbled out of your lips, feeling pain on your left elbow from the hard impact on the floor. Your purse went flying in a comical fashion, your disoriented mind not sure in which direction it landed or if anything fell out of it. 
Embarrassment quickly flooded you, feeling the eyes of other passengers stare at you and hearing a few snickers amongst them. Wincing from the blossoming pain in your arm, you had barely braced your hands on the floor ready to stand up, when you felt warm hands encircle your waist.
“Here,” a deep voice whispered against your ear. “Let me help you, sweetheart.”
You were lifted from the floor easily, your weight meaning nothing to the man as he held you gently until you got your bearings straight. You looked up at him, having to crane your neck upwards due to his tall height and seeing it was the masked stranger.
“I, uhm.. Thank you,” you stuttered over your words, a flush of heat blooming in your face at his proximity. You wanted to kick yourself for how high pitched your voice sounded, unable to maintain eye contact with him when he gazed so intently back at you. If you dared to say, it felt like he was trying to memorize every small detail about your face– birthmarks, the slope of your nose, shape of your lips, the emotion in your eyes. Realizing that you still held on to his arms wrapped around your waist, you nervously laughed before going to break yourself away from the intimate embrace. 
“I’m okay now, you can let go,” you assured him, the fake smile plastered on your face concealing your tense disposition from his closeness. 
You chose to ignore the way his fingers dug momentarily into your waist, gripping you a little too tight to be normal before he loosened his grasp, allowing you to generate a more respectable distance between you and him. Seeing your startled reaction to his handling of you, the stranger immediately apologized for his actions.
“You’ll have to forgive me for my forwardness.” He told you, imploring you with his eyes that he meant no harm. He bent down to pick up something on the floor, his other hand holding up the strap of your purse for you to take it. “I only wanted to make sure you wouldn’t trip over yourself again.”
“Oh! I-It’s ok really, I-,” your words were interrupted by the harsh voice of the driver telling you to hurry to the front if you planned to get out. You quickly snatched your purse back, ignoring the little jolt of electricity that zipped through you when you grazed his fingers. “Um, I have to go but thank you, again! Bye!” 
You turned to walk briskly down the steps of the bus, thanking the bus driver for his patience and stepping out into the familiar streets of your neighborhood. Luckily for you, the rain had slowed to a soft drizzle, an umbrella not needed for the small trek you took to arrive at the apartment where you’ve been renting for the past year. 
Locking the door behind you, you sighed audibly before throwing your purse at the chair nearest you. You walked over to your room, kicking off your shoes to land haphazardly along the floor because you were too tired to bother putting them away. Removing your damp clothing, you grabbed a towel and some night clothes to head to the shower.
Relaxing under the spray of lukewarm water, you found your mind straying to the stranger in the bus. 
Who was he? 
You weren’t lying that you had never seen him before. A man of his formidable size would have been easy to spot, sticking out from the rest of the passengers like a sore thumb. He was dressed peculiarly too, his attire giving off the impression that he values secrecy and privacy. And his voice! Goodness, you could feel yourself nearly melt remembering the richness of it. The way he held you like a dainty object didn’t escape your notice either, your cheeks aflame at how good his hands felt around your waist. The feminine thrill that his presence ignited was hard to subdue, unbidden thoughts of his hands squeezing and trailing over your naked body filling your mind.
Would his hands be soft and gentle? Or would they be strong and rough? 
As if your hands had a mind of their own, they moved up your body to cup your breasts making you gasp at the contact. You looked down at your chest, seeing the peaks of your nipples hardening under your soft touch. You tried envisioning his hands squeezing the doughy flesh, your head tilting to one side as you wondered if he'd be satisfied with your size. Small moans escaped you as you continued to fondle yourself, closing your eyes and imagining him whispering sweet nothings into your ear while he teased your breasts. You were sure he’d trail a line of kisses down your neck, pressing his naked front against you so you could feel his excitement poking at the small of your back. A sudden hard pinch to your nipple brought you out of your fantasy, the thought of his cock causing your fingers to twist the sensitive tip excitedly. 
You shook your head under the shower, trying to calm your racing thoughts before they got more explicit. 
To think such things about a man you hardly knew wasn’t good. What if you see him again tomorrow? Could you bear to look at him knowing where your thoughts were straying at this moment? 
You winced, memories of the loaded eye contact you threw his way making you want to smack yourself. Maybe you should apologize next time you see him. To prove to him that you weren’t a crazy lady that regularly gave the stink eye to neighboring passengers. Explain that your stress was getting to you. Perhaps be the first to wave at him next time to show there was no animosity between you. Maybe something could develop once you introduced each other, a giddy little voice tickled your ears.
Once you were done showering and drying your hair, you went back to the living room for your purse. You had placed your phone inside so the rain couldn’t wet it. You needed to wake up at a good time tomorrow to get ready for work so setting up an alarm was crucial. When you grabbed your purse, you noticed it felt lighter and looked down to see it was unzipped and wide open. 
Oh No. There’s no way…
You dug your hand inside, hoping to feel the familiar mass of your phone only to come out empty handed. Then you remembered your fall from earlier.
“Damn it, it must have fallen off when I fell,” you cursed under your breath, gnawing on your fingernail in worry for a minute before sighing tiredly. You needed to sleep and staying up late thinking about your lost phone was not going to help. You’d have to wait until tomorrow morning to ask the driver if anything was found.
Turning off all the lights in your place, you finally headed to bed, a yawn leaving your mouth as you placed a knee in your mattress. Under the covers of your blanket, you tried clearing up your mind so you could sleep quickly. A sudden image of the masked stranger flashed through your head, your growing curiosity of him affecting you even in your most tired state.
Right before you slept, a nagging at the back of your mind told you to be wary of him.
~
A man lay on his bed alone, hair plastered to his forehead as he breathed harshly. His shirt was raised to his waist, exposing his naked pelvis and muscled thighs as he pumped his rigid dick at a furious tempo. 
His choked groans and huffs were muffled by his mask, the man tilting his head back on his pillows to bask in the pleasurable sensations of his hand firmly stroking his length. Perspiration ran down every inch of him, the sweat dampening his bed and making him grunt at how his sheets clung to his heated skin. He slid his hand down his shaft– tightening his grip when he got to the base– hissing when it caused his cock to twitch before sliding it up once more to tease his cockhead and repeat the process. The squelch of the lubricant coating his dick was a decadent symphony next to his pleasured grunts, the aggressive handling of his pleasure nearly causing him to erupt as he continued to fuck his fist. 
He was nearly there, half lidded eyes eyeing the drop of precum threatening to slide down his shaft and mix with the lubricant. 
No, he didn’t want to cum so soon. Not without the image of the pretty bird he’d been stalking for the past month etched in his brain. God, she was so beautiful. Never had he seen a more perfect woman than you. His hands tightened remembering how soft and demure you were when he picked you up. The slight tremble in your body and your skittish behavior making him want to devour you where you stood. 
Biting his lip, he slowed his pace and closed his eyes in concentration, conjuring up an image that would help to reach his climax.
In his mind, it was no longer his hand wrapped around his dick. 
Instead, smaller hands were slowly stroking him in an almost reverent manner, seeming to worship every protruding vein and jerk of his member. A small gasp escaped you when cum drizzled out of his tip, smearing your fingers with the warm liquid to combine with the lube drenching his dick. He could feel the stickiness of it running down his thighs and balls, causing him to shudder at the sensation. 
He could see you biting your lip anxiously, staring at him with those expressive eyes of yours waiting for his instruction. Unable to resist, he'd grab your hair and yank you his throbbing cock, your flushed face gasping at the heat emitting from his rod of meat pressed against your cheek. He hoped you were a smart girl, knowing what he desired from you as he slapped his dick on your lips. 
He'd stare you down, arching an eyebrow as he waited for you to open that sweet mouth of yours. He knew he wasn't a small man–his girth was enough to intimidate even his most experienced past partners– but he was sure he could teach you how to swallow him down like a good girl.
You'd hesitate for too long, testing his patience. He’d need to be firm with you then. He'd pinch your nose between his fingers, blocking your airways and driving you to open your mouth to take a breath. It was all he needed to shove half of his cock inside your heated orifice. A guttural groan would echo in his room, the warmth of the hot cavern of your mouth and wiggling tongue on the underside of his dick making him see white for a second.
He could picture your muffled whimpering, your hands bracing against his thighs to pull away. He'd lift his upper body to get a better grip on your head, not allowing you to escape and forcing more of his dick down your throat. He'd praise you for being so good and lovely for him. Telling you to relax your throat, to make it easier for you. Before long, you'd obey his commands and start bobbing your head slowly to adjust to the fullness in your mouth. 
He'd allow you to work at your own pace, content with seeing your tear ridden face for a few minutes more before taking over when you were going too slow for his liking. Your eyes would widen with alarm when he thrusted his hips up, a gargled whine vibrating through his manhood from the fierce jab in your throat. He’d repeat the same action again, a pleased groan rumbling out of him at the feel of your mouth struggling to accommodate him. From there on, he'd use you like a fleshlight, gripping your hair tightly to pull your face down to every one of his savage thrusts. Spittle and cum would rain down your jaw, messing your appearance as you gagged and moaned around the dick hammering your throat. 
It was the fantasy of seeing you look up at him, eyes pinched with distress and tears streaming down your heated and sweaty face, that made him finally snap.
His hips jerked up in his hand, his body vibrating violently just as his cock shot out endless ropes of cum in the air. He grunted with each twitch of his pelvis, feeling the warm liquid pooling in the crevices of his contracting abs and staining his shirt. His chest heaved with exertion, the stranger breathing heavily as a result of cumming from his heightened lust. His mask hid his delirious smile, the stranger chuckling to himself at the euphoria he felt and the mess he created.
Only you could make him cum so strongly to drive him to lose himself.
Minutes passed until he was able to get his breathing under control, begrudgingly getting out of his bed to clean himself up. 
Something about you had him hooked. What started off as a fleeting crush morphed into a distorted and unhealthy obsession, the stranger falling deeper in love with you every passing day, as well as the urge to take you growing exponentially worse. .
He longed to know what it felt like to have you in his arms, the thought keeping him up often at night.
Luckily for him, his wish finally came true tonight, remembering the softness of your body in his hands. You were a small little thing compared to him, barely reaching his chest. It wouldn't take much to overpower you, the statement giving rise to depraved thoughts of your squirming body underneath him, naked and helpless under his ardent touch. It took everything in him not to pull you closer, wanting to feel your delicious shape against his frame as the fantasy played in his head. He hated his mask at that moment, realizing he could've caught a whiff of your scent too if he wasn't keen on hiding his identity. 
The stranger's eyes furrowed in displeasure at this, angry at himself for missing an opportunity to know you more intimately. Turning off the sink, he didn't bother to dry his hands when he ripped his mask off and flung it in the trash. 
In a foul mood, he exited his bathroom and marched towards his study. It was already past midnight but there was something important he had to do before he slept.
Entering the room, he didn't bother to close the door and sat down, sliding the chair closer to his desk to get to work. He was inputting his PC’s password when he glanced at the rectangular object next to him.
It was your phone. 
He inspected it, taking note of your phone cover and thinking it suited someone like you. He pressed the on button, seeing your phone screen light up and ask for the passcode to access it. He typed in a few guesses and not to his surprise, none worked. 
No worries. This would only be a momentary issue. Nothing that he couldn't crack open once he plugged your device to his computer. Sure enough, within a few moments, all your browsing history and personal information was revealed to him. His eyes traveled greedily over all your files, desperate to know who you were and what you liked.
His impatience to claim you was nearing a tipping point. He already had a small taste of you and it was not enough. HIs hands clenched into fists. He wanted more. Desired to thoroughly possess you and infect you with his love. 
One way or another, you were going to be his.
He would make sure of it.
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em1989ts · 2 days
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𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆
five hargreeves x reader
word count: 1.7k
part one. part two.
summary: after discovering your husband cheated on you with his brother's wife, you run off to a different timeline using the subway, only to find a deli crowded with a familiar face.
author's note: this is my first fic that i'm actually posting lol, if anyone sees this i'll be totally shocked
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“Just leave me alone, Five.”
You were speed walking down the steps into what looked like an abandoned subway, desperately trying to avoid the man you thought you knew, who was currently right on your tail.
“Not until you talk to me, y/n,” he pleaded, swiftly trying to catch up. 
“There’s nothing to discuss, Five,” you said in a cold manner. 
You just couldn’t speak to him. Not after what just happened in the living room with him and Diego. After what was just brought to light. 
You wanted to laugh, you really did, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do so. 
Why would you hear him out? Why would he believe he had a right to explain himself? How could he? A marriage of over half a century, down the drain. And for what? 
Seven years with her.
Lila. 
His brother’s wife. The mother of his brother’s children. The child of the couple he assassinated. 
It made no sense. 
You angrily sped up and quickly got onto the train that was stopped at the station. It’s white light making you more stressed than you already were. 
The doors shut in his face. Just a couple more seconds and he would’ve been on this train. You would’ve been stuck having to hear him try and save face until the next stop. 
Sometimes the universe lets you win. 
But why not this time. 
You stared at him through the window of the subway car doors. He looked at you pleadingly. You looked at him disappointedly. 
Who was he, because he sure as hell wasn’t the Five you had known since you were thirteen years old. Stuck in the apocalypse with nothing but ashes and him.
 You had thought it was fate. You and him were meant to be stuck together, meant to be there for each other. Even after everything that’s happened. Apocalypse after apocalypse after apocalypse. 
The subway started to move. You stayed standing, staring at him with daggers in your eyes until he was out of sight. He didn’t chase after the car, he knew it was pointless. He knew he’d never get you back. He didn’t deserve you. 
Once the outside of the train was completely dark and all you could see was your own reflection in the window, you turned and took a seat. Hands in your lap, looked straight ahead, drained. 
What were you supposed to do now? Where would you go? 
Maybe this train would take you to a universe with a Five that could never dream of betraying you the way your own did. 
The lights shone over you as you were deep in thought. You had no idea where this train would take you, when it would take you. 
Suddenly, the car slowed to a gradual stop and the doors opened. You wanted to stay on, maybe pass by hundreds of stops until you actually got off the train but you heard footsteps passing by the station. 
Something in the back of your mind told you to get off at this stop, that you would find something important. 
You stood and slipped through the doors. As soon as you turned your head to scan your surroundings, that’s when you saw him. 
How could he have gotten here before you? 
Five was casually walking towards a set of stairs when he saw you and stopped in his tracks. 
You glared and felt a flame arise in you as you stomped over to him. 
“I told you to leave me alone, Five. What the hell are you doing here?” you pointed an angry, accusatory finger in his face but he just grabbed your hand and gently held it in his. 
You were confused, he seemed different. Less guilty. More sentimental. 
Your anger faltered as he stared into your eyes with an admiration you were already starting to miss. 
“y/n,” he said sincerely, “it’s been so long.” 
Of course he wasn’t your Five. You had just jumped onto a multi-dimensional subway for Christ’s sake. 
“Come on, follow me,” he said as guided you towards a stairwell. 
As you descended and turned a corner, warm glowing lights filled your sight. A warming, comforting sense of nostalgia flooded your senses. You looked up and read the lights on the sign, Max’s Delicatessen, as the Five you stumbled across led you inside. The sound of a familiar vintage tune filled your ears. 
Immediately, you felt all eyes travel to your frame. Every single pupil in this room belonged to a Five. The man you never wanted to see again. Each one of them looked at you with a shocked and astounded expression.
 The Five still holding your hand paid no attention and directed you into a booth seat. 
As you sat down, you took in your surroundings. The Fives behind the counter preparing food, the Fives taking orders, the Five delivering food, the Fives whispering at tables. 
There were so many of them, what was this place?
The Five sitting across from you looks in your eyes with a knowing look.
“It’s not often we get one of you around here.” 
You shake out of your confused thoughts and reply, “And what exactly is this place?” 
Before you can get a reply, a waiter Five comes up to the table and places two mugs of coffee in front of you and Five. Before he leaves, he places a couple cups of creamer and packets of sugar next to your mug. 
Without answering your question, the Five in front of you smiles and says, “We keep those in the kitchen and not on the tables since it’s really rare to see you.” 
You give him an annoyed look. 
“Can you explain to me what’s going on?” 
“Right,” he sat up a little straighter and took a sip of his coffee. “You hopped on a subway that took you to an alternate timeline. That timeline just so happens to hold a place where us Fives come after we’ve stopped trying to fix the problem.” He largely gestured to the room full of alternate versions of your husband. Ex husband. 
You stared at him for a few seconds, your brain rattled with questions, before you spoke. 
“Stopped trying? You mean trying to save the world?” 
“Stopped trying to fix the broken timeline,” he replied matter-of-factly. 
“The broken timeline?” you repeated in confusion. 
“There’s only supposed to be one, and I’ll bet you can guess who shattered the original timeline.” 
Before you could reply, you heard a bell as another Five yelled out, “We did.” 
Five made a disapproving yet knowing face as he called back, “Why you always gotta wreck shit, Brisket Five?” 
Brisket Five shrugged at him then winked at you before returning back to his work. 
“Okay . .” you started, trying to come up with the right questions, “So, our existence is the cause of the broken timeline. Is that why there’s constantly an apocalypse?” 
“Precisely,” Five responds, before gesturing to the framed pictures on the wall. “By the way, check out the artwork. All the different ways we made our universe go kaboom.” 
You stare at the photographs on the wall, noticing both familiar doomsday and entirely unique ones. Once your eyes reach a certain point along the wall you notice some framed images of you. Different photos of you and Five, living your lives together throughout the timelines. 
The Five across from you notices your curious glimpse. 
“I mentioned we don’t often see you around here,” he explains. “It’s because it’s rare that you survive your timeline.” 
You quickly turned back to him in response to his statement. You don’t survive? How many of the Fives in this room have lost their y/n? Has the Five in front of you lost his? 
“What do you mean?” 
“You and I will always meet, in every timeline throughout the universe. It just seems that fate doesn’t always take our side,” he says solemnly as he looks down at his mug. 
A Five piped up from the booth behind you, “My y/n was killed by the Swedes back in Dallas.” 
Another from a couple tables away said, “Mine died in the apocalypse, but we had a good thirty years together.” 
The Five in front of you looked up at you and said, “In my timeline, the Handler shot you and you died in my arms. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.” 
He gave you such a genuine look. Like he’s felt shame and guilt for so long, his apology was heartbreaking. How could these Fives care so much about you, while your Five forgot all about you. 
“It’s okay,” you looked at him truthfully and took his hand in your, “I’m sure none of your y/ns would ever blame you for their fate, but they would for giving up. They’d want you to keep going, stay strong and do what it takes to save your family and the world. That’s what they loved most about you.” 
You felt bad placing blame on him but you didn’t understand how the man who has spent his whole life prioritizing the safety of his family and overcoming countless obstacles and stopping at nothing to save his family could just give up. Sure it was tiring, but that was the life the two of you lived, together. 
He smiled at you so lovingly it crumbled your heart. 
“Y/n, the doomsdays will never stop coming. The only way to end this constant cycle of saving and destroying the world is if our family ceases to exist.” 
Your heart slowed its beating as you stared at your interlocked hands, contemplating. 
You hated to admit it but he made sense. Whenever your family is all together, everything goes to shit. People always die and the world will always end. 
Before you could respond, you heard the door swing open and a tense tone fell over the deli. 
The Five across from you held your hands a bit tighter as he glanced up at the Five that had rushed in.
Your Five. 
☕︎
part two.
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I'm really thinking about that one Ghost post you wrote about him basically making himself at home at the reader's place when she found him near dead in the woods and it still is scratching my brain all right 😭 him devoting his life to her and the fact her husband is there completely upset about this all is the perfect drama.
the thing i love most about this is that i never mentioned ghost by name in that post <3 not once <3 but you're right. it is so, so ghost-coded. ghoded, if you will.
you're the hands in which he rests, a weapon; submissive in the way (as was once said) a sheep-guarding hound is submissive to the livestock it protects. 
so mismatched is his demeanor with yours--harsh and scarred--and that it frightens the townspeople around you. and your guards.
when you do get hurt, they jump at the chance to accuse Ghost of hurting you. no matter how you insist you're fine and demand the townsfolk see reason--you witnessed the attack, for god's sake! not to mention your wound is shallow and looks much worse than it is. but the guards lock him up in the small dungeon under your family's estate.
at your direction, Simon doesn't fight his captors. you both know, for all his strength, he'll be killed if the guards see their chance to take his life. they've never trusted him.
and so he's hauled off, chained up like a dog, lying in wait for his sheep. 
when you return to see him, having pushed through those who insisted you stay away, that he's dangerous, that he hurt you--only then does Simon strain against those chains. he wants to be at your side. he's driven half out of his mind with worry that the assassin who hurt you might come back and finish the job without him there to protect you. 
he'd pull the chain bolts clean out of the rotting brick to get back to you if not for the guarantee you'd be kept from him if he did. although it's not by your choice. 
he's even willing to confess to crimes he never committed, would never commit, if it meant being in your debt, imprisoned in your home, back by your side.
you stay with him as long as you can. his arms are locked behind him and he rests on his knees, more animal than man, as he presses his face against your waist. his desperation abates once you take his face in your hands to comfort him. he's lightheaded.
you assure him you'll be back, that you'll figure this out and get him home and out of those chains soon. he strains against the chains again as you pull away.
it's not until there's a second attempt on your life that he's vindicated.
the only story anyone knows is that when you screamed, by the time your guards made it up to your bedchamber, the blood from your attacker's corpse was already soaking into your rug. one of them tried and failed to coax the bloody dagger out of your shaking hands. your palms were clean. 
you tell the guards this was the man who attacked you before. you tell them to bury him and not speak of this again; to leave your chamber for you to clean.
once they're gone, Simon emerges from the shadows, hands bloody, to disentangle your hands (white knuckled) from the dagger, to usher you into the wash basin. you see the iron cuffs on his wrists, chains snapped off, and say nothing.
nobody is ever quite sure who released him. just as nobody is sure who the assassin worked for.
strangely, your husband seems to avoid you after that.
;)
more Ghost / masterlist
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insert-this-fire · 2 days
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Overpoweringly Sweet
Logan Howlett aka Wolverine x gn!nonspecified mutant! Reader
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Summary: Somehow you contracted Hanahaki for a man you hardly ever spoken to. Cant end well can it?
W/C: ~9k Warnings: a little OOC, angst, graphic description of coughing up flowers with blood.
AO3 Mirror A/N: I never post actual fics on tumblr but I feel that it needs to be done here. So sorry if its kinda formatted weird? it will also be on AO3!. First x-men fic too so sorry if its a bit ooc. Not really based on any specific iteration of Wolverine. Also not edited like, at all. Also I take requests! :3
~~ :3 ~~
You know, having a crush on someone so unattainable is laughable at best. Having a crush on them and apparently somehow contracting Hanahaki is even worse. How does that even happen? You haven’t even spoken to the guy more than a few words. Too embarrassed to open your mouth to introduce yourself and you work together. Yet here you are, petals on the bathroom floor and a constricting feeling in your throat. Your head lying on the back of the stall door. Still heaving from the sudden onslaught of overly sickly floral-scented petals that spilled out.
Gardenias. Pure white and mocking. 
The smell of them made you nauseous. The sight of them even more so. After looking up what they meant. It just made things even worse.
Secret love. How fitting.
It’s a damn crush, and the world decided it was love. Love for a grumpy ass old man with hair that kinda made you think of a cat. Actually, he reminded you of a cat in general. One that you want to rest your face on and fall asleep. Bury your face in those pecs of his. Muscles may look hard, but they do have a bit of squish. By God, does he have muscles. You’ve caught him shirtless a few times. All by accident, of course. You weren’t a pervert. Anytime you think of it, your jaw clenches tight.
Ah, getting off-topic here. Back to the fact that apparently, hanahaki doesn’t care if you’ve ever talked to someone before.
The stall door was cool against your cheek when you turned your head, and it was less gross than hugging the toilet like you wanted to so you could flush the flowers down the drain. It was terrible. The petals surround you, and a single full bloom floats mockingly in the toilet.
You know how to cure it. The moment that the flower petals started to spill from your lips, you desperately looked for what it was. It wasn’t that hard to find, apparently some find it sickeningly romantic. Bet they never had to deal with the ache that was constant around your lungs. You found the cure for it as well. Should be easy to do, right? Tell the person how you feel and they return it, or get it surgically removed. The surgery should be the right choice. It’s the only choice. You’ve hardly spoken to the man who coveted your affection, but the thought of not feeling the tug of your heart when you see him was too much to bear. Which makes no sense! It’s a dumb crush.
God, you’re an idiot.
A deep breath fills your lungs slightly, and the pain wraps around your chest as you try to get a full breath. Your hands find purchase on the rim of the toilet, and you push yourself up. Now, on two shaky legs, you wipe your mouth. You need to clean up the petals before anyone comes in. It was still the middle of the day, and classes were still going. Thank God the coughing fit didn’t hit you till lunch, or you would have to explain to a classroom full of students. That would be embarrassing. Yeah sorry class, your teacher is in love with someone they can’t have, let’s continue with the lesson now! Embarrassing.
Your hands start to pick up the petals. Each one feels as if it was searing into your skin. One, two, five, ten, thirty. Thirty petals and one full bloom. You were screwed. You could go to Hank. See if he knew any other way around it, any way to fix the disgusting flowers that took root in your lungs. Maybe being a mutant changed how to cure the disease? That was just hopeful thinking, though.
After mulling over the choices for a few moments more, you finally unlock the stall door and walk over to the garbage, quickly discarding the petals that did not make it into the toilet.
Your feet then carry you out of the bathroom and, as luck would have it, right into the chest of the one person you did not want to face yet.
Logan.
You were right, though. The muscles on his chest were squishy. God you want to just motorboat him real fast. Would that be weird? Yeah it would be. As quickly as you ran into him, you tried to remove yourself from his personal space. You know the guy wasn’t too fond of touch. You think. You actually… don’t know. Words quickly spill from your mouth as you try to apologize. “Sorry, sorry. Didn’t see you.”
Logan just makes some gruff-sounding noise and continues on his way. You could faintly see as he walked away scrunching of his nose. He was probably able to smell the faint floral scent that was clinging to you. It probably wasn’t pleasant. You didn’t like the scent, it probably was a lot stronger on his end.
As you stand in the hallway after the sudden bump into your crush, you place your hand on your chest to calm your beating heart, and you walk in the opposite direction to your classroom. It hurt that he didn’t even say anything back to your apology, but that seemed pretty in character. To you, at least. If you were on friendlier terms, maybe not, but you doubt he even knows your name.
The thought of the surgery resurfaces in your head. Maybe you should get it. Ignore the deep-seated pain in your heart at the thought of losing your feelings for him. However, the repercussions of a botched removal is another reason not to do so. It could remove the feeling of ever being in love again. Would that be so bad though?
You shake your head. You have a class you have to get back to… and a phone call to make.
The day continued on like normal after that. Classes, grading papers, discreetly removing petals from your mouth into the trashcan by your desk as you graded papers. A new norm for you. It did seem that a few students had noticed a slight change in you. In fact, one of them even got you a get well soon card. Sweet, but it left a bitter taste in your mouth.
If you don’t get better soon, you will probably end up another statistic for the disease. How many people were there that had it and perished as the roots wrapped around the lungs and slowly filled the valves on the heart. Too many, probably. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at that. That’s why you were now sitting in your now empty classroom, making a phone call. You had found a number to a doctor who specializes in the disease. You would get some advice and decide from there what you want to do.
The phone rings, once, twice….
“Hello, this is Dr. Forrest’s office. How may I help you?” How fitting a doctor who knows about Hanahaki has a nature-based last name.
You quickly introduce yourself and ask if you could speak to him or schedule an appointment. Apparently the only way to talk to him is with an appointment. The next one isn’t for a few months. You don’t even know if you’ll last that long. You’ve been keeping track. A full bloom appeared today. A singular full bloom, no steam. The petals were loose so it had to be in the early start of the mid stages. It was taking its time infecting you. It must be due to not seeing Logan all the time.
You do tend to avoid him when you can. The thought of seeing him always makes your cheeks burn. Man was just too hot. It made it seem like you were in love with just his looks! You weren’t. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be coughing up all these petals. You’re pretty sure it wasn’t just his looks. The flower has a meaning, after all.
Maybe if you avoid Logan, actually stop trying to see if you can see him across the halls. Stop looking for him during dining hours. Just try to ignore him. Though unless he was going to go on one of those sudden long vanishing acts. Well, you doubt that you actually will be able to avoid him enough to live till the next appointment. You really are screwed. Shit.
Running a hand over your face with a groan you lean back in the chair behind your desk. What should you do? The surgery now seemed to be out of the question. So now you either confess and die, or you just die. Which definitely was not the ideal thing to do. You were screwed. Hands down. Your name is on the death warrant the moment the receptionist said months. Maybe you should go to Hank. Dude was a certified genius right? He would know something.
A knock at your door made you jump. Quickly you lift your head and look over to the closed door to your classroom. Could be a student, another faculty member? Whoever it was either needed you or the room.
“Come on in.”
Silence followed and then the door opened up. Your gaze turns to the door, ready to answer whatever questions that are going to follow. Till you hear the tall tale sound of boots, heavy. The sound of jeans rubbing against legs. A jacket rustling slightly from movement. Jeez, why are you suddenly so aware of the sounds?
Your eyes hone in on the man you’ve been thinking about. Logan. Twice. TWICE in one day you’ve seen him up close. See him in your space. He never seeks you out. You never get to see him up close like this more than once or twice a week. It’s like you’re in a fanfiction and someone is pushing the two of you together.
That’s silly though, this was real life.
“Oh, Logan. How can I… help you?” Could you sound any more awkward? You want to bang your head on your desk. Especially with how he was just looking at you. Should you have called him Wolverine? Mr. Howlett?
“You need to let up on that perfume you’re wearing. Can smell it all over the hall.” His face gives away the fact he smells something he doesn’t like. 
Perfume?... Perfume… The flowers. Of course he could smell it. The floral scent has been clinging to you since the first petals slipped from between your lips.
“Oh, heh sorry. I’ll try to use less of it.” You just laugh a bit, still feeling a tad bit uncomfortable, the sudden tickle in your throat reminding you that you could not stop the smell from permeating your skin. That it will linger on you till you no longer have these flowers growing inside of your chest. “If I use too much again I’m sorry. Can’t really tell when I use too much or not.”
Blue eyes narrow at you, you can tell he doesn’t believe you. That he should call you out on it. “Thanks bub, it’s masking everything else.”
With that he left the room as quickly as he came, there was a slight pause and you can tell he glanced at the trash can by your desk. The trash can that had a few petals thrown in haphazardly. Thought to be hidden by the papers that you threw on top. You hope that is all he sees.
That was such an awkward interaction. You slam your head on the desk once more. God why are you such an idiot.
~~ :3c ~~
Time continues on like normal, but recently you catch Logan at the corner of your eye. Which is normal, you usually do seek him out. Yet now it’s like he is everywhere you go. Walking in the gardens, he’s out there smoking one of his cigars leaning on a tree or the wall of the mansion. You’d be eating and you’d see him a table or two away, his eyes on you. You can feel them boring into your skin. You’ll be walking in the hallways and see him turning a corner before you fully spot him. More often than not you find him outside of the bathroom you were just in after coughing up a storm. Just standing by the door like a guard dog. Always scrunching his nose when the door opens and the aroma of flowers follows you out.
He knew. He had to. He had to know something was wrong with you. There is no way he doesn’t. The man has been alive long enough that he probably knows the signs of what you have. The disease that is currently ruining your life. He has probably seen all sorts of people who have had Hanahaki. You won’t be the first, nor the last person he has seen inflicted with it either. It’s probably why he’s keeping an eye on you. He must have found out when he came to ask you to stop using so much perfume and yet you still smell that sickeningly floral smell on you.
Unless you’re just suddenly more aware of him than you were before. Which you shouldn’t be. You were already highly aware of him due to your damn dumb crush that’s killing you. Eyes are always lingering on him.
It’s probably because of the scent that’s following you around. It is probably sticking out more than your usual scent, which was. You don’t know. What do you normally smell like? Apparently, it’s something non-distinct since the new smell is pretty overpowering. If you can smell it, it must be strong.
You wish you knew what was going through the man’s head. You couldn’t really ask him. You aren’t close to him like that. Can’t ask the people he is close to either because you aren’t close to them. You kinda just, are here in the mansion teaching. You’re not a part of x-men, you aren’t too interested in fighting anyways. You earned your keep teaching. You are vaguely close to Hank though. Well, in recent events at least. You could ask him?
Yeah, no, you aren’t. You’re going to suffer through this. You can handle it. You don’t need to know what’s going on in his mind.
Which reminds you, you need to actually go talk to Hank. You’ve been putting it off, but the full blooms are startling. Every other coughing fit brings one full bloom. It has only been a week since the first bloom and with the sudden influx of Logan sightings, it is speeding up. You needed an out and fast. Before it kills you.
Thus here you are walking through the mansion to head down to his lab. Quickly avoiding anyone you see. The scent of flowers following you through the halls like a wraith. Leaving a trail of sweetness to waft into the air. Disgusting.
As you make your way into the lab you spot Hank, or Beast? Shit, you don’t even know which one he prefers to be called. You really should ask, huh. Anyway, you spot him.
When the blue-furred man spots you, he quickly greets you with your name: “It is good to see you this fine evening. What do I owe the pleasure? It is not often I see you down here.”
If you could, you would sigh deeply. The rattling of vines stops the motion before it begins. “Hi yeah uh. I got into a delicate situation and I don’t know who else to go to? The doctor I had called can’t really see me and I don’t know what else to do and you’re like… The smartest person I know so I’m hoping… you could help?” The words spill out quickly.
Hank raises an eyebrow and fixes the glasses perched on his face. The man was upside down for some odd reason, and he quickly flipped to land on the ground. With grace you don’t expect for someone his size. Then again, you’ve seen some weird ass mutations. He motions for you to sit down on one of the beds stationed in the lab. One used when needed for situations like this. Medical, scientific, not something you can throw a punch at and fix.
After sitting down on the bed, you start to explain. Words flowing like a waterfall. He is the first person you have gone into detail about your condition. How the petals slip from your lips like a poison, the tightening of your chest with each breath. The fear of losing yourself to unrequited love and dying because of it. You do not mention who it is directed at nor the fact you thought it was a crush and did not deserve to have evolved into such a disease.
The room fell silent after your reveal, a silence that stretched on longer than you would have liked. God, you hope he has an idea about how to help you out of this mess.
“From my knowledge there are only two cures. I assume you already know.” A pause as you answer with a curt nod. “I do not believe there are any other alternatives other than what has been proven to work. I assume that you are here to find out if there are any or that you require the surgery.”
“I can’t tell them… I really had hoped that you would know. I don’t.” You sigh and run a hand through your hair, messing it up slightly. It was already a mess from earlier, but you know how hands are in hair. “It’s not an option to tell them.”
“I see. It will take some time, but I will see if I can learn the correct procedure so that there will be minimal to no complications.” Hank pats you on the shoulder and motions for you to head out. He had some things to do and research to go over. Escorting you out of his lab so Hank may do what is necessary. He didn’t give a timeline, but you trust that he can do it before your time is up.
You really hope that he can do this.
After leaving the lab, you had to pass some of the other faculty. Or X-men? Yeah, it seems they are setting off on a mission of some sort. You pass Cyclops, Storm, Jean and. Yeah, that is exactly who you don’t want to see right now. Logan. Seems he is going with them. To, wherever they have to go. You give them all a small nod in acknowledgment as you pass them. Each one provides you a small smile or nods back.
Logan though? He pauses when you pass him. His face contorted into something you weren’t too sure of. He probably caught another whiff of the flowers on you. Great. The others give him a look and he just grunts at them. Somehow they understand and continue on their way. Leaving you with Logan.
A hand grabs your bicep, fingers wrapping around the muscle. Your gaze drops to the hand, in another life you were sure it would be rough with use, but it was surprisingly soft. The grip was not, natural strength hidden behind the hold. A promise that you would not be able to pull away without exerting yourself.
“You’re smellin’ worse. Thought I told you to let up.” A gruff voice, oh how you want to roll in that voice. That was a weird thought, you should probably stop thinking of that like a weirdo. God are you a weirdo?
An awkward laugh bubbles up from your chest. You can feel your own muscles tense under his hold and gaze. Damn he’s never looked at you like this before. A slight glare, crinckled nose, and a slight snarl on his lips. You must be really weird because damn was that kind of a hot look. Which somehow in turn makes your chest tighten and the tickle of a cough is trying to break free. You swallow hard to bite it back. Yet you can feel the petals moving through your throat. 
“Sorry sorry, I guess I overdid it?” You pull your eyes away from his. Unable to continue to look at his face. Be it from your weird thoughts, the tickle in your throat or your inability to keep eye contact with someone. “I swear I’m not doing it on purpose.”
“You’re hiding that you're sick.” The grip on your arm tightens. Not in a painful manner no, but a reminder that you cannot run away from this conversation. Which is odd right? Why does Logan care? You two hardly know each other. Sure you apparently love the man, but you’re still sure he doesn’t even know your name. You’ve seen him care for others in the mansion, a good friend in an odd way. A father figure and mentor to some of the students. Also in a weird way. You’re sure he’d brush off that idea and say he isn’t. He is.
Wait, he just said you’re sick… “I’m not sick?” 
Logan's eyes narrow as he stares at you. Do you look sick? Sure you’ve gotten a little pale and eating has gotten a little hard so you haven’t been eating as much as you usually do. Does being sick have a smell to it? Fuck that is weird. Well, some animals could tell when others are sick before physical symptoms show. Maybe that's how he knew. No, that wouldn’t make sense because you aren’t really sick. You just have a big fat crush that's killing you. 
You can tell Logan doesn’t believe you. “Just fix it. Can’t stand the smell on you.” His hand lets go and he stalks down the hallway to where the others had walked off to. Your eyes linger on his form as he walks away. The ghost of a feeling on your arm where his hand had wrapped around it. The slight warmth seeping into your skin slowly vanishes. God you’re fucked. 
~~ >:3 ~~
And fucked you are. It’s been at least two months since you told Hank about the hanahaki. Hank is taking his sweet ass time researching the procedure, the doctor you called has called back finally and mentioned that his next opening for a consultation was still months away. Which you decide to say fuck that guy, you trust Hank can do it. The doctor probably won’t even work on a mutant. Logan is still always at the corner of your eye. A scowl or sneer on his face anytime he looks at you. Not to mention the flowers! They’re getting worse.
Full blooms, multiple at a time. Their petals no longer loose around the center. Now they are tightly packed, fully bloomed and speckled with blood as they escape through your throat. Occasionally there would be a flower that had not bloomed yet. Still wrapped tightly, not fully formed. You weren’t sure what that meant, but you’re sure it wasn’t good. At least they were not roses. You feel bad for those who dealt with that. Thorns were something you were happy that was not in the mix of your own flower hell.
The flowers aren’t fully developed yet. Stems have not fallen with them. Yet you are unsure if you would survive long enough to see the end stages of hanahaki. Your body is getting weaker and weaker each day. Your own mutation even fighting against you. You can hardly call on it now. Once you had wished to be a normal person, but that has been years ago. Now you feel like you are losing a part of yourself. These damn flowers truly are killing you. Both physically and emotionally. 
You had to leave class more often. The coughs that tore through your chest made it unbearable to speak long enough to teach an entire class to its completion. Students start to worry, other faculty seem to notice the sudden change as you have to start asking for people to cover your class for you as you rush to the restroom to hug the porcelain throne to exude the flowers of love. Each time more and more petals fall from your lips, tears stain your cheeks more often due to the pain and energy it takes to clear them out from your throat. 
It has gotten to the point where you had to ask someone to cover your class in full, or cancel it. You don’t want to cancel your classes, but at the rate you are going it will be the only thing you can do. Today is probably the last full class you can handle, you feel like shit. Your throat itches, your stomach aches from the lack of food. Your head hurts because of the lack of sleep from the coughing. Yeah, you might have to take a break from it all. What surprises you is that Logan is waiting outside of your classroom.
Ok it’s not that surprising. You’ve been catching him outside your classroom since he came back. It is like he is suddenly more aware of you. He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes on you. You would be excited usually, your crush suddenly paying attention to you! How great is that? Yet lately it just makes things feel so much worse. Especially with that sneer on his face. You know he knows something is up, he made it clear two months ago. Though he hasn’t brought it up again. Yet he is always there. Like a shadow. 
Which is honestly a bit uncomfortable. You aren’t used to this amount of attention. 
“You don’t have to stand out here you know?” Papers you needed to grade were in your arms. You may need to take a break, but you should at least grade these papers before someone takes the class over. Your last bit of work. 
Logan just stares at you. The slight glare, the wrinkled nose, the arms crossing making those muscles bulge out of his shirt. You had to quickly drag your eyes away from his arms so you aren’t caught staring. You don’t meet his eyes though. It was too intense. 
“You’re getting worse.” Way to point out the obvious Logan.
“Good observation.” A short pause follows after. Silence falls for a few moments. “I uh, it’s why I’m takin a break. Sick leave? Uh… Yeah…” You really don’t know how to talk to him. The tickle in your throat is back again. Too soon, you just hacked up half your lung just moments before. You really don’t want to cough in front of him. You thought he might already know what it is, but he still thinks the smell on you is perfume. So no way do you want him to know the truth. 
Logan stares at you a few moments longer, a slight grunt. His head motioned for you to follow him. That’s how you read it at least as he starts to walk down the corridor and only pauses to look at you. Looks like you’re following him. This can’t end well can it? 
The two of you walk silently through the corridors. Your arms are still full of papers, but it seems the two of you are heading out into the garden. Probably for the best, the crisp air outside will dull the floral scent. Hopefully at least. Even if it lingers on your skin and it has gotten to the point others have even started to point it out. The halls were mostly empty though at this time. Most students are already off doing their own thing, you can vaguely hear a laughter from down the hall as the two of you finally make your way outside.
Into the garden, the cool air bites at your exposed arms. You should have worn a jacket. Too late for that now it seems. The trees are already turning orange, autumn making its way across the land. Oranges, reds and browns. If you weren’t full of anxiety you would be enjoying the sights. Especially as Logan brings you over to a small bench by the man-made pond. A bit away from everyone, but still close enough to the mansion you can dash inside if needed. 
You take a seat first. The papers sit beside you. Logan stands in front of you. Arms crossed and eyes narrowed. He isn’t sitting. Why isn’t he sitting?
“So uh…” Your voice comes out first, awkward and a bit unsure. The tickle in your throat grows again as you fight it back.
“It’s not perfume on you is it?” Logan’s gaze never leaves yours, but you can’t help but look away. Too uncomfortable with the eyes boring into you. You never once used perfume, though you did use that as an excuse didn’t you?
Silence followed after. Your eyes looking at the ground as you kick your legs back and forth. Unable to voice the truth. Logan is still looking at you, jaw clenching most likely. You don’t have to look at him to know.
His voice finally cuts through the silence. Apparently he was sick of you beating around the bush and not answering him. Your name on his lips startling you slightly. You honestly thought he didn’t know your name, but it seems you were wrong. “What's makin you so sick that it’s leaving you to look like that and smell like that.”
You should tell him. Tell him. TELL HIM. 
… 
You’ll tell him without actually telling him. You don’t think you’d survive telling him the full truth. You’re a pretty good liar most of the time. He might be able to pick through the lie but he’s not that perceptive right? 
“I uh… It’s.” You feel like you’re stumbling over your words, your throat constricting. “I have.”
You couldn’t finish your sentence. Your muscles tensing as a cough tears through you. Violently. Your body lurching forward as your hand shoots up to cover your lips as the cough pulls out petals and blossoms alike. Your hand can’t catch all the petals as they spill to the ground. Your eyes clenching shut as tears prickle the corners due to how painful it was. The other hand not covering your mouth grabs at your chest. As if you could claw the roots out through your skin. It burns. 
It burns, it burns, it burns. 
It won’t stop. You can’t stop hacking up the petals. Each cough brings out a sob with it as well. It has never been this bad. The scent of gardenias explodes. It burns your nose. You hate the smell of it. If you survive you’ll never be able to handle this scent again. Your body retching forward as you double over. Body crumpling in on itself as you try desperately to get some air into your already filled lungs. You would think having plants living in your lungs would give you more oxygen. If only it didn’t wrap tightly around your lungs and neighboring organs. Leaving little space for what you truly needed.
You almost forget Logan is there with you. An unexpected presence sits beside you. Warmth seeping into your side. He doesn’t set a comforting hand on your back. Doesn’t say any words. But him sitting beside you is enough comfort. You don’t think you could handle physical touch anyways. Your body would probably jerk harder at it. Hanahaki really was a killing disease wasn’t it. It was going to kill you before even getting to the final stage. You can’t do this.
Slowly the coughing fit lessens. The petals and blooms spilling from your mouth as if it was all you breathed came to a stop. Your body still hunched over, tears filling your eyes as you finally, finally stopped coughing up the damned flowers. You were still shaking, trying to catch the lost breath.
“You’re ok sweetheart. Just try and breathe.” Something large, heavy, warm rests on your upper back. Small soothing circles. He called you sweetheart, that was strange. You don’t expect comfort. You don’t think Logan expected to comfort you like this either. It was an awkward movement, but comforting. You wanted to lean into it, lean into him. You weren’t going to though. Pain was radiating through your chest and you weren’t sure you would be able to sit up straight without coughing again. Fear that any movement will bring on another coughing fit settled inside of you like a vice. You can still feel the slight tickle in your raw throat. 
You taste blood.
It takes a few tries, gasping tries, before air finally was able to fill your lungs enough that you could breathe properly. Or well, as well as you can with roots wrapping around your insides. You pull out a few petals that were still stuck in your mouth and let them fall to the ground as you slowly sit up. Still slightly hunched over but no longer practically hugging your legs. You wipe your mouth on the back of your hand, blood from your lips smearing across your skin. Eyes on the ground where the mess you made mocks you. There's so much, white and red. White flowers that you would have thought beautiful covered in splotches of your own blood. Tainting the gardenias, tainting the meaning of secret love. Disgusting. You’re disgusting. 
Your eyes linger on the ground as you finally speak. Voice raspy and strained. “Sorry.” 
“Nothin to be sorry about, nasty thing you got. Seen it a few times.” Logan’s voice is gruff, yet there is a touch of something tender in there. Unexpected. You don’t like it. He shouldn’t be treating you like this. He doesn’t know you, he doesn’t know that you’re like this because of him, because of your dumb crush on him that the world decided was good enough to practically kill you.  
Ok that’s not true. You know under his rough and tough demeanor and the huge, insensitive ass he could be. He’s caring and trustworthy. Loyal as fuck and self-sacrificing. It’s what had drawn you in in the first place. The soft look he’d give to people he cared about when no one was looking. The way he treats the younger mutants. It was heartwarming. Your admiration for him turned from simply looking up to him to wanting him to look at you that way.
Silence falls between the two of you again as you continue to try to take in oxygen. The taste of iron and earth is still on your tongue. The sound of fellow mutants distantly chatting and the occasional bird cuts through the silence. You don’t want to talk, you don’t want to tell him who your affliction derives from. You doubt he would ask, but he might. You’ll need to think of an excuse. A lie. Anything to keep him from finding out it is him. He’d reject you. You know this already. You’ve seen him look at others. He doesn’t look at you like that. You just learned he knew your name too! The two of you hardly spoke before. This is the most attention you have ever gotten from him. He doesn’t love you the way the disease needs him to. 
“Who's the asshole?” His words cut through the silence again. Surprising you once more. This definitely is the most words he has ever spoken to you.
“Doesn’t matter… He doesn’t feel the same.” Your throat continued to feel raw. It hurt to speak, but you needed to answer. You couldn’t stay quiet when he asked. Your gaze moves from the ground to glance at him from the side. You try not to meet his eyes but you can see a look on his face that had never been directed towards you. In any other situation you would be happy, ecstatic. Right now though, it makes your stomach tie up in uncomfortable knots. 
A slight hint of anger crosses Logan’s face and his hand just rests on your back, no longer rubbing those soothing circles. You know he wants to know. The look he has on him makes you think he sees you as someone under his protection, it’s nice. Even if it is not really what you want at the moment.
“So you’re willing to die for him.” There was a short pause between his words. His tone is soft, you don’t like it. “Seen most with it die that way. Shouldn’t have to die like that.”
You decide not to reply to the fact that you were willing to die for these feelings. Why? Because you still don’t want to believe it is true. Even with the flowers clearly showing signs the crush was love. Infatuation. You hate this. “Dr. Mccoy is going to perform the surgery for me. Should be any day now.”
You at least hope it will be any day now. You spoke to him a couple days ago and he seemed a bit all over the place so you couldn’t ask him if he was ready yet. You know he hadn’t forgotten, you saw the books laying on one of the tables next to some tools, but time was ticking and it was ticking fast. You know it and now… Now Logan knows it too. You’re on limited time. 
“I… can’t tell him. He doesn’t feel the same, he can’t. I’ll die if I tell him. I have to do the surgery. I’d rather chance not feeling love again than to confess and die. I…” Your hands curl into themselves as you look back down at the flowers. The tightening in your chest squeezes harder. You don’t need to explain yourself, but you feel like you have to. This way you can come to terms with it. Speaking it out loud makes it all too real. “I trust Dr.Mccoy. He won’t fail. He… he can’t.”
“Lotta trust in the guy.” Logan leans back on the bench, his hand lingering on your back removes itself as he crosses his arms. You feel the itch in your throat again, it’s too soon for more petals. You at least hope so. Logan then continues, “Remember watching someone choke on their own blood cause of that shit. Don’t want to see you on that end sweetheart.”
Logan called you sweetheart, again. It made butterflies fly around your stomach, churning with the anxiety already there. It was not the most comfortable of feelings. You weren’t expecting it this time either. It was nice. Would be nicer in better circumstances though. “Thanks Logan, but I’ll survive this. I have to…”
“Still think you should tell me who this asshole is. Could talk to him.” You hear the familiar snikt sound, a clear sign he extended his claws. A glance over was all you needed to confirm he did, the light gleaming off the metal. 
“God no! Sure actions speak louder than words for him, but it wont help.” Because he’d be threatening himself. You couldn’t help but let a pathetic laugh bubble up. Pain radiating through your chest and throat as you do so. At least you can still find some humor in this. Logan’s claws go right back under his skin and between his knuckles at your words. Though you can tell he still seemed interested in using violence against who is causing this for you. God, you wish you could tell him.
The two of you fall into another silence. Your own thoughts are swirling through your head and you’re sure Logan is also dealing with his own thoughts. Your disease is now out there. What truly ales you has been revealed without you actually saying the words. You wished you could have said the words, said what it was, told him your feelings. Though things never work out that way do they. 
You aren’t sure how this was going to end.
Logan looks at you the same time you gaze at him. Your eyes meet his blue ones. You would wax poetic about his eyes, but that seems pretty cliche. Everyone always does when talking about blue eyes, how they look like the ocean, or the sky. Logan’s reminds you of steel, the silvery blue that almost matches the adamantium claws you see on occasion. There is something in those eyes though, something you can’t read. Something behind that wall everyone knows he puts up. You want to dig deeper, fall into those eyes to avoid all your problems. Be free of the pain you can’t escape. The two of you seem to just stare at each other far longer than it felt. 
“Tell me when you get the surgery. I want to be there.” 
“...Okay.”
And just like that, the two of you break eye contact and fall into a silence. A silence only broken by the occasional cough from you and the sounds of nature and other mutants about. You wish you could have experienced this sooner. Before your world decided to crash down on you. You’ll just have to enjoy the time with him like this while you can. Before the feelings you have for him are forever torn away. Leaving only a hollow space in your chest for the fellow mutant. 
You’re not ready. 
~~ :3 !! ~~
Hank Mccoy finally let you know he was ready to do the surgery a few days after your chat with Logan. You weren’t ready for it. You didn’t want to lose these feelings, you didn’t want the complications that may follow, but fuck you don’t want to die either. You will die if you don’t do this surgery. You can’t… You have to do this. 
Which is why you are outside of the room Logan usually occupies when he is in the mansion. You've been standing outside of his room for what felt like hours now. You knew he probably could hear your heartbeat, but he isn’t coming out. He asked to be there when you got the surgery. He wanted to support you for some reason. You could just go, leave and get the surgery without telling him. Your anxiety welling up along with the urge to throw up. Your hand is already raised before you could stop yourself and you knock three times.
Silence follows after. The sound of shuffling and the door opens. Logan standing there in one of those slutty little white tank tops and jeans. A classic look that was all too hot in your opinion. Your mouth feels dry as he looks at you.
“I’m getting it now.” You rub your arm, unable to look him in the eyes. You do look at his face though. Just long enough to see shock cross his face for a few seconds, which quickly vanished back behind his usual look. Logan steps out of his room and shuts the door, head tilting to the side a bit as he waits for you to start walking to Hank’s lab. 
The two of you walk silently through the halls. It was late in the afternoon. You could have gotten it earlier in the day but your body was so exhausted from the coughing fit you had that night that you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of bed. In fact you’re still in your pajamas mostly. Sweatpants and a t-shirt. Comfy. You’re going into surgery, you deserve not to dress up for it. Logan doesn’t comment on it either so it’s fine. You’re fine. 
Everything is fine.
The two of you enter the lab quietly. No one else seems to be here but Hank. After all, one else knew. People knew you were sick of course, but you kept a tight lip on what exactly was inflicting you.
Hank greets you with your name. A look of surprise as his eyes drop onto Logan. Quickly he glanced back at you and you just shrugged your shoulders slightly. Letting Hank know the situation. How Logan knew what was wrong with you and wanted to be here with you. Moral support from the emotionally constipated x-men. Well, mostly constipated. 
After going over the procedures and what needed to be done you step behind the curtains, changing into one of those flimsy hospital gowns. The cool air nipping at your skin as you bite your bottom lip. You were scared. You didn’t want this. You couldn’t do this. You can’t do this! You don’t want to lose your feelings for Logan. He just now is starting to show you attention. It’s not fair! You shouldn’t have to deal with this! You can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t. 
“Are you okay?” Hank's voice cuts through your spiral. Eyes watering and your chest heaving. Ohm you were crying. No, you were sobbing again. Your hands are shaking at your side. You glance at the curtain that hid you from the other two. You know they heard you crying, heard you falling apart. How embarrassing. Your hand grips at the gown, bunching it up at your chest as you take a shaky breath. Lungs barely able to hold a full inhale. 
“Yeah… Yeah sorry. I’m ok. I’m ready.” You step out from behind the curtain. Clear concern was on the blue mutant's face. You can’t read the others. You don’t like this. You silently pad over to the table, bed, whatever it is, that is set up for you. Another strained breathe and you sit on the surface. A glance at the two of them and you lay back. You’re surprised the professor wasn’t here to help out. Maybe he wasn’t needed. Hank could handle this on his own. You can handle this. Logan was here, you didn’t want him here, but it was a strange comfort knowing the man you loved was here to support you. Even if said surgery would remove all feelings for him. How poetic. 
You stare at the ceiling, unsure of what to do as Hank moves around you. Logan who had been leaning on the wall walks over and takes your hand in his. Holding it as if you would shatter at the softest of touches. You hate it. 
“Offer still stands darlin’. Can make the guy love you back.” Although the words would work well in a teasing tone. There was a hint of seriousness behind it. Like he didn’t want you to go under. To have the gardenias removed from your chest. Your hand squeezes his weakly. You knew you didn’t have much time left. You had to do this or confess. Only one of those was an actual option.
Hank returns and holds up the mask. You lift your head up as he slides it over your mouth and nose. It’s too late. You can feel the tears threatening to fall again. You’re scared. Your grip on Logan’s hand tightens as Hank moves around you, making sure you’re hooked up correctly. Your vision starts to blur slightly. You try to inhale the gas as deeply as you could, it hurt. Your lungs didn’t want to fill, you think you can feel the roots wiggling deeper through your lungs and closer to your heart. Your eyes are on Logan, fear clearly radiating off of you. Your own eyes showing the anxiety inside of you. Logan just stands strong next to you. Like a silent guard. 
As the world starts to blacken around you, the corners of the room vanishing slowly. You couldn’t help yourself. You were getting the surgery. You can say the words now. It won’t matter. Your head was already floating and consciousness was fading. Eyes focusing on Logan, like a tunnel. All you could see was him as the world around you slowly vanished into nothingness.   Three words slipped out of you without much thought.
“I love you.” 
The world shifts and the world goes dark. 
The quiet beeping echos. A steady rhythm that matches the slight pounding in your head. Your eyes slowly open, only to quickly shut again. The lights were a bit too bright and everything was… Numb. Your mouth feels dry and you physically can’t feel anything. Did the surgery go wrong? Why can’t you feel anything? A groan bubbles up from your throat as you force your eyes to open. That’s when you feel it.
You can feel every muscle, every fiber of the blanket covering you. The heaviness in your chest is gone. You take a breath. You can… You can take a breath. Your lungs are fully filled with oxygen. Chest rising higher than it has in months. You can breathe. Your eyes open again, the bright fluorescent lights above you illuminate the room. You tilt your head away from looking up at the ceiling. Eyes moving around the room. Gaze falling on the little monitor you’re hooked up to. The beeping was your heartbeat. Ok. That looked good. 
Your head turns the other direction as you take in another sweet deep breath. Eyes landing on Logan. He was still here, sitting beside your bed, head lolled to the side clearly asleep. Your chest tightens in the familiar feeling you have been dealing with for months. That can’t be right. You shouldn’t still be feeling this longing. You shouldn’t still be feeling the warmth that spreads through you over the fact that he had stayed. You shouldn’t be feeling the soft tug on your heart as you look at him or the soft smile pulling on your lips.
This was wrong. Something was wrong. You raise the arm that wasn’t hooked up to all the devices and set it on your chest. There was pain there, raw and uncomfortable, but there was no bump on your chest to show there was a bandage, no pain pulling at your skin. The pain you felt was all under your skin. This isn’t right, something is wrong. Your chest felt clear but you have no evidence that you underwent the surgery. You force yourself to sit up. Pain shoots down your spine. You groaned in pain and a hand was suddenly pressing down on your shoulder. Forcing you back onto the bed. Logan had gotten up.
“Logan?” Your voice was scratchy. It felt just like the times you coughed up all those flowers when he found out. “What… What’s going on? Why do I…” 
“Yeah it’s me. Lay back down. Can’t have you moving around too much yet.” Logan’s hand was still on your shoulder, a gentle pressure making you lay back down onto the bed. Your eyebrows furrowing in confusion at the look he is giving you. You can’t read him. “Don’t talk too much either. Hank said you got to heal.”
Yet you’re pretty sure you didn’t get the surgery though! You should be dead. You… You told Logan how you felt. How you still feel. Yet the urge to cough is gone. Your chest feeling lighter than it has since before the disease took its hold on your life. That has to mean something. Something happened when you went under. What happened? Why won’t he tell you? Why is he looking at you like that? 
Logan’s hand finally pulled away from your shoulder. He just stares down at you as you stare at him. Silence falls between you two. His hand then slowly moves again. Your eyes darting down to the hand. Slowly his hand goes to push some hair out of your face. The same look he has been giving you for the past few months crosses his face. You still don’t know what it means, but it is making your stomach flip. 
“Glad you didn’t die for a guy like me. World be a lot darker without you in it.” His hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing your cheek. His hand was soft and warm. The touch a bit too tender for someone like him.
Wait. Wait wait wait. He heard you. He heard what you said before going under. You didn’t go through the surgery yet your chest feels lighter than it should. That could only mean one thing. Your eyes go wide in surprise and your lips part as you go to speak. Pain still itching at your throat.
“You heard me…” Of course he heard you! He was right next to you holding your hand. He has enhanced senses. He heard you confess. He heard you say you loved him. You’re still alive, you still feel for him and you confessed! That has to mean. Your face suddenly lights up. Heat pooling both on your cheeks and in your stomach. There is only one explanation. There is only one way you were able to live and still feel this way. Logan loved you back. That doesn’t make sense though! Before you started smelling like flowers the two of you never spoke to one another. Yet he…
He loved you back.
“Yeah, I did. Could have told me sooner to save you the pain. Told ya I’d make sure the guy felt the same.” His hand leaves your face. He turns to grab the chair he had been sitting in before and pulls it over. The chair legs screeching across the floor making you flinch at the noise. Once the chair was next to you he sat down and took your hand in his again. Once more treating you like glass. Though you appreciate it, you feel like glass right now. 
Logan lifts your hand up to his face, blue eyes staring straight into your own as his lips find your knuckles. Leaving a soft kiss. You were already blushing before, but you swear you feel like you’re on fire. His lips brushing against your knuckles as he speaks once more. You really aren’t used to hearing him speak so much. “Looks like we got a lot to talk about sweetheart.”
You just silently nod, unable to break your gaze from his. Your hand is lowered, your heart beating out of your chest. You are sure he can hear it. You lick your lips, unable to speak a word out of fear you’ll embarrass yourself further. Logan just chuckles slightly, a deep reverberating one. 
“Guess I should say it, not really good with the emotions shit, but I love you too.”
A few blinks and then a small laugh comes out of you. A wince follows after, but the biggest grin spreads on your face. All it took was you almost dying to finally hear those three little words. You’ll never look at gardenias the same again, nor will you be able to stand the sickly sweet smell of a strong floral scent. That doesn’t matter to you though. You obtained something you thought was unattainable. The love of the man you were in love with. The secret love no longer hidden. 
You can now understand the look Logan was giving you. It was the same you had been giving him. You both were in love with each other but were unsure how to go about it. All it took was the flowers that no longer were growing inside of you. 
You finally say the words, more confident than when you went under. “I love you.” 
“Love you too sweetheart.” 
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yuri-is-online · 2 days
Note
Jade desperately googling and reading threads about mer x human pregnancies before he even dates yuu.
It differs from species to species, usually fem mer x male human results in viable pregnancies, there are a two articles about eels and humans, but none about morays.
His hope is dwindling, and the general consensus about deep sea folk relationships with humans isn't very good.
I HC that male mer x female human pregnancies don't last very long. After the sperm makes contact with an egg, it'll need a few months of growth before it's expelled from the body and put into the sea. Those kinds of couples usually have one child at a time, it depends on the number of available eggs.
Modern day people in twst have aquariums that are made to hold the clutches in a safe environment away from predators. The aquariums can be used both underwater and on land. After 'hatching' the babies are translucent, they are kept in the aquariums until they gain colour. Once they have enough colour they are let out.
The smallest aquariums need to hold at least one human adult, so that a parent can interact and communicate with their clutch during the growing process.
I think I read a post/fic with a similar headcannon to this? Long long ago, perhaps even before I even downloaded Twisted Wonderland. I don't fully remember... but it is something I have been thinking about a decent bit ever since you sent this ask because it raises so many questions.
I think it makes the most sense in human x mer relationships for one or the other to take a transformation potion and move onto the land/into the sea. In these cases pregnancy/egg laying would go as it would "normally" but what you're suggesting made me think about what would happen if a couple got it on raw in their normal forms and not transformed. Would that result in a viable pregnancy? If it did would it produce the sorts of offspring you are suggesting or would it result in some sort of hybrid child, barely held together by their own magic?
The aquariums are a good idea, the story seems to suggest that Jade and Floyd had other siblings once but they didn't make it. Their mother's obsession with checking up on them and teaching self defense makes a lot of sense if you think of that... she lost most of her babies, she wants the two she has to remain safe (i bet she's going feral rn, let Mama Leech into the enclosure S.T.Y.X. she'll put Malleus in his place ٩(๑`^´๑)۶) My question is whether or not that would interfere with the development of the eggs, especially on land. The deep ocean is very cold, recreating that on land could be problematic. With how few merfolk seem to bother with land (Azul mentions not many people bother with the free program in Book 6) there likely wouldn't be much of anyone thinking up a solution to this problem so few people have.
But Jade has that problem. Or will, he's sure of it but that's a minor detail- point is this is a problem he's actively thinking about. It keeps him awake at night, Jade strikes me as someone who would do a lot of research about this. It's part of how he loves, pouring through a pile of scientific articles that was slim to begin with but feel irrelevant now. None of these help him understand his chances because he is from the deep sea, Jade might be hardened towards the death of his siblings but he thinks of his own children and a rage unlike any he's ever known begins to stir in the pit of his stomach. Later, much later when he is explaining this all to you he will brush it off as him considering your human sensibilities, but the truth is written plain on his face. This little aquarium he has made was a solution painstakingly crafted with help from his own obsessions. It's the most important terrarium he has ever made because it will contain the most precious of all life forms, ones he watches grow in awe as he coos softly. These children were wanted long before they were ever born, their parents loved them to the point of invention and every second up until they hatch and forever after.
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kckt88 · 3 days
Text
A Heartbeat Between Us IX
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Summary:
In the wake of Y.N's departure, Aemond wallows in his heartbreak until a surprising person comes to his aid and as certain revelations come to light Aemond is determined to fight for his relationship and show Y.N how much he loves her.
Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Fluff, Tension, Swearing, Idiocy, Revelations, Memories, Kissing, Smut, Fingering, Oral Sex, P in V.
AEMOND x Y.N
Word Count: 7340
A.N - Most of the story is already written, as I start a new job on Saturday :-)
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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.
Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole @toodlesxcuddles @mamawiggers1980 @minttea07 @nommingonfood
The days that followed Y.N.’s departure blurred into an agonizing haze for Aemond. He spent most of his time on the sofa, whiskey bottle in hand, sinking deeper into despair.
The once pristine penthouse was now littered with empty bottles, discarded clothes, and half-eaten food. He hadn't showered, hadn't gone to work. He was lost in his grief, his regret festering with every passing hour.
He lay face down on the sofa, the leather cold against his skin as the weight of everything bore down on him. His thoughts spiralled as the familiar sting of tears pricked his eye again.
The door creaked open, but he didn’t bother to move. He assumed it was some kind of hallucination, a product of his misery coming to taunt him.
Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder, warm and solid. Startled, he turned his head and blinked up at the figure standing beside him.
It was Aegon.
Without a word, Aegon knelt down beside him and wrapped his arms around Aemond’s trembling body, pulling him into a tight, protective embrace.
Aemond’s resolve crumbled completely. The sobs he had been trying to suppress for days burst out, raw and broken, as he clung to his brother like a lifeline.
Aegon held him firmly, his hand gently running over the back of Aemond’s head, hushing him softly. "It’s okay," he whispered. "Just let it out, Aemond. I’ve got you."
Aemond's words were barely coherent through the tears. "How-how did you know?" he choked out, his voice thick with sorrow.
Aegon sighed softly, still holding him. "Y.N”
Aemond pulled back slightly, his swollen eye searching his brother’s face. "Is she with you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, desperate for any hint of hope.
Aegon shook his head, his expression soft with sympathy. "No, she’s not. She called and asked me to come check on you”
“D-Do you know where she is?” asked Aemond.
“No. She didn’t tell me where she is. She just-wanted to make sure you were okay."
Aemond’s heart twisted painfully in his chest. She hadn’t abandoned him completely—she still cared enough to send Aegon.
But the uncertainty of where she was, whether she’d ever come back, gnawed at him like a festering wound.
"I’ve lost her, Aegon," he whispered, his voice broken. "I’ve lost everything."
Aegon looked at him with a mix of sadness and frustration. "You haven’t lost everything. You’ve still got a chance to fix this, but not if you keep drowning yourself in booze." He glanced around the messy penthouse and sighed. "You need to pull yourself together, brother."
Aemond shook his head, tears spilling down his face again. "I don’t know if I can. I pushed her away. I let Alys-I let her ruin everything."
Aegon tightened his grip on his shoulder. "You made a mistake. But you don’t get to give up now. Not on her, not on Jack." His voice softened, filled with an unusual tenderness. "She loves you, Aemond. I’ve seen it. And you love her. So, fight for her. Fight for your family."
Aemond swallowed hard, his hands trembling as he tried to wipe the tears from his face. He was a mess, broken beyond recognition.
But Aegon’s words pierced through the fog of despair just enough to remind him of what he still had—a chance, however small, to make things right.
"Where do I even start?" Aemond whispered, more to himself than to Aegon.
Aegon gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Start by cleaning yourself up. Get back on your feet. And when she’s ready to listen, you tell her everything. You show her how much she means to you. But first, you need to be the man she fell in love with—not this."
Aemond nodded weakly, the weight of his guilt and sorrow still heavy on his chest, but for the first time in days, a faint glimmer of hope flickered inside him.
He wasn’t ready to give up on Y.N. Not yet.
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After days of wallowing in self-pity, Aemond finally stood up, determined to clean himself up—both literally and figuratively.
The penthouse was a disaster, a reflection of his inner turmoil. Empty bottles, crumpled clothes, and discarded takeout containers were strewn everywhere.
He started with the mess. Collecting the bottles, he threw them into the recycling bin, tidied up the living room, and straightened the cushions on the sofa.
With each action, he felt a sliver of control returning, a faint hope that he could fix not just the penthouse but his life, too. When the living space was back in order, he made his way to the bathroom.
A long shower followed, steam filling the room as he stood beneath the hot water. Afterward, he shaved, carefully watching his own reflection in the mirror.
His face, now clean-shaven, still bore the marks of sleepless nights and too much drinking, but it was a start. He dressed in a crisp suit, as if putting on armour, preparing for the day ahead.
The next morning, Aemond arrived at the office, trying to compose himself. He sat in his chair, hands on the desk, staring blankly at the papers in front of him when the door opened.
Rhaenyra walked in, her presence commanding the room immediately. She shut the door behind her and gave him a stern look, arms crossed.
"Where have you been, Aemond?" she asked, her tone sharp. "You’ve missed the last few days without a word."
Aemond sighed, running a hand through his freshly washed hair. "Y.N. left me," he admitted, his voice quiet but heavy with pain. "She took Jack and I didn’t take it well."
Rhaenyra’s expression softened slightly. "Does this have anything to do with Alys?" she asked, and Aemond’s head snapped up in surprise.
"How do you know about that?"
"I overheard Larys arguing with her. I’m sure you’re not surprised, considering how intertwined our businesses can be."
Aemond frowned, leaning forward. "What was said?"
Rhaenyra sat down across from him. "Larys wasn’t too happy with her vendetta against you. Apparently, he warned her off a while ago. When she wouldn’t back off, he cut ties with her."
Aemond’s expression darkened. "She told me she parted ways with Larys to pursue her own career."
Rhaenyra scoffed. "Not exactly. She was trying to go it alone because Larys ended their partnership. He didn’t want her personal issues interfering with his deals, especially with Targaryen Inc."
Aemond felt a deep pang of humiliation. "I feel like a fool. I even recommended clients to her."
Rhaenyra gave him a pointed look. "It’s a shame then that the clients you recommended had contracts signed with Targaryen Inc, not with Alys’s company."
Aemond blinked. "How?"
"It was a mix-up with one of the assistants. They handed over the wrong contracts for the clients to sign. A total misunderstanding, of course. The assistant has been reprimanded, but the contracts remain valid."
Aemond shook his head. "So, I’ve been recommending clients to her, but they’re still contracted with us."
"Exactly. But you need to cut ties with Alys—completely. She’s not going to be happy when she realizes those clients aren’t really hers."
Aemond nodded, rubbing a hand over his face. "I’m done with her. I should’ve been done with her the moment she reached out. I was trying to right a wrong, but all I did was make things worse."
Rhaenyra regarded him thoughtfully. "Don’t be too hard on yourself, Aemond. Any man who tries to fix his mistakes isn’t a total fool."
Aemond scoffed. "Well, I sure feel like one. It’s cost me Y.N. and Jack."
Rhaenyra smiled faintly. "Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Y.N. is entitled to feel angry and hurt, but it’s because she loves you. I could tell by the way she talked about you."
Aemond furrowed his brow, hope flickering in his chest. "Wait-how do you know?"
Rhaenyra slid a piece of card across the desk toward him. Aemond picked it up, staring at the address written on it.
"What is this?" he asked, his voice wavering.
"It’s where Y.N. and Jack are staying."
Aemond’s heart pounded. "I didn’t know where she was," he said quietly, almost in disbelief.
"That’s why Y.N. came to me," Rhaenyra explained. "She needed some time away to think things through. She just needed space."
Aemond met Rhaenyra’s eyes, his voice softer now. "Why are you helping me? We haven’t always been close."
Rhaenyra’s smile was gentle, almost wistful. "No, we haven’t. But we’re family, Aemond. And perhaps if things had gone differently in the past, we would’ve been closer. Nothing can make up for the loss of your eye, but maybe this is a start."
Aemond watched her rise from her chair, and as she reached the door, he called out, curiosity tugging at him.
“The assistant that mixed up the contracts-who was it?"
Rhaenyra smiled as she turned back to him, amusement in her eyes. "It was Jacaerys." With that, she left the office, leaving Aemond to stare after her, the card still clutched in his hand.
He looked down at the address, hope swelling in his chest once again. Maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to fix everything.
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Aemond stepped into the elevator, the metallic doors sliding shut behind him with a soft ping. He glanced up and froze when he saw Jacaerys standing at the far end of the lift.
For a few long seconds, silence stretched between them, thick and awkward.
Aemond cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "Rhaenyra told me what happened with the contracts for Alys."
Jace shifted slightly, crossing his arms. "Yeah, unfortunate mistake," he said casually, though the underlying meaning wasn’t lost on either of them. "Guess I wasn’t paying enough attention."
Aemond's gaze sharpened, and he turned to face Jace fully. "Why did you do it?"
Jacaerys sighed, his eyes fixed on the floor before he met Aemond’s one-eyed stare. "My mother wasn’t the only one to overhear Larys and Alys arguing, I heard what she said about wanting to get back at you-”
Aemond was taken aback. He hadn't expected Jace to get involved in this, not after everything between them. "But-you hate me," Aemond said slowly, narrowing his eyes.
Jace shook his head. "I don’t hate you, Aemond. I just really dislike you." A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, and Aemond huffed a quiet, surprised laugh. "There’s a slight difference."
Aemond looked down, almost disbelieving at this turn of events. He hadn’t expected Jacaerys of all people to interfere in a way that helped him. "Thank you."
Jace shrugged, his tone dismissive. "I didn’t do it for you. I did it for Y.N." He paused, his voice softening slightly. "I thought that she was the love of my life. But I’m not hers. You are"
The elevator doors pinged open at the ground floor, revealing the lobby ahead.
Aemond stood there, stunned, processing Jace’s words. He blinked, still finding it hard to believe.
"Even after everything that’s happened?" Aemond asked, his voice low.
Jace gave a small, encouraging nod. "Yes. Even after everything." He met Aemond’s eye seriously before jerking his head toward the exit. "Now stop wasting time talking to me and go get your girl."
Aemond nodded, gratitude bubbling up inside him as he stepped out of the lift. "Thanks again."
Jace smirked and called out after him, "Let’s not make a habit out of this."
As the elevator doors slid shut behind him, Aemond felt a spark of hope ignite in his chest.
The world seemed a little brighter, and for the first time in days, the path ahead didn’t feel so uncertain.
Jace's words echoed in his mind, propelling him forward. It was time to fix what he had broken, he just needed to figure out how.
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Aemond stood in front of the modest block of flats, feeling a lump form in his throat as he stared up at the building. This was the address Rhaenyra had given him.
He clutched a bouquet of pink roses tightly in his hand, trying to steel his nerves.
Before he could gather his thoughts, the blare of his car horn startled him. He whipped around to see Aegon leaning out the window, impatient.
"Come the fuck on, Aemond! Get up there, I’m bored of waiting," Aegon called out.
Aemond snapped, "It’s been five minutes!"
"More like five years with how slow you’re moving. Just get up there, and text me if she agrees or not." Aegon flicked through the car’s radio as if this was just another one of his casual outings.
With a huff, Aemond turned back to the building and walked through the entrance, leaving Aegon to amuse himself.
Inside, the place was quiet, starkly different from his sleek penthouse or even Y.N.’s old apartment. This was simpler, more modest.
He called for the lift, his heart pounding as it carried him to the fifth floor. He stepped out, taking slow strides down the hallway until he reached apartment 143.
Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.
After a few moments, the door creaked open, revealing Y.N. standing there, looking as beautiful and calm as ever despite the tension between them.
Aemond cleared his throat. "Can I come in?"
Y.N. stepped aside, silently motioning for him to enter. As he walked in, he handed her the bouquet. "These are for you."
She accepted them with a small smile. "Thank you." As she moved to put the roses in a jug of water, Aemond glanced around the apartment.
It was bare, minimal, but it felt warm and lived in. His gaze fell on Jack, nestled in a small pile of pillows and blankets on the floor, wide awake and squirming.
Aemond’s voice softened. "May I?"
Y.N. nodded. "He just woke up."
Aemond knelt beside his son, feeling a surge of emotion as Jack recognized him, flashing a gummy smile.
His little legs kicked in excitement, and Aemond’s heart melted.
He scooped him up, holding him close and inhaling his baby scent. "Daddy’s missed you so much, little one."
Y.N., meanwhile, busied herself with arranging the roses in a jug. "I don’t have a vase," she explained almost apologetically. "I don’t have much of anything here, really. Just the basics."
Aemond glanced at her. "Are you okay for money? For things for Jack?"
"I’m fine," she assured him, though her voice was soft, almost distant. "I figured you came here to talk."
"I did." Aemond nodded, still cradling Jack in his arms as he paced around the apartment. "What made you turn to Rhaenyra for help?"
"I went to Helaena first," Y.N. said, not meeting his gaze. "But it was her who contacted Rhaenyra. We both knew you’d come around eventually, and I didn’t want to bring trouble to Helaena’s door."
Aemond frowned, a flash of guilt crossing his face. "I would never hurt Helaena."
Y.N. finally looked up at him. "Just like you wouldn’t hurt Aegon? He told me you punched him in the face."
Aemond grimaced. "I thought Aegon didn’t know where you were."
"He didn’t." Y.N. raised an eyebrow. "There is such a thing as text messages, you know."
Aemond sighed, bouncing Jack gently in his arms as he moved around the apartment, trying to find the right words. "Did Rhaenyra tell you about Alys?"
"The mistake with the contracts or her vendetta against you?" Y.N. asked, her voice steady but edged with hurt.
Aemond let out a humourless laugh. "Both."
"Yes, she told me," Y.N. said, her tone shifting to something softer.
Aemond nodded, guilt gnawing at him. "I feel like a fool," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "I just-I thought I was making amends for what happened, trying to right my wrongs. But I see now how wrong I was."
"I know," Y.N. said quietly, watching him as he held their son. There was no malice in her voice, only weariness.
"As angry as I am at you, I’m angry at myself too," she added after a beat. Aemond looked up, surprised.
"Why?" he asked.
"For letting Alys drive a wedge between us," Y.N. explained, her voice trembling slightly. "What you did was stupid, yes. You should have just apologized and sent her on her way. But you didn’t. And it allowed her to come between us."
Aemond’s heart clenched. "I’m sorry. I should’ve seen through her manipulation. I never meant to hurt you."
Y.N. sighed, her eyes meeting his, filled with conflicted emotions. "I know," she whispered.
The room fell silent for a moment, the only sound the soft gurgles of Jack in Aemond's arms as they stood together, caught between love and uncertainty.
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Aemond stood there, the weight of uncertainty heavy in the air. His gaze was locked on Y.N., his heart pounding with a desperate question.
“Is there any hope for us?” His voice was almost a whisper, thick with emotion.
Y.N. looked down, her fingers twisting together as she struggled to find the right words. "I-I don't know," she said softly, her voice tinged with the pain of their shared past.
“Please,” Aemond implored, stepping closer, his voice raw and vulnerable. “Just give me a chance to prove how much I love you.”
Y.N. sighed, meeting his eye. “And how are you going to do that, Aemond?”
Without hesitation, Aemond pulled out his phone and quickly sent a text. “I’m going to show you,” he said simply, his voice filled with quiet determination.
Moments later, there was a knock at the door. Aemond opened it, revealing Aegon, who immediately reached for Jack with a grin.
“Look at my little buddy!” Aegon cooed as he scooped Jack into his arms. “I’ve missed you so much” as Jack gurgled happily, clearly thrilled to see his uncle.
Aegon then handed Aemond a carrier bag.
Aemond turned to Y.N. and, with a gentle smile, held the bag out to her. “Go get changed.”
Y.N. blinked, a mix of curiosity and reluctance in her expression. She glanced between Aemond and Aegon before taking the bag and disappearing into the bedroom.
A few minutes later, she re-emerged, wearing a stunning blue chiffon lace midi dress. The delicate fabric flowed around her, and the soft lace highlighted her elegance.
Aemond’s breath caught in his throat as he gazed at her. “You look beautiful,” he said, his voice thick with awe. A faint blush spread across Y.N.'s cheeks as she looked away shyly.
Aegon, ever the distraction, chimed in with a playful grin. “Well, I’m here to babysit Jack, so you two better get going and have a great time.” He paused, glancing around the apartment. “Now, where are the takeout menus?”
Y.N. laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t actually have any, but you could always google some.”
Aegon stared at her in mock disbelief. “What kind of person doesn’t have takeout menus? Honestly.”
Aemond smirked. “One who doesn’t live off takeaways, like you.”
Aegon scoffed, shaking his head. “Pot, kettle, brother. That’s all you’ve been eating lately.”
Aemond winced slightly, catching Y.N.’s curious glance. He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly admitting, “I didn’t feel like cooking.”
Aegon let out a loud, exaggerated sigh. “Didn’t feel like showering either. Honestly, he was rank”
Y.N. chuckled softly, shaking her head at the brothers’ banter. She leaned down, pressing a kiss to Jack’s head, her voice soft and maternal. “Food for Jack is in the fridge, and you just need to-”
“—heat it up,” Aegon interrupted, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it. We’ll be just fine. Don’t worry about a thing.”
Aemond leaned over to bid Jack farewell, pressing a gentle kiss to his son’s head. Then, he turned to Y.N., extending his hand to her. “Shall we?”
Y.N. hesitated for a split second before placing her hand in his.
The moment their fingers intertwined, Aemond felt his heart skip a beat. It was a simple touch, but it was enough to fill him with hope.
As they walked out the door, Aegon called after them, already settling into the sofa with Jack in his arms. “You better text me if this goes well! I’ve got a bet going with Daeron”
Aemond ignored him, focused entirely on Y.N., as they stepped into the hallway. His heart raced with anticipation.
Whatever happened tonight, he was determined to show her just how much she meant to him.
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Aemond led Y.N. through the grand gardens of Targaryen Manor, the evening air cool and soft against their skin.
Y.N. glanced around, admiring the place, but a flicker of curiosity crossed her face as she asked, "Why have you brought me here?"
Aemond smiled gently, his grip tightening on her hand as they continued walking. “You’ll see,” he murmured.
"Is Otto going to be here?" she asked, a hint of concern in her voice.
Aemond shook his head. “No. He’s away visiting Gwayne, and my mother’s having dinner with Helaena tonight.”
“So, it’s just us?” Y.N. asked softly.
“Just us,” he confirmed, but instead of leading her into the manor, he took a turn and guided her toward the sprawling gardens.
Y.N.’s breath hitched as they stepped into a secluded area. Laid out before her was an elegantly prepared picnic, illuminated by soft lanterns hanging from the trees, casting a warm glow over the scene.
A blanket was spread neatly on the grass, adorned with a variety of delicacies, surrounded by delicate flowers in bloom.
“Aemond,” Y.N. gasped, taking in the sight, a smile tugging at her lips. “You did this?”
“I had a little help,” Aemond admitted, his eye glinting with affection.
“Helaena?” Y.N. guessed, knowing his sister's touch was all over this. Aemond nodded, smiling.
As they stood there for a moment, Aemond moved behind her, gently turning her to face the manor.
He rested his hands lightly on her waist, his lips close to her ear. “Second floor,” he whispered, pointing toward the house. “Third from the left.”
Y.N. squinted, trying to figure out the significance. “It’s-a window?” she asked, confused.
Aemond chuckled softly. “Yes. That’s where I was standing the first time I saw you.”
Y.N. gasped, her head snapping toward him. “Really?”
He nodded, his voice low and reminiscent. “I was lying on my bed, and I heard you laughing. So, I got up, went to the window, and watched you. You were with Helaena, completely mesmerized when that butterfly landed on your hand. She wanted to keep it, but you-” he paused, a small smile playing on his lips, “-you let it fly free.”
Y.N. smiled at the memory. She had always loved butterflies, and the way Helaena cherished each one.
Aemond then led her toward a nearby hedge, stopping once they reached it. “And it was here,” he said, tracing his hand over the leaves, “-that you first saw my scar.”
“The wind blew your hood off,” Y.N. remembered, her voice gentle.
Aemond’s eye locked on hers, his voice soft. “Do you remember what you said to me?”
Y.N. nodded, her throat tightening as she whispered, “I told you not to hide. That your scar showed that you were brave.”
Aemond swallowed hard, the emotion in his chest swelling as he guided her back to the picnic blanket.
They both sat down, and after a moment of silence, Aemond opened the basket and pulled out an old, worn notebook.
“This-” he said, handing it to her, “-is where I wrote down all the things I wanted to say but couldn’t.”
Y.N. hesitated before gently taking the notebook from him. As she opened it, the sight of Aemond’s messy scrawl made her heart flutter.
She began reading through the childhood musings, and each entry hit her like a wave of nostalgia.
The early entries were sweet, filled with the innocent thoughts of a boy. Aemond had written about how pretty he thought she was, how special it made him feel when she called him brave.
Then she read about how much he liked her but was too afraid to tell her, fearing rejection.
As she turned the pages, she came across entries about their childhood, how she would read to him during sleepovers to help with his headaches.
Each word tugged at her heartstrings.
Then, the tone changed as they got older. Aemond’s words became more conflicted, expressing frustration.
He wrote about how he picked on her, not because he wanted to, but because he didn’t know how to get close to her.
There was a passage about how much he hated when she smiled at Aegon or laughed at his jokes.
And then there was the entry about the night Aegon kissed her during a game of spin the bottle.
Y.N. paused, looking up at Aemond. “I totally forgot about that,” she said, her tone light and a little embarrassed.
Aemond smiled slightly, encouraging her to continue. “Keep reading.”
The later entries were more sporadic, reflecting their time apart as they grew older. Aemond lamented about feeling like a coward for not telling her how he truly felt.
He wrote about the attention he received from other girls, but how none of it mattered because none of them were her. And then came the entry that talked about her leaving for art college.
His pain was palpable as he wrote about not knowing when—or if—he would ever see her again.
Finally, she reached the last entry. It was short, simple, and yet devastatingly sincere: No matter what happens, my heart will always belong to her.
Y.N. closed the notebook, her hands trembling slightly as she handed it back to him. Tears welled in her eyes and slowly began to fall, the weight of his feelings over the years crashing over her.
Aemond took the notebook from her but didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. The rawness of the moment, the vulnerability he had just laid bare before her, spoke volumes.
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After enjoying the spread of food laid out for their picnic, Aemond and Y.N. packed up, the soft glow of lanterns fading behind them as they walked hand-in-hand back to the car.
The air between them was filled with a sense of calm and a quiet closeness that neither wanted to break.
As they got in the car, Y.N. smiled. "Where are we off to now?" she asked playfully, watching him from the passenger seat.
Aemond gave her a knowing smile but said nothing, only shaking his head as he started the engine. The hum of the car and the soft tunes from the radio filled the silence as they drove off into the night.
It wasn’t long before they pulled up in front of a familiar building—The Dragon’s Den, the very place where their story had taken a significant turn all those months ago.
Y.N. furrowed her brows, glancing at Aemond. “I think it’s closed,” she said, a slight chuckle in her voice.
Aemond smirked and pulled out a set of keys from his pocket, jingling them with a grin. “Not for us,” he said.
She raised an eyebrow in surprise as he unlocked the door and gestured for her to step inside. The space was eerily quiet, devoid of the usual bustling crowd and vibrant atmosphere that she remembered from that fateful night.
After locking the door behind them, Aemond led her towards the dance floor.
“How did you get the keys?” she asked, her voice filled with curiosity.
Aemond gave her a sly look. “I know the owner,” he said with a casual shrug, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
He left her standing in the middle of the dance floor for a moment as he made his way toward the sound system. Y.N. watched him, her heart beating a little faster with each passing second.
Then, the melody of the song they had danced to on that unforgettable night filled the club, the music wrapping around them like a warm embrace.
Y.N. giggled softly as Aemond returned, removing his jacket and tossing it to the side. “Care to dance?” he asked, his voice low and inviting.
She slipped her arms around his shoulders, pressing her body against his as they began to sway to the music, just like they had that first night.
As they moved together, Aemond's eye never left hers.
“Do you ever think about that night?” he asked, his voice soft, almost a whisper against the backdrop of the music. “About how much our lives have changed since?”
Y.N. nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “All the time,” she admitted. “I almost didn’t come out that night. Helaena had to convince me.”
Aemond’s hand tightened slightly around her waist, his lips curving into a tender smile. “I’m glad she did,” he murmured, pulling her just a little closer.
They continued to dance, their bodies swaying in time with the rhythm, a comfortable silence settling between them.
Aemond’s hand came up to cup her face, his thumb gently brushing across her cheek as he leaned down, his lips a breath away from hers.
“I love you so much,” he whispered, the raw emotion behind his words evident in his voice.
Y.N. smiled, her heart swelling with affection. “I love you too,” she whispered back before closing the small distance between them, their lips meeting in a passionate, lingering kiss.
As the music played on, they melted into each other, their bodies still moving in sync with the slow, sweet melody. Everything else seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in that quiet, intimate moment.
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Aemond took a small step back from Y.N., his chest rising and falling heavily as he gathered his thoughts. His eye, filled with raw emotion, searched hers, and he exhaled deeply.
"I know that I’m a complete idiot," he began, his voice thick with regret. "And I’m so sorry for what happened. Please believe me when I say I will never hurt you again."
Y.N. looked at him, her heart pounding, as she listened closely. Aemond continued, his voice steady but laced with emotion, "You and Jack mean everything to me. I swear I will spend the rest of my life making sure you both know that—every single day."
Without breaking eye contact, Aemond gently took her hand in his. His fingers trembled slightly as he reached into his trouser pocket, pulling out a small, velvet box.
The movement was careful, nervous, but determined. Y.N.’s breath caught in her throat as she realized what was happening.
Aemond, never taking his eye off her, slowly descended onto one knee, his heart racing in sync with hers.
"Y.N.," he said softly, opening the box to reveal a beautiful, glimmering ring nestled inside. "Will you marry me?"
For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing and the gentle hum of the soft music still playing in the background.
Then, Y.N.'s lips parted into a radiant smile, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Yes," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Yes, I will marry you."
A wide, joyous grin broke out across Aemond’s face. With trembling hands, he slid the ring onto her finger, and once it was in place, he stood up, pulling her into his arms.
In one swift motion, he lifted her off her feet, spinning her around in circles as they both laughed, the sound of their joy echoing through the empty club.
When he finally lowered her back to the ground, they were both breathless, their laughter fading into quiet, intimate smiles. Aemond cupped her face, brushing his lips gently against hers in a sweet, lingering kiss.
"Mrs. Targaryen" he whispered softly against her lips, his forehead resting against hers.
Y.N. giggled, her heart bursting with happiness, and she kissed him again, her fingers gently running through his hair.
In that moment, with Aemond’s arms wrapped tightly around her and their love stronger than ever, they had found their way back to each other.
And this time, it was forever.
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Aemond and Y.N. arrived back at his penthouse, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement after their evening together.
As they stepped inside, Aemond closed the door behind them, and his eye flicked to Y.N., a smile playing on his lips.
“Well,” Aemond began with a teasing tone, glancing around the familiar surroundings, “since you no longer live at your old apartment, we can’t replicate that night exactly. But this will do.”
His smile grew wider as he shrugged off his coat and moved to the drinks cabinet.
Y.N. chuckled, slipping off her heels as she watched him. Her eyes sparkled with a playful glint, the night’s events still coursing through her, making her feel bold.
She leaned against the wall; arms crossed loosely as Aemond rummaged through the cabinet.
He turned around, bottle in hand, raising a brow. "What would you like to drink?" he asked, though his grin hinted that he already knew what her answer might be.
Y.N. smirked and echoed the words that he’d said to her that fateful night, her voice soft but filled with playful intent.
“We both know I didn’t come here for a drink.”
Aemond’s eye darkened with the same intensity she remembered from that night. He set the bottle down without hesitation, crossing the room to her in long, purposeful strides.
His hands reached for her, fingers gently gripping her waist as he pulled her against him.
“Is that so?” he whispered, his breath warm against her lips, his face mere inches from hers.
Wasting no time, Aemond pressed his lips to hers in a deep, hungry kiss. Y.N. melted into him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as their kiss deepened, fiery and intense.
In that instant, everything else faded away. The penthouse, the memories, the past—they all vanished, leaving only the present moment.
Aemond kissed her like she was the only thing that mattered.
Then Y.N slipped her fingers under the strap of his eyepatch and pulled it from his head.
She stood silent she stared at the scar the bisected his cheek.
The sapphire glinting in the low light.
“You are still so-beautiful” whispered Y.N as she leaned forward and placed a number of kisses along his scarred cheek and over the sapphire.
Aemond closed his eye in delight at the tender gesture, a contented sigh escaping his lips.
“Hmmm” rasped Aemond as he ran his thumb over Y.N’s bottom lip, his eye going wide as she opened her mouth and nipped at his thumb before sucking it into her mouth.
“Please-“ moaned Y.N
"I’ve waited too long for this, Y.N."
She smiled up at him, her heart racing. "Then don’t make me wait any longer."
Aemond growled as he took her hand and pulled her to the bedroom, he all but kicked the door open.
He turned to face her, and he put his arms around her waist and kissed her passionately, deepening the kiss as she moaned into his mouth. His tongue pushing against hers.
Y.N ran her fingers across his lithe body. His muscles rippling under her fingertips.
She finished unbuttoning the shirt he wore, placing feathery kisses on his sparsely haired chest as the shirt was removed.
Her fingers toying with the silver cross chain he still wore.
Groaning against her creamy smooth skin, he kissed her neck, sucking on the delicate flesh as she leaned into him, enjoying his every touch.
Her dress felt heavy on her. She wanted to be rid of it. She wanted to feel his skin on hers. She reluctantly broke free of his embrace and turned her back to him moving her hair out of the way.
His fingers trembled as he grasped the zip to her dress and pulled it the rest of the way down, the sound echoed through the quiet penthouse, and he pressed his lips to the back of her neck.
Using his long fingers, he freed her from the confinements of her dress, and it fell to join his shirt on the floor.
She wasn’t wearing a bra, which excited him.
Goosebumps appeared where his fingers moved over her. Cupping her ample breasts from behind, Aemond pulled Y.N against his chest.
Burying himself in the crook of her neck, sucking on the skin whilst his fingers massaged the soft mounds and played with her hardened r nipples.
Aemond turned her to face him. Kissing her again, he trailed kisses down her body and took a rosy nipple in his mouth.
Sucking on the bud, he bit down lightly, earning a low moan from deep within her.
He continued his actions on the other breast and kissed past her stomach until he knelt before her.
Her fingers in his hair tightened as he ran the tips of his fingers from her stomach down to her core.
Slowly he grasped the lace of her knickers and ripped them from her, pressing the ruined material to his nose and inhaling her scent before standing up.
Y.N reached forward to undo the buttons on his trousers, then she directed him backwards towards the bed.
Her fingers stroked his body, not missing an inch of flesh, admiring the way his muscles twitched under her touch.
Biting down on her lip, she knelt between his legs, and pulled his trousers and boxers down his shapely legs and threw them to the floor.
Aemond reached forward and pulled her onto the bed.
He manoeuvred her onto her back and covered her body with his as he sucked and licked at the delicate skin of her neck, leaving red marks in his wake.
Y.N moved her head to the side and moaned loudly as she felt Aemond’s teeth nipping at her skin.
Ooo A-Aemond” exclaimed Y.N as he moved down her body, nibbling her at her skin as he went.
“Still such a pretty pussy " breathed Aemond, spitting on her pussy before he ran the flat of his tongue up her soaked slit, from bottom to the top, tasting her.
“Oh, my god” moaned Y.N her eyes rolling into the back of her head.
“That’s it my darling. Let me hear you”. 
“YES! It feels so good. Don’t stop. Aemond. Please” begged Y.N.
"Delicious" purred Aemond as he began lapping at Y.N, running his tongue along every fold.
"More" panted Y.N. "Please. I need more”.
Aemond inserted two fingers, sliding them in and out of her slick wet folds.
“Oh, fuck" whimpered Y.N; her chest heaving.
 Aemond’s fingers were soaking wet as they continued to pump in and out of her tight heat.
“I can’t wait to get my cock inside you. I don’t want to wait any longer, come for me baby,” moaned Aemond, his face pressed between her shaking thighs.
Y.N arched  her back and screamed as her climax washed over her.
Aemond moved his fingers slowly and lapped at her centre as she squirted all over his face.
“P-Please A-Aemond. Need you” begged Y.N.
Aemond rose to his knees, his chin shining with her slick, he smirked as he swiped his fingers over his chin and then placed them in his mouth.
Aemond moved up Y.N’s body pausing to grasp hold of her left breast as he ran his tongue over the rosy nipple, his teeth grazing the stiffened peak.
“Oh-yes“ gasped Y.N, as he moved to the other breast and lavished it with the same attention.
Aemond then grabbed her around the waist and manoeuvred her body on top of his.
“I want you to ride me-wife” exclaimed Aemond as he lined up his cock with her entrance and sheathed himself inside her with one hard thrust.
Y.N moaned as she rolled her hips against Aemonds, his cock moving in and out of her.
Faster and faster. Harder and deeper, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips.
"Please don't stop," cried out Y.N
"I have no intention of stopping" growled Aemond, his feet planted firmly on the bed to allow him to increase the intensity of his thrusts.
A satisfied smile spread across his face as he quickened and angled his movements, so his cock rubbed on that special place inside her.
Aemond seemed mesmerized by the sight of her breasts bouncing in front of him as he surged forward, his mouth wrapping around one rosy bud.
His teeth and tongue teasing the stiffened peak.
“Gods-yes Aemond” shrieked Y.N as she bounced on his cock, her hands coiled in is long silver hair.
“That’s it baby-take it-take all of me” growled Aemond leaning back as he moved Y.N’s hips in time with his thrusts.
“Oh gods-” wailed Y.N.
“That’s it-FUCK Y.N” groaned Aemond as he took hold of her and quickly manoeuvred her onto her back, his cock never leaving the warm wetness of her as he began to pound into her, the sounds of skin slapping on skin echoing around his bedroom.
“P-Please Aemond. Don’t stop. Don’t stop-“ whimpered Y.N.
“Come for me baby-come for me” growled Aemond as he felt her clenching around him.
“AEMOND” screamed Y.N as she exploded, her nails digging into his back.
Aemond held back for as long as he could, but his release was upon him.
With a final hard thrust, he spilled rope after rope of his seed inside her.
He muffled his groans into her mouth as she hung onto him, kissing him fervently.
She held him close to her body, whispering words of comfort and satisfaction while running her fingers down his back.
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Afterward, Y.N. and Aemond lay together, their bodies tangled in the soft sheets, a warm silence settling over them.
Aemond's hand traced lazy patterns on her skin as he leaned back, his silvery hair spilling over the pillow. He turned his head toward her, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“You’re still taking the pill, right?” he asked casually, though there was a hint of something more serious in his tone.
Y.N. giggled softly, her fingers brushing over his chest. “Yes, I am.” She noticed the subtle sigh of relief that left his lips, and her grin grew wider.
“As much as I want more children with you,” Aemond murmured, his voice deep and warm, “I’d like us to be married before the next one.” He smiled, his hand resting on her stomach as if imagining the future.
Y.N. raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised. “You want more children?”
Aemond nodded, his gaze softening as he looked at her. “Yes. You’re a fantastic mother, Y.N. I can’t wait to see you all round and swollen with my child again-just not yet.”
Y.N. chuckled, shaking her head gently. “I think I can agree with that.”
Aemond leaned over, reaching for his trousers where they were discarded on the floor.
He fished out his phone, quickly dialling a number. Y.N. listened in curiosity as the phone rang, and moments later, Aegon’s voice was loud enough for her to hear.
“Bring Jack to the penthouse-” said Aemond.
“So, did you ask her?” Aegon asked eagerly.
Aemond grinned. “I did. And she said yes.”
There was a loud cheer on the other end of the line, followed by Aegon’s voice exclaiming, “Ha! Daeron owes me money! Tight git best pay up.”
Aemond chuckled as he ended the call, tossing his phone onto the nightstand. Y.N. raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching in amusement.
“Do I even want to know what that was about?”
“Just my brothers being idiots,” Aemond replied with a grin, though his eye twinkled with amusement.
Y.N. laughed softly, teasing him. “Must be in the genes.”
Aemond feigned offense, rolling on top of her with a playful growl.
“Careful now.” He kissed her deeply, his lips warm against hers, his hand sliding up her side. He pulled back slightly, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “I wonder if we can manage another round before Aegon gets here with Jack”
Y.N. laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m fairly certain I can manage it, but the question is-can you?”
Aemond smirked, his lips brushing against hers as he replied. “I’ll show you exactly what I can manage.”
TBC
116 notes · View notes
i-hate-peas · 23 hours
Text
The Old Guard Fic Recs
So I've been a long time lurker within the fandom without ever getting particularly involved, but I wanted to show some appreciation for some of the super talented people who go here, because I have read a lot of incredible TOG fic.
Most (probably all) of these authors have loads of other amazing fics, but I've tried to just chose one from each, to keep the list a vaguely reasonable length. Although then I cheated and did some honourable mentions.
** just a note to say I started this list year (s) ago and forgot about it until literally today when I saw fic recs going round. Any of these fics I haven’t put a description for it’s because I didn’t do it at the time, and if I go back to reread them all this would never be posted, not through any lack of affection or enjoyment **
If any writers want tagging/ untagging etc please let me know! (i knew/ could find some blogs more easily than others lol)
Within Canon
Old Olives by aeli_kindara
Garden of Gethsemane mention = instant tears
Death in Her Hands by superblackmarket
Nile's growing relationship with Joe and Nicky. All of their fics are so beautifully written, but I especially love Nile's relationship with the boys and her facing her own immortality.
Honourable mention: Station to Station
Between the Hour and the Age by hauntedjaeger (@hauntedfalcon)
Andy! Nile!
Ouroboros by CypressSunn (@cypresssunns)
Set after the film, literally just read it.
compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience by Jack_R
A pair of early days Joe Nicky fics that reminds me of 'my wife is a bitch and i love her so much'
let's give them something to talk about by lacecat
When The Cherries White With Blossoms, Be Ready & Be Brave by chapstickaddict
Unearthed by merle_p
I think this is one of the most kudosed fics in the AO3 tag, but it deserves the hype!
Kidnapping for Dummies by Amiril
Similar to above, already very popular, but great and very funny!
The Last Man on Earth by Survivah (@optimismology)
I will admit I don't normally go for Booker/Nile, but this fic sold it to me. Looking at them and their developing relationship as the newer immortals.
Canon Divergent
Retrograde by Pinkninja
I mean this fic is the Big Bitch of the fandom for me, if you haven't already read this, where have you been? But also if you haven't already read this I am so jealous, read it and take your time with it and bawl your eyes out over it and appreciate the joy of reading it for the first time. The level of detail and planning in this fic is indescribable. It follows Nicky trapped in a Time Travellers Wife style life where he jumps back and forth throughout his own timeline, whilst Joe lives his life in chronological order. Exquisitely written.
If Never Again, If Every Day by gallifreyburning and takiki16 (@gallifreyburning, @takiki16)
Another absolute Titan of the genre. I know you’ve already been recommended this 500 times, what more can I say.
though I'm dying to (fall in love with you) by yusufsmoon (@babygirlyusuf)
Travellers from an Antique Land by kaydeefalls (@kaydeefalls)
Andy, not Quỳnh, trapped under the sea. I love all their fics.
AUs
Makes Me Want You More by Sixthlight (@sixth-light)
Perhaps not the typical favourite choice from Sixthlight, one of my absolute favourite TOG authors, but one that is funny and lovely and sweet that I keep coming back to. Shorter than many of theirs but perfectly formed.
pumpkin gnocci verse (series) by Liadan14 (@bewires)
I mean it's got estranged family, suspenseful chronological structure, cooking, spies, intimate and honest sex scenes, hilarious misunderstandings involving keeping halal, lovely found family moments, and the actual recipes used. What more do you want.
The Reality of Everything by Marbletopempire
One of the fics I desperately waited for each instalment for. Very funny, lots of sexual tension, plenty of Cate Blanchette spotting opportunities.
sine qua non by mellyflori (@werebearbearbar)
One of the first of their fics I read, with a very sweet build up of misunderstanding to friends to lovers, involving growing up, discovering sexuality, trying to be nice about your best friend's bad boyfriend, and a long suffering sofa.
The Brooklyn Verse (series) by GayLittleEarring, yusufsmoon, nicelytousled (@marwankenzarisgaylittleearring @babygirlyusuf @nicelytousled)
I saw the creation of this on Tumblr before it was a fic, and it lived up to every expectation. Very sweet and sincere, with lots of great discussions about art, whilst also very funny (Lamp the free loader, Joe sending thirst traps out of irritation) and hot. ItalianAmericanNickyfromBrooklyn and Joe my beloveds.
a good (eighth) impression by deaniker
I love a good hook-up to 'oh shit I have feelings' fic, and this is even more entertaining because Nicky is Lykon's ex, and Joe has very much seen him at his worst.
You do not have to be good by emjee (MerryHeart) (@emjee)
At one point a tumblr post about Joe the Professor and Nicky the Priest got very popular, and I'm not sure if this fic was inspired by that, but is one of the great fics with similar concepts. Such a lovely, gentle fic about love and also identity, featuring also Nile and a very sweet snail.
it's such an almighty sound (series) by raedear (@raedear)
A secret service AU that goes full enemies to lovers, with lots of tension, plotting, betrayal, frustration, and tenderness.
Honourable mention: take my hand (you got me rockin' and rollin')
fight 'til the day that i die 'verse by incurableromancer
Suspenseful, noir, super hero AU that has such a great writing style and is very atmospheric.
if you do take a thief by knoepfchen (@knoepfchen)
Cluedo style AU with lots of fun twists and slow building of backstories, with the whole gang.
Honourable mention: life is not the things that we do (it's who we're doing them with)
78 notes · View notes
sageispunk · 3 days
Note
are you ever gonna post the method man fics 😩
what's it gonna be? (18+)
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pairing: Silas P. Silas x black!reader
↳ When two friends finally get a night alone...
wordcount: 2.5k+
warnings: this is all smut fr, fwb to lovers, daddy kink!!!, P in V sex, reader is referred to as "girl" "ma" "mama" "boo", squirting, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, dom! reader for a sec, light choking, hint at/mention of weed use, dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), teasing, nipple play...lmk if i missed any!!
A/N: ask and you shall receive!! (sorry for the wait though, i've had this sitting unfinished for a min cause i didn't know if anyone actually wanted it LMAO) i hope u like it anon and anyone else, lmk how u feel in the comments!! pls like + reblog as well MWAH 🫶🏾
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“Damn girl…” 
Silas groaned below you, with his big hands gripping your hips as you moved up and down his length. The two of you locked desperate eyes, communicating nothing but everything at the same time.
You needed this as much as he did, especially once that familiar green haze behind your eyes set in. You were on your feet, using the strength in your legs and knees to increase your pace on him. With each bounce you could feel him deep inside your belly, touching parts of you that you didn’t even know existed. 
You also couldn't figure out how his tall self managed to squeeze into your twin XL dorm bed, but you weren’t in any position to question it either. The room was dark, only illuminated by the dim screen of your television on the dresser, in addition to the red LED lights on the wall above you. Whichever tv show began when your movie went off went unnoticed, their conversations drowned out by the breathy pants escaping your lips. 
The lewd sounds filling up the room had you both in heaven. Beautiful brown bodies under that rouge coloring– moaning, grunting, smacking, and squishing. Like one of those early 2000s classic Ebony films–just nasty. You could only hope no one could hear from outside your door. 
You moved your hips up and down, taking him all the way down to the base each time, biting your lip with a debauched look on your face. You watched as Silas moaned, loud and needy and uncaring, his eyes rolling back into his head. Your confidence shot up through the roof, leading you to take a little more control. You held his jaw with your dominant hand, bringing your lips up to his earlobe and letting your mouth run off whatever popped into your head, not leaving a second to second guess yourself. 
“Does it feel good when I do it like that?”
With your soft, teasing voice in his ears, you squeezed your inner walls, slowing yourself a bit and ignoring that growing burn in your thighs. “You betta stop it, girl..” His voice came out grunted, rough. His fingers dug into your hips as he struggled to hold onto his nut, a deep moan vibrating through his chest. 
“What about when I do it like that? Hmm?”
You felt him nodding against your skin before his hips stuttered, kissing your spot perfectly for only  a split second. Your body jerked up, momentarily frozen around him as your vision went white. “Silas, FUCK, I’m–!!!”
“Yeahhh, let it out baby..” He murmured, a goofy, cocky grin spreading across his face. Even then, you could still tell that he was struggling to hold on, with your pussy pulsing,  nearly suffocating him like a goddamn boa constrictor. 
Silas kept his eyes on you, his focus wandering up and down, and back and forth, his mind too overwhelmed with pleasure to fixate on only one part of you. He loved your thighs–every time you’d wear this particular pair of biker shorts that defined each of your curves, he would have to mentally go elsewhere just to keep from bursting out his jeans.
Your breasts also held a special place in his heart, especially in those times where he’d seek you out for comfort, resting against the soft, cushiony headrest that your chest provided. Similarly, the softness of your tummy was something he could never turn down, he’d be touching on it every time you showed a little extra skin in a crop top or a backless dress.
As you slowed down to a stop on top of him, he let his hands wander. His left hand traveled up your side, slowly, taking in your beautiful map of scars and stretch marks on the way. Once his thick fingers reached your breasts, they traced around your mocha areolas before latching onto your hardened nipples. Silas rubbed and pinched lightly, alternating between teasing each as he watched the euphoric haze grow across your face. 
“Silas…” You still were sensitive from your sudden orgasm, slightly trembling from the aftershocks as he touched you. Nevertheless, that warmth and excitement began to flood your core once again, that hunger taking over your every thought. His hard dick throbbing eight inches deep inside your core didn't help either. But you needed more, you craved to see him, feel him come undone inside of you. 
You gasped as his right hand made its way to your throat, keeping your gaze steadily on his. The grip of his fingers on your skin had you feeling weak, and under his spell. And his voice, all deep and rough and dripping with desire.
“I gotchu mama, just tell me what you need..” Your eyes scanned over his face, taking in the glaze of sweat on his forehead, above his furrowed eyebrows, as well as the slight pout in his plump bottom lip. You wanted to bite it so bad. “Tell daddy what you need, baby, I gotta hear you.”
Silas repeating the nickname you accidentally gave him the first time you’d hooked up made your tummy flutter. You couldn’t believe it yourself when the word flew out your mouth, while you blurredly watched him take you from behind, standing upright in front of the mirror in some frat party bathroom. From then he never let you forget it. He always made sure to remind you of his special status, without fail making you cum harder than anyone else ever had, every single time. 
“Cum in me, Si...please.” 
The plea fell from your lips as you lazily swirled your hips in his lap, enjoying the way his curved length rubbed deliciously against all your inner spots. Like you were made to fit one another. Your hands held onto his right arm as he continued to choke you, only slightly tightening his grip around your throat. The growing lack of air made you tense around his dick, whining and moaning out as he spoke. “You know if I cum in this pussy, that means it's mine, right?” 
Hearing those words with that thick New York accent while he was so deep in your belly nearly made you cum again. Leaning in, you nodded your response with your gaze fixed directly on his brown eyes.
A look of understanding flashed across Silas’ face for a second, before he released your throat, hand settling on the nape of your neck to bring you in closer. Your plush lips met his own as he swallowed down your moans, exploring your mouth with his hungry tongue.
You opened up, letting him take control of the nastiest kissing you’ve ever participated in–tongues dancing, spit swapping, lip sucking until both of your mouths were glistening. Sinful. 
Silas’ free hand squeezed your hip, grounding you on top of him as he began to slowly grind up into you. Your mouths separated but your faces remained close as he held the back of your neck. Silas watched your face contort while he deepened his stroke inside you, letting you feel every single inch in your stomach.
The only thing you could focus on was his mouth, and how much you wanted that bottom lip back in your mouth. Fuzziness took over your brain, your eyes tearing up from the agonizingly slow but deep pace he was set on. 
The moment was intimate, much more than it had been previously, closer and slower than all those other times Silas had you broken you down. For the past few weeks, you resorted to quickies on the bathroom counter if you were at a party, in either of your cars parked somewhere dark, you’d even let him finger you under the table in the library while you were supposed to be “studying”. And now, with your roommate gone for the weekend, you were finally able to have a nice, passionate moment in a bed. 
In a way, the rushed, adrenaline-filled aspect of all your previous entanglements in those less intimate settings kept you from taking a deeper look at your relationship with Silas. You were friends, albeit much, much closer than “normal” friends should be. You met in a shared biology lecture, after Silas showed up late–and high as hell–and the only seat left open was to your right. You eventually agreed to become study partners, and you didn’t mind when some of those late night study sessions in Silas’ dorm turned into heated smoke sessions, which further turned into nasty intoxicated confessions from you both. 
Silas propped his feet up, lifting his hips before flipping you both over. He placed his hands on the backs of your knees, pushing back and kneeling down to lick a slow, wide stripe up your glossy cunt. You cried out from the new stimulation, squirming in his grasp.
“You taste so mothafuckin’ good, girl..” He moaned against your pussy in appreciation, slurping up your juices and rhythmically sucking on your clit with those pretty ass lips of his. You were entranced, eyes stuck on the scene in front of you, wondering what good you had done in this world to deserve all the bliss flowing through your system.
You watched as he pulled back from your pussy, chin glistening in your essence. He spread your sticky lips apart with two big fingers, hungrily watching you clench and pulse around nothing. The ravenous look in his eyes as he stared at your pussy turned you on like no other. They met yours again, and he licked and bit on his lip, letting you know that he was craving more, just as you were.
Your eyes and mouth fell wide open when Silas let a string of warm spit fall directly onto your clit, both the sensation and the view filling you with an immense amount of pleasure. You could feel the electricity flowing from your pussy to your toes, and back up through your spine, a complete shock to your system.
He let your legs fall to the side, big, warm hands on your face as he leaned in, kissing you once more. The sounds of you both groaning into each other's mouths as you tasted yourself on his lips echoed throughout the room. Your hips grinded up against his, needing to feel his length on and in you again. He pulled away first, one of his hands coming down to pin your knee out to the side, setting you still in place. “You want me to cum in this pussy?” 
You nodded, almost too eagerly. There was nothing else on your mind but the vision of him leaking out of you, vanilla cream dripping down your lips, the perfect match for your coffee complexion.
“Use ya words, boo.” 
You reached up, manicured hands pulling his face to just a couple inches from your own. He watched, expectantly, eyes moving from your eyes to your lips and back up again. You could feel him now, twitching and leaking against your inner thigh, so close to where you needed him most. “Cum in your pussy, Daddy.” 
With a curse under his breath, he sheathed himself inside of you in a quick movement, pausing once he filled you to the base. His eyebrows were furrowed as he stared into your eyes, mouth hung open like he’d never felt the warm, tight hug of your cunt around him before. His breath faltered, warm breath against your lips and vulnerability written across his face.
Your own breath was caught in your chest when he slid back, and then forced out when he pushed inside, gliding through your slick walls with ease. A wail escaped your lips as he punished your pussy, or at least that’s what it felt like he was doing. Reminding you of who he was. And reminding you of who you were. 
Your eyes clamped shut, toes curling and spine arching up off the bed more and more each time he touched your precious g-spot. Another orgasm began to build within your core, your body tightening up underneath him as you fiercely dug your teeth into your bottom lip.
Curses flew from your lips, broken and jumbled together, barely making any sense. You released his face, blindly allowing your hands to find his shoulders for support. Silas leaned down, moaning and groaning in your ear, filling you up with his dick before taking it all away, over and over and over again. 
“Daddyyy…fuck!!!” 
“Tell me it’s mine, baby, c’mon ma, I’m so fuckin’ close…” 
Your bodies were sticky with sweat and all your juices, creating the nastiest smacking sound each time he plunged inside. “It’s yours, I swear to god, it’s all yours baby, ohmyfuckinggoddd…”  You rambled off, barely even able to hear your own words. Your brain was much more focused on the ecstacy spreading through your entire body, making you tingle from your head to your toes. “I’m gonna cum, daddy, please don’t stop!!” 
“Give it to me, baby, c’mon, gimme that shit!” He kept the pace strong, not letting up until you fell apart on his dick one final time, this time with your juices spraying and splashing between your bodies. Your tightness mixed with the sudden wetness of your squirt sent him over the edge, causing him to yell out as he finally released deep inside you. 
“Fuuuck!!” His hips twitched and stuttered as he emptied himself out, not daring to pull out while you were still grasping onto him from underneath.
You whimpered, your body trembling, shaking like a leaf as your nails dug into his shoulders, deep enough to leave a few red crescent-shaped marks. The feeling of his nut filling you gave you the warmest feeling in your tummy, satisfaction spreading through your mind, body, and soul.
The two of you rested for a moment, the sounds of your heavy breathing became your only focus. The audience laughter from the television was more noticeable now, but neither of you could care less. Silas let more of his weight fall on you, cradling you from above while you calmed down your breathing. You turned your face, tucking yourself into his neck and leaving a few soft kisses on the damp skin in appreciation. 
Silas softly chuckled when you teased him with your tongue against his collarbone, knowing you both were too tuckered out for another round just yet. He pulled out of you, slowly, hissing at the overstimulation on his sensitive length. Sitting back on his knees in between your legs, he watched in admiration as seed spilled from your swollen lips, giving him a perfect view of the most beautiful painting he’s ever laid his eyes on–better than anything he’s seen in the MET. 
Observing his mark on you–in you–was gratifying, a surge of endearment and devotion growing within his own core. “C’mere..” 
You obeyed, lazily allowing him to reposition you on top of his chest, your faces just centimeters apart. 
“Tell me somethin’ real quick...you meant it?” 
That vulnerable look was back, although he did try to hide it by avoiding eye contact, instead focusing on your slightly puffy lips, swollen from all the kissing and biting and sucking. You knew what he was talking about, and you knew it was more than just dirty sex talk–something had been growing between the two of you and it was undeniable at this point. 
“Every word.”
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i do not give permission for anyone to copy, translate, or repost any of my works. 18+ ONLY -- i am not responsible for the content you consume.
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b4ddprincess · 21 hours
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I hope that everyone who reads this feels a little bit of peace of mind. I know how unbearable it is to want to have the life of your dreams right now! That anxiety and despair won't help at all. Nor will continuing to do what doesn't resonate with you, seeing countless success stories and each time trying to do the same as them. It's always like that, right? That's what most of us do, it's like being in a loop, I say this because this year I became pure consciousness several times while trying to induce it, whether through lucid dreams, sleeping affirming, some of the times I just came out of the state of pure consciousness without affirming anything because I felt so peaceful (and it didn't last long either).
Exactly 4 days ago I almost to induce pure consciousness again while listening to this audio that leaves me super relaxed
https://youtu.be/DMQjwuU_4c4
(not that to induce pure consciousness you need something like that, just relax your body and take your focus off thoughts related to anxiety, just relax)
and I relaxed so deeply, I relaxed my body and mind while daydreaming but as soon as I started to feel the symptoms it was so intense, like falling, spinning and being sucked at the same time. and I focused so much on the symptoms that I ended up losing focus and consciousness returned to 3D.
but I remembered when I was a beginner in all this and I read a blog (if I find the link I'll put it here for you)
https://at.tumblr.com/princess200417/697183954837569536/h6gg9e7y98bg
in which the blogger said the following
"Sit down or lay down in the most comfortable position to you
Start breathing in and out slowly and imagine/picture a black space or a black hole or just a black image in general ,so this can help you in feeling closer to void (ofc it's not necessary)
Now start AFFIRMING I'm void or any other blanket void affirmation/affirmations of your personal preference"
She also said to make affirmations during the day, such as "Void is instant easy and simple ," "I am God," and I remembered that when I did this for the first time, I was a little sleepy. All I did was read this blogger's post again, lay down, and close my eyes. I didn't think about anything. All I did was affirm without forcing myself. The symptoms were so intense. However, I wasn't anxious or desperate.
So, I didn't care about the symptoms. I kept affirming. I remember that the way I induced pure consciousness was so fast. I just hadn't affirmed anything because there was nothing I wanted to manifest. Then I just affirmed that I was going to go out, and when I did, I realized that I was still asleep. Then I woke up. Some time later, I did it again and manifested that I was going to pass a very important test for me. And guess what? I passed all the tests.
And now remembering this I feel upset with myself, for having consumed too much and having let things get out of control and become a little difficult. Until a while ago I was telling myself that I would manifest my dream life, but I was always putting it off until tomorrow and it was always like that, 5 months went by while I was procrastinating. Now I realized how much time I wasted, and I feel upset with myself. But I remembered that I have already induced pure consciousness, what is getting in my way is despair and anxiety, but now I will control this and manifest my dream life, I will send you my success story very soon :)
I hope this is like a little warning to everyone who is on this journey, I know that everyone's circumstances may be as difficult as mine, but never give up. Try to stop this despair, focus on who you are. You are gods, the co-creator of your own reality, don't give up and don't put off until tomorrow what you can and have the power to do today!!!
congrats on inducing pure consciousness and passing your exams!! it may not be your dream life, but hey! you still have a testimony to share, and ik you'll share your dream life testimony soon!! 💗💗
just apply your reminders, and ik i'll see your next success story! don't stress urself either! 💞
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runabout-river · 3 days
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Thoughts on JJK chapter 270 (spoilers)
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Before I write my thoughts down, I have to confess that they've been tainted by a post I read I after reading the chapter. I decided to write the first part of my review as I had initially wanted to but the second part will discuss the things I read afterwards.
We start the chapter with a beautiful scene of a grave belonging to Tsumiki but my first thought was... what about Tsumiki's soul that had prevented Megumi from killing a girl?
If this is what Tsumiki's end and Megumi's final reaction to that would be, why did Gege bother including her soul as an active character into the story?
I also tried to find the raws to see what exactly was written on her grave. Only her surname? And was it also in English?
After that we get to Tengen and what happened to her and it was exactly here where my thoughts of this chapter went a big 🤨😵🧐🤬🤪
So Yuji just punched her out? And nothing more happened to her? The Culling Games are over? How did that happen? And through which remains would she stay stable? There was nothing left of Sukuna, at least nothing that had gone through Kenjaku's ritual. The only place she would be stable would still be inside Megumi. Her barriers are magically stable as well.
What a... neat ending to all those plot threads...
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Then we come to Maki finding her past helpers and telling them that all the reincarnated sorcerers would be separated from their hosts by Yuji soon and...
That's against established canon. We already had the discussion that the souls of the host's can't be saved because they've been pushed down to complete darkness. Choso couldn't feel the soul of his host anymore and that was how the narrative absolved him from any wrongdoing because now he didn't have to give his body back for ethical reasons and he hadn't made an unethical deal to be reincarnated either.
Only Megumi was said to have a chance of being saved and no one else.
So now I'm here and scretching my head thinking... was Gege so desperate or time constipated to end the manga that he threw that point out? Or is sth else going on here...
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We get Takaba back and he has a suspicious looking partner now, with whom he can do more comedy.
Now I don't think that's the real Kenjaku there. It's more likely that Takaba simply imposed that hairstyle on his new partner because he's missing his short time best friend.
For an actual Kenjaku comeback, he wouldn't have Geto's body anymore. Imo, Kenjaku did have spare bodies lying around he could've fled to at the last second though.
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We get more loose ends being tied up and for Higuruma it's clemency. This is another point in the "everything turns out perfectly good for the good guys" part we have been bombarded with in this chapter.
I'm like, Gege, isn't this too much? Wasn't JJK darker than this? Even Shoko gave up her smokes. The military plot is just "we'll deal with them" and there's no mention of JJ societal instability with the clans falling apart.
Either he really wanted to wrap every loose end up... or
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Gege forgets Megumi's scar on a pretty big panel and we get an anime love complication with one chapter remaining. It was funny though.
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Then we come to the end where we're set up to believe that life of the first year trio will go on as it should've been without those major Shibuya/Shinjuku complications.
Just going on missions and living life like that.
Now, one could accept that kind of ending (why isn't that in chapter 271 though?) But it comes off as so... lackluster and mended with fire after big chunks of the plot were cut off.
After I had finished the chapter, I was the most disappointed at everything that had to do with Tengen and the CG. So Gege sets up that the sorcerer life will continue afterwards. Even without wanting a Part 2, just ending the CG and Tengen's story like that is... unnecessarily boring and wasted space for nearly everything that came before that.
But then I read @thepersonperson post on how the last 3 chapters of JJK could possibly have been an induced dream sequence this whole time.
Induced by Yuji through his ability of creating fake memories right before defeat/death. His own DE is an application of this and Sukuna's strangely similar ability of talking with freshly deceased people in a dreamscape.
When Yuji had first expanded his domain, I went on such a ramble at the time about these strange abilities of them both. What I said back then was that Yuji wasnt an active/aware participant of them but by now he had acquired Sukuna's CT and again a DE.
This could mean that his induced dream sequences could've evolved enough that he became aware of them instead of only pushing them into someone else. In other words:
Yuji is dreaming of his best happy ending.
And here truly experiences that but he can't tell until now that it's a dream. He might very well be lying on the ground now about to die.
The post I linked adds more details to this theory like inconsistent character placements and "mistakes" like Megumi's scar suddenly missing, which would be commonplace in a dream.
That last picture up there with the guy who's supposed to be cursed but it was actually his girlfriend who had her perception of reality altered as well as the name of this chapter, would be the final hints about the last few chapters having been another glitch in perception.
Now only one week is left then we'll get our final answers to JJK. If this dream theory is true, then Gege will establish himself as the biggest troll, either with a JJK 2 or with a tragic ending.
(And if this really comes true, then I don't think I'll manage to escape the spoilers)
But whatever might come and even though I'm meh about the end (as it's presented to us right now) I still love JJK and immensely enjoyed reading, watching and engaging with it 😄
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lukolabrainrot · 2 days
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Calm theory anon here again!! Lord knows I'm exhausted of this little girl but I wanted to touch on what all we have seen since Italy Birthday trip and Lukes recent like. 1. It was reported by someone who took a photo with Luke at the airport that he was alone. Meaning he flew back by himself. Rumor that he left two days before 2. We got radio silence from the group for a while. 3. Rory unfollowed sienna then it was reported on by the fan pages and then he followed her back. 4. Sienna unfollowed Jack Vine (this is the guy that Luke stays with when he didn't have a house) then it was reported on by the fan pages and she followed him back. The last couple days she's unfollowed him again. 5. Charmaine reposted on TikTok about NDA👀 6. Rory takes a trip with his mom. 7. Sienna likes a post of Hannah Dodd and Nicola from fashion week. 8. Sienna hasn't liked any type of photos of A since early August nor did she like that last Luke post. Now with all this information I'm sure we all can come up with some conclusions. I do think that Luke set up some type of NDA which in my opinion was necessary. We have to remember that Luke's management team is actually a very well-known and establish team this was told to me by people in the PR field. He doesn't have newbies. Now I'm sure that pissed a lot of his friends off. It made them keep quiet about things that they might not have wanted to be quiet about. We clearly see something going on. Now Luke liking A stuff. it was 10 1/2 hours after she posted on her grid with a story posted after four hours of the photos being live. Now the posting to her stories of the grid picture is a new thing. That didn't start till after Italy. What does that tell me? She knows that his notifications for her has been probably turned off. So in order for him to see her photos, she would have to post it in her story which he most likely watches those. This particular photo wasn't liked until after Nicola posted at the concert. I don't believe in coincidences. He got a notification that Nicole posted. Then he went online afterwards watching Nicola story. Now who to say it's not part of his NDA that he has with her that. But as I was thinking about all of this today, one of the interviews that Nic and Luke came to mind. When they were discussing red flags. And one of the questions was keeping up with an ex. Nic said something like I feel that how you speak of your ex says a lot about you or something like that. Remember, Luke listens to every single thing that Nikola has said. She's the one person in this world that he remembers how they met down to the chairs they had sat on. So he would remember stuff like this. So it could be an NDA thing or it could be him trying to be civil with his ex. Regardless of the like which does not tell you anything. The only thing that tells me is she is desperate for that like. She has to put it in her story so that he will see it, she wants that like so bad that she's doing something she never had to do before. Why does she want the like so bad? Because she can control the fandom. Every time Luke likes this girls picture people spiral. it's like on a photo. He's not commenting on it. He's not giving her heart eyes. He's not sharing it to his stories. He liked the picture. We don't know the reason why and we will never know. All I'm saying there is a lot going on BTS that's clearly evident by how they're all moving. We just gotta wait for Nicola to speak more. Remember, her voice should always outshine this girl's voice. Nicola has given us all hints that something more is happening. Let's trust her please
As always, love your thoughts and theories!
Here are some additional theories/thoughts I have about the SM events from today. Disclaimer: These are just my thoughts and interpretations based on all the publicly available information I have seen recently. So please do not take this as 100% fact!
N didn't post her Chappell Roan story until almost midnight her time
L THEN preceded to like A's post approximately 30 minutes after N's CR story- which at that point was technically the day AFTER A made her post
So my little delulu theory is that N went home to L after the concert with her besties, they cuddled up and caught up, N posted her story, this made L log on to IG and prompted him to do his obligatory like of miss A's post after seeing A's story
Some additional notes/thoughts:
Even if N DIDN'T go home to L, all of the available information Calm Theory Anon and I have laid out here tells me this. L DOES NOT HAVE NOTIFICATIONS ON FOR A AND IS NOT PAYING ATTENTION TO WHAT SHE IS POSTING. L IS DOING THIS WITH N THOUGH.
He also liked A's post within a really short time of N's CR story. Now, the only thing this definitively says is that L/N were on their IG accounts around the same period of time. But this was around 12:30 AM their time. It was pretty late at night, and like it's just an interestingggg coincidence if L/N were separate and just both getting on SM around the same time at that time at night. We also know N tends to go on SM when she is getting ready for bed (N has said this). And she posted the CR story around the time she most likely was getting home from the concert. I think there are just a lot of signs/clues pointing that L/N were together around midnight their time. And L was NOT at the CR concert, so that means she would have met up with L AFTER the concert. And if she was meeting L after the concert at that time at night, they were probably with each other the rest of the night. So this is what leads me to believe that N went home to L OR L got the notification for N's story and got on SM and saw A's story. The timing of it all is just very interestingggg to me 🤔
Lastly, A had to essentially BEG L for this like. Why does L still have to like her posts? I have no definitive answer. My thoughts are it's some sort of contractual agreement. Regardless, these likes have no direct indication of L/A's relationship BTS. If I look at the full picture of EVERYTHING, all the signs indicate that L/N are spending more time together (or just since August decided to start publicly hinting to the fandom that they are spending a lot of time together). And all the signs point to L/A not being on good terms, and that there was some sort of rupture in L's friend group around the Italy bday trip.
These are just my thoughts though. What does everyone else think?
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wittlesissyb4by · 3 days
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Sweetie Todd
Men are soo desperate. It’s honestly a bit too easy. Do you know how many virgin losers I have at my disposal? They will do anything they can, just for a picture of my tits, anything for a bit of female attention. Take this little fairy for example. He dm’d me on Insta only a few weeks back.
‘Hey I like your pics.’ He said, ‘any way I can see you with the clothes off? 😏’
In the past, I would kick these pervs to the curb. Block, ignore, sometimes even report. But some were so desperate they actually offered to pay me. Just for a pic of my nips or even my feet. At first I declined, but times are tough, and a girl’s gotta eat, right?
So I let them. I’d let them cashapp me in exchange for a pic or two. It felt kind of dirty, but I told myself girls will do much worse for much less.
But they kept asking for more, instead of appeasing them, they kept asking for more. The money came in, sure, but I would quickly run out of content if I indulged them with every transaction. There's only so many ways to take a tit pic, and I refuse to subject myself to much more than that.
I quickly learned that if I strung them along, they would become even more desperate. One guy started to annoy me, becoming particularly pushy, so I told him to go fuck himself. Tell me why he literally sent me a video of him shoving a dildo up his ass less than 24 hours later?! It was gross, but that got me thinking...
If he was willing to do that just to see a pic of me, what else could I make these desperate little dorks do?
I told a guy to eat cat food, told another to fuck the crease of the couch cushions, even suggested to another that he stick his head in doo doo he found at the dog park.
They all did it. Every. Single. One. And they even paid me for the privilege!!
When I posted a video of a guy slamming a baseball bat between his legs and thanking me with every bash of his balls, the messages really started flooding in.
Men everywhere were begging to be dominated and, I'm not gonna lie, I kinda liked it. The attention was nice, my followers grew exponentially, and the money was pouring in. I didn't even have to show my tits anymore, just had to tell them to shove a tampon up their ass and keep it in for the rest of the day.
Virgin after pathetic virgin started subbing.
Eventually, my little 'tasks' for them became more and more devious. Buying and wearing a pair of panties was too easy. I wanted the full ensemble, and I wanted them to walk through their favorite sports bar with it on.
Some checked out at that point, but others, the most dedicated and desperate, stayed.
Then, I found it. One sub was being particularly whiney, so I suggested he go buy a pack of Depends diapers for being such a baby. He did, and it was the most hilarious thing I've ever seen. A grown man wearing nothing but a diaper and sucking on his thumb is truly a sight to see! Even better when you make them squat down and shit themselves. Even the most dedicated were absolutely broken at that point. It reduces them to nothing. I've taken control of everything at that point, all the way down to when and wear they use the bathroom. Yes, they now have to beg me (pay me) to poop their pampers. They have to pay extra if they want to cum, and they don't get to change their filthy diaper before they do.
This picture you see is of Todd. He's an investment banker. Todd originally messaged me for pictures of my feet and maybe a little domination here or there, I don't really remember. At this point, I don't really care. He got put through the ringer just like the rest of them. I do specifically remember him throwing a fit when he first had to wear the diaper. Or 'nappy', as he calls it, because apparently that's how they say it in Britain where he's from.
He told me 'no' at first. Said he'd never do it. That he was 'too much of a man' for that.
"Okay." was all I said, and left it at that.
Two weeks later, he'd sent me a pic of the nappies he bought. That's another thing I've learned too: when you push a guy's limits, he may resist at first, but eventually the horny/submissive brain always wins. They will do anything to please. Anything for a little attention.
But Todd didn't get to just wear diapers, no no. His dumbass tried to tell me he's 'too much of a man'. So now he gets to wear nothing but frilly dresses when he's at home. I randomly send check-ins to ensure he's doing as he's told. If not, he's punished. It's easy to get them to do what I want, because every day I just accrue more and more pictures/videos to blackmail them with if they refuse.
Todd got to suck his first dick the other day at some random truck stop! He swears up and down that he's not gay--and I actually believe him--but I also don't care. It's way too entertaining to see diaper dorks suck a dick for baby batter and thank me for it while they gargle it in their mouth.
One of my subs also let me in on a little thing called a 'chastity device', so guess what Todd will be putting on and sending me the key to? I'm sure he'll earn it back at some point. Three, maybe six months from now, I'll mail it back to him. If he's a good baby gurl, that is...
~~~~~~~~
Image Source: frilledpansy on imagefap
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xazse · 10 hours
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hiii pookie I LOVED your hybrid post like it got me foaming from the mouth ngl 🫶 you're so talented!!
If you're into it, can we get cowhybrid! reader and Farmer!Gojo specifically please and thank you? I need to see the reader all needy and desperate and Gojo being the only one who can truly give her release and and what she truly needs (feel free to remix or add anyone/anything that you please)
If you're not into it, please ignore this ask instead of refusing because I get embarrassed hihi🎀🫶 anyways mwah mwah love u take care pookie
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ANOTHER TRY?
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Notes: THANK YOU FOR THE COMPLIMENTS IM GLAD YOU ENJOYED MY WORK!!! and to the second ask I’m very happy you requested that bull!hybrid work lLOVEDDD WORKING ON IT!! You guys are so creative I need to eat ur brain!!! THIS IS FOR ALL THE OTHER PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEEN ASKING FOR A PT2 I SEE YOU GUYS!!! (IF UR READING THIS TO MY OTHER INBOX OFC YOU CAN BE 🪬 ANON!!)
Pairings: CowHybrid!Reader x Farmer!Gojo
Warnings: Lactation + big!boobedReader + implied chubby!reader + nipplesucking + grinding + mean!Satoru + pussy!slapping + teasing.
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Gojo has spoiled you for far too long it makes his blood boil and temples wrinkle when you continue to go see Toji and Suguru, it becomes a habit for you to come back in the early mornings after having a night of “fun.”
Confronting said men proved to be so fucking useless, they just laughed in his face when he said he’d kick both of them to the curb should they continue to corrupt you.
“You need us Satoru, why are you allowed to have your nightly routines but she cant? It was gonna happen eventually.” Tojis face was decorated with a fat sneer, all those times he tried to make sure you stayed as far as possible were all for naught, it’s hilarious seeing him seething behind a cool facade.
“Never knew what Toji seen in the woman but now I completely understand his point.” Suguru yelled from where he was transporting some wood.
Talking to them proved to be useless, as a little payback he made them clean the shed from top to bottom.
Trudging back to the main house in his thick boots Satoru comes to face you relaxing on the couch without a damn care in the world.
Why is he trying to get them to be on his level when he should be punishing you, you’re the one who didn’t listen, you’re the one sneaking out every night. He doesn’t know why he feels this hold on you, you’re such a beautiful girl that he can’t help but keep you in this small bubble.
When your eyes land on him you don’t say any kind of greeting, simply ignoring his presence for the movie on the huge ass tv he bought for you and eating the expensive food he bought for you.
You look extremely good right now, your fat boobs not swollen, but your pretty lips are. Satoru won’t say it but his pants tighten at the thought of what they do to you.
He needs you right now, he’ll make it up to you as much as he can.
He approaches you calmly and collected, sitting down at the edge of the couch where your legs are propped up, you still don’t acknowledge him. His trained hands start circling on your soft supple skin, you surprisingly don’t push him away. You give Satoru an inch he’ll take a mile.
He starts groping your thighs, the pudgy things hold within the creases of his hand. He pushes your thighs apart and gets a good look at your panties: you always choose to walk around the house like this.
They’re extra tight the way they emphasize your fat pussy, the groan that slips from his lips aren’t-something he tries to hold back, he needs you to know how much he wants you, especially wants you all to himself.
The rise and fall of your chest makes you look so cute, why are you so shy all of a sudden? You’re averting your eyes as well.
Satoru starts teasing your clothed folds, dragging his thick finger up and down, he pushes extra hard on your clit eliciting a small moan from you. He continues this for a little, he needs you wet to take him properly.
He peels off your soddened panties and positions himself above you, finally face to face with you. Your boobs are the first thing he attacks, pulling on your shirt and letting them spill out, the little droplets of milk call to him. He’s grabbing one and putting it into his mouth: he loves your taste so sweet like honey as it cascades down his throat so smoothly.
“Nghm… Toru..” finally you’ve decided to grace him with your sultry voice.
He bites down a little on your nipple making you jump away. He reels you right back in and sucks even harsher, there’s barely any milk left but he’s going to make sure he gets his full.
“Toru.” You call his name so panicked and yet you’re grinding against his fully hard cock. He’s so desperate in the moment that he unbuckles his belt and lets his cock bob free.
His fat tip prods agaisnt your folds, messing with your sticky wetness, he smears it on his tip even grinding down on your clit, but he doesn’t put it in, you don’t deserve that.
He teases you, pretending he’s going to give you what you want just to take it all away.
“Please…” a harsh and loud smack is delivered straight to your clit, you yelp and buckle your legs closed.
“Shirt, take your shirt off.” He commands, of course you’re gonna listen, Satoru has never taken that tone with you.
Your boobs now freely spill for him to gaze at. He spreads your legs back open.
“I’m gonna give you ten slaps, close your legs for even one I’m restarting. Understood?” You nod and your ears move along with it. He likes this look on your face: confusion, arousal and a little bit of fear.
On the first slap you make the mistake of shutting your legs closed: completely an accident but he’s having none of it, he hits your little clit again and again.
“Ahn..” you’re still so fucking wet by the sixth slap, creating a nasty mess that drips to your ass. Gojo’s cock is still throbbing, he jerks himself off, smearing his pre all over.
By the tenth slap you’re gone, completely dazed and only able to whine outloud, he decides that you’ve had enough with the tears that sit on your eye line. He pushes your legs back and lines his weeping tip. The feeling of sliding into your sopping wet cunt is better than any pussy he’s ever had.
His strokes against you are fast even though he should be letting you adjust, the sounds of skin against skin meeting each other is downright lewd.
He tells you to rub your nipples, it adds so much more stimulation that you can’t find it in you to hate it.
His cock drags agaisnt your walls over and over, till you can’t feel anything but the sensitivity of your nipples and the twitching of his fat cock.
He fucks you like that all night, even when you’re meant to meet Toji and Suguru, you can’t stop creaming around farmer Gojos length and nor do you want to.
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milfhunter6698 · 2 days
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Under pressure pt5
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synopsis: Upon joining the NYC firm as a new associate, you quickly find yourself facing the pressure of working under the firm’s star senior partner, Victoria neuman. With a reputation for excellence and an eye for potential, she was searching for a junior partner who can meet her exacting standards. You, with your impressive credentials and unwavering ambition, seemed like a perfect fit…until the pressure of meeting those high expectations started taking their toll. 
Warnings: 18+ eventual smut, no use of (y/n), cursing, no describing reader’s appearance, explicit language, fluff, angst, teasing, hurt & comfort, power imbalance, slight AU, some similarities to cannon, mentions of the boys characters (Hughie), slight age gap, rival associates, young!reader, older!Victoria, slow-burn, infidelity.
Notes: It’s sunday ayyy new chapter. I’m posting this right now because I won’t have any time to do so later today sooo i just wanna say, I’ve mentioned before that Vicky isn’t a supe in this, as much as you’d want to but unfortunately she isn’t so sorry boo! This is a sloww burn so ya’ll ain’t getting freaky that fast lol, but i promise it’s gonna be worth it. And oh my gosh? tysm for the follows and comments they make my day i love you all.
“I see your face every time I’m with somebody else. Can’t you see that I want you?” ♩Where you belong—The weeknd.
previous chapter
wc: 3.1k
You finally made it your apartment, exhaustion wore you down, your thoughts racing with that shared moment between you and Victoria, as you found your girlfriend waiting for you. Letting out a sigh, you sat your keys and bag on the kitchen counter. She sauntered over, a playful smirk on her lips.
“Hey, you're back. Missed you," she spoke, her voice soft as ever. Wrapping your arms around her neck, you returned her smirk with a wary one, mumbling, "work."
Her lips met yours for a soft kiss. That same horrible feeling washed over you as you realized the very same mouth that had been pressed against Victoria's just hours ago was now touching your girlfriend's. You broke the kiss abruptly, turning away in an attempt to hide the turmoil written across your face.
However, your girlfriend, oblivious to your inner conflict, pulled you close once more. This time, her kiss was deeper, more lingering, filled with an affection that only intensified your remorse. As your eyes met hers, it pained you because all you saw was nothing but love and trust, causing your breath to catch in your throat.
She leaned in for another kiss, gently biting your lower lip. Usually, this would excite you. But however this time, you felt a sudden wave of worry. Her kiss, which used to feel comforting and familiar, now reminded you of Victoria's from earlier. An unexpected shiver of anxiety rippled through your body making you feel uneasy and guilty.
Despite it all, you found yourself giving in to the moment. With trembling hands, you helped her remove your shirt, your fingers fumbling with the buttons as you stumbled backwards into the dimly lit bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. She guided you towards the bed with a determined grace, her eyes filled with hunger that both thrilled and terrified you. As your back hit the cool sheets, she crawled over you, her body a familiar weight that now felt strangely foreign.
Your breath hitched as her teeth left momentary bruises on your skin, and you hissed in warning, "Uh, careful."
She mumbled a quick apology, her lips brushing past your collarbone, neck placing kisses down your abdomen. Your heart raced, and you closed your eyes, her tongue traced a wet path, making contact with your aching clit. Your hands, shot down gripping into her hair.
You couldn't help but let your thoughts drift. Your mind wandered back to Victoria. The kiss, that night at the pool, and that look on her eyes, how badly she craved you. Desperately you tried to shake off the thoughts and focus on her touch instead. But Victoria’s name, continued to play on repeat in your mind, hard to ignore as it teetered on the edge of your tongue, threatening to spill out.
You bit your lip, suppressing a moan. Suddenly, you felt guilt and an unbearable longing mixed with a sense of righteousness. "Fuck Vic—, fuck," you mumbled, your voice a raw, hoarse whisper.
Your body froze. Holy shit... You weren't sure whether she'd heard you or not, though she persisted. "Oh god, stop! Just stop," you pleaded. She then did so, pulling away.
You propped yourself on your elbows, “Hey, I'm sorry. You're great, I just..." You sighed, licking your lips, sitting on the edge of the mattress, a heavy, uncomfortable silence lingered, and it only served to break your heart further.
Rising from the bed, you bent down to gather your underwear from the floor. Slipping it on, you met her eyes, noticing the hurt and disappointment lingering in them. You mumbled an excuse, before you left the room disappearing into the dark hallway.
You stood in the bathroom, splashing water on your face and looking into the mirror. You felt absolutely lost, the memories of Victoria still there, and the growing connection with her a shocking twist of fate creating an unsettling, conflicting feeling.
Confusion clouded your mind as you tried to process the complex emotions overwhelming you, torn between desire and guilt. You didn't want to hurt your girlfriend, but Victoria’s hold on you was so strong that It made it really difficult, the grasp she had on your heart was unrelenting.
The next morning, you entered the firm, your mind still racing from the events of the previous night, thinking about your girlfriend and the possibilities only added to the unease gnawing at you.
As you walk down the hallway, your thoughts kept drifting back to the kiss with Victoria. You’re frustrated with yourself for even allowing it to happen, but something about it keeps pulling at you. Lost in thought, you don’t notice her until she bumps into you.
You share an awkward moment, both frozen for a second too long, before quickly shifting away. She mumbles a polite apology, but there’s a flicker of something unspoken in her eyes. You nod, avoiding her gaze, but inside, your heart pounded.
Later, in the breakroom you stepped into the kitchen, grateful for a brief escape. You prepared a cup of coffee, hoping it will clear your head. Just as you took a sip, you sensed someone’s eyes on you. Glancing up to find Victoria staring you down, an amused smile playing at the corners of her lips.
Why is she everywhere? It feels like no matter where you go, she’s there. Every time you try to focus on your work, she reappears.
“Looks like someone had a fun night.” She spoke teasingly.
Her gaze drifts to the faint bruises on your neck, and you suddenly realize what she means. Your face flushes with heat as you instinctively rub at the marks, trying to cover them up. Embarrassed, you meet her eyes, which only makes her chuckle softly. Your tone was defensive but tried to play it cool, “It’s not what you think.”
She raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, and takes a step closer. For a moment, you wonder what she’s going to say next, but before she can speak, Hughie walks in, his presence cutting through the tension like a knife.
He was oblivious to whatever was going on between you, he then turned to address Victoria, “There you are. I’ve been looking for you all morning. We’ve got that meeting with the partners in five minutes.”
You feel a wave of relief wash over you for the first time in days. Hughie’s interruption was a welcome one. You were not ready to confront whatever’s going on between you and Victoria.
She lingers for a moment longer, her eyes flicking back to Hughie, before she turns and follows him out of the room. You were left alone in the kitchen, the lingering scent of coffee mingling with your own sense of confusion.
Your thoughts continued to race. You can’t shake the feeling that things are spiraling out of control. You’re torn between the growing attraction to Victoria and the relationship you’ve so desperately trying to salvage with your girlfriend.
You can’t let this get any messier but deep down, you knew it already had been. The more you tried to avoid Victoria, the more she seems to be everywhere, as if fate is pushing you together despite your best efforts.
Earlier that day, you sat at a small table in Central Park, the sounds of the city blending with the rustle of the trees. The late-morning sun filters through the leaves, casting a soft glow on the table. Across from you sits the client, a middle-aged woman corporate executive embroiled in a complex legal battle over intellectual property theft.
“I don’t know how it got to this point. One moment, I had everything under control, and the next, it feels like my world is falling apart.”
You listened carefully, nodding as she speaks. There’s something about her situation that resonates with you—being blindsided, trying to hold everything together while the ground shifts beneath your feet.
“You did everything right. But sometimes, no matter how careful we are, things go wrong. And when that happens, it’s about how we respond that defines us.”
She let out a heavy sigh, looking out at the park as if seeking answers in the distance. “It’s hard to trust anyone anymore. Especially when the people you thought were on your side turn against you.”
You leaned forward slightly, your voice calm but firm, “I get that. But you have to remember, not everyone’s out to get you. Sometimes, the ones who stand by you are the ones you least expect. And I promise you, I’m going to see this through.”
Her eyes softened with a flicker of relief, as if your words gave her something to hold onto. As you spent the next half-hour going over some details of the case, outlining the next steps and giving the client a sense of direction. It was time to wrap up, she stood from her seat and offered a hand.
“Thank you, I don’t know what I’d do without your help.”
“Of course, that’s what we’re here for.” You accepted her hand shaking it firmly, before gathering your things from the table and saying your goodbyes.
You returned home, the sound of the city fading behind as you step into your apartment. You tossed your keys on the counter, your body heavy with exhaustion. The bed felt too large, too cold. You lay down, staring at the ceiling, the silence in the room echoing louder than the chaos of the day.
Your mind drifts to everything—the two women in your life. You wondered if you’re even in control—or if everything is slipping through your fingers. The emotional weight pressing down heavy on you, like a suffocating blanket you cannot seem to pull off.
In the stillness of your room, your phone buzzed on the nightstand jolting you, shattering the silence. Instead of checking it, you let out a frustrated huff, closing your eyes tightly. Desperate to escape any further thoughts, you pulled a pillow over your head, and buried yourself in the comfort of your bed.
It had been another long, draining day, and all you wanted was to clear your mind. As you walked out of the office building, the city’s soft hum around you as the evening light dimmed.
Walking down the stairs, a familiar figure caught your eye, standing near the entrance of the building. You blinked, almost unsure if it was really her. A strange wave of relief washed over you. She hadn’t been around for a while, and maybe you could finally talk things out, fix things.
“Hey,” You called, striding over to her. You could sense something off in her posture, but you tried to push the thought aside. “I was wondering when you’d show up. It’s been a rough week—”
She interrupted, her voice quiet but firm. “Save it.” Your heart sank, the relief you felt moments ago turned into a knot in your stomach. You knew that tone, you knew what was coming. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?” you asked, trying to sound calm.
She sighed, glancing away at the cars passing by for a moment before meeting your gaze again. “No matter what we do… it just doesn’t work. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and I just… I don’t think this is working anymore.”
You blinked, her words hitting you like a wave. You’d been so consumed by your feelings for Victoria, your confusion, that you hadn’t even seen this coming. “Wait, we can talk about this. We can fix it—”
She shook her head, looking down at the pavement. “I don’t think we can. You’re different now. I’m different. And…” She hesitated before adding, “Is it someone at work? Is it that woman…. Victoria, that you’ve been working with?”
You froze, your throat tightening. How could she possibly know? The question lingered between you and although you wanted to say something, anything, but no words came. You couldn’t lie, but you weren’t ready to admit the truth either.
She took a step back, her eyes soft with resignation. “I thought so.” She gave a faint smile, one that held both sadness and understanding. “I hope you find what you’re looking for. But i guess that’s not me.”
With that, she turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, speechless, grappling with whether you continue denying your attraction to Victoria and the inevitable consequences of those feelings.
Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as a lump formed in your throat. Blinking rapidly, you tried to dispel the emotions threatening to spill over. Your hand came up to your face, rubbing your palm against your eyes to wipe away any signs of weakness.
Watching her walk away, it was over you knew there was no turning back time. Your relationship, once strong and full of promise, had faltered. To ask for another chance now would be nothing short of foolish.
You remained rooted to the spot, your chest aching, a persistent and uncomfortable sensation. A chaos of emotions consumed you, swirling like a tempest, leaving you unsure of what your next move would be.
You stood alone in the copy room, glaring at the stubborn printer that refused to cooperate, its flashing error signal mocking you. The silence in the room was punctuated only by the sounds of your deep, labored breaths.
You clicked the button again, hoping for a miracle. Nothing. A flash of irritation surged through you, building with every failure. You clenched your fists, muttering under your breath, “Come on..” then slammed your hand against the side of the machine. When it still didn’t work, your frustration reached its peak.
You struck the machine again—once, twice—trying to vent the anger bubbling inside. Your world felt like it was crumbling. The breakup with girlfriend, the constant pressure from work, and now this. You pounded the printer again, teeth clenched, but it only made things worse. “Fucking— stupid, Machine!”
Suddenly, the sound of the door opening cut through the tense moment, and you froze mid-swing.
Victoria.
She stood in the doorway, a stack of files in hand, her usual calm, controlled demeanor breaking for a moment as she took in the sight of you.
You dropped your hand and straightened up, embarrassed. Your eyes darted to the side, avoiding her gaze, but it was too late—she had already seen the cracks in your usually composed exterior.
“Are you… okay?” she asked softly, setting the files down on a nearby desk. There was a hesitation in her voice, a rare hint of concern that broke through her usual professionalism.
“I’m fine,” you muttered, trying to wave it off, but your voice lacked conviction.
She didn’t move. She simply stood there, studying you, the room filling with a heavy silence. You could feel her gaze on you, and for the first time in a while, you didn’t want to be under her scrutiny. You knew what she was seeing—the exhaustion, the frustration, the crumbling walls you’d so carefully built around yourself.
“You don’t seem fine,” she said gently, taking a few steps closer. “Something’s wrong.”
You sighed heavily, the weight of everything threatening to crush you. For a second, you considered brushing her off again, but the look in her eyes stopped you. There was a sincerity there that you weren’t used to from her. It wasn’t just curiosity or concern for how you were performing at work—it was something more.
“I just…” your voice cracked, and you looked away, feeling your throat tighten. “It’s been a rough week. I’m dealing with… a lot.”
She didn’t push any further, but she didn’t leave either. Her presence, usually sharp and commanding, was softer now. Patient.
You exhaled and ran a hand through your hair, finally giving in. “My girlfriend broke up with me.”
Her expression shifted slightly, a flicker of surprise and relief crossing her features for a brief instant before she quickly masked it. She took another step closer, standing directly in front of you now, her usual guarded demeanor softening.
“I’m sorry,” she said, and for once, the words didn’t feel like just a polite phrase. They felt genuine.
You glanced at her, your own feelings a mess, unsure what to make of her sympathy. But something about the way she stood there, unflinchingly close, gave you a strange sense of comfort.
She reached out, her hand brushing against your arm before pulling you into a tight hug. It was a small gesture, but it was enough to send a wave of warmth through you that caught you off guard.
Your body froze for a moment, then you quickly surrendered, burying your face into her neck. The tension in your shoulders began to melt away with each soft breath, your sigh a release of pent-up stress. Your arms awkwardly tangled with hers as you clung to her, her warmth a comforting feeling.
Once you pulled back your breath hitched, the space between you narrowing. She didn’t move away. If anything, she leaned in closer too, her hand sliding up to gently touch your cheek. The moment hung in the air, thick with tension. Your lips were mere inches apart, but just as she was about to close the gap, you blinked, breaking the spell.
She pulled back slightly, her heart racing, she hesitated, her own breath a little uneven, but then she finally stepped back, giving you space.
She gave a soft, knowing smile, she didn’t say anything more about the breakup, but there was something in her eyes that told you she understood more than she let on, an empathy she held back.
She closed the gap, her skilled fingers deftly fixing the printer. With a swift movement, she had it churning out papers. "There you go," she spoke, a small smile tugging at her mouth. Her gaze swept over you once more. Her eyes held a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite understand before she turned, striding confidently towards the door.
You stood there, flushed and still reeling from the almost-kiss. Letting out a deep, long sigh, you rubbed your face before slamming your hands on the table. Your gaze drifted to the floor as a turmoil of emotions swirled through you. Confused, conflicted, angry - you felt everything all at once and it was too much to wrap your head around.
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phantom-chirp · 3 days
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As time goes on since finishing P5R I feel like I'm most likely to go with Akechi being alive post-game in my AU. The specifics of it depends on strikers (which I haven't played yet) but at the center of Akechi being alive post-game in regards to shuake, to me, is the idea that he and Ren can get their wish on their own terms
From what I've seen that section in that one artbook basically confirms that Maruki's reality in regards to them is just as much Akechi's wish as it is Ren's. I believe there's more to Akechi's wish then just Ren alone, which can be inferred based on the bad ending and things leading up to it, but Ren's definitely a major part of it
Akechi's whole character throughout the game is heavily tied to how much control he has over his own life, and in my mind a lot of Ren's character is as well, especially in relation to their dynamic. They were both chosen by higher powers to inevitably go against each other, and the only time they have a chance at actually living a life where they could be together happily is because someone else is pulling the strings
They can't accept Maruki's version of reality even if they both desperately want it, because it's all just a lie, just another way they are being controlled because someone or something thinks they know what's best for society and is trying to reach that goal. So both Ren and Akechi let their wish go, choosing to face the truth of the reality they live in instead, a reality in which they don't even have a chance at a happy ending because Akechi is dead
But the thought that they both, after everything that happened in the game, can try to make things work between them and work towards having a happy life together if Akechi is alive post-game feels really meaningful to me. There's no outside influence destining them to fight each other, and there is no one controlling reality to force a world in which they are happy. Instead they have control of their lives now, and they can choose to make their wish real for themselves. They're in control of making a world where they are happy
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