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[peachysunrize]

Labyrinth ⥃ Aemond Targaryen

Summary: falling in love is easy for most people, but not for Aemond Targaryen. How can a broken cold-hearted man be able to love the most gentle human Westeros has ever seen?

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, very very gentle, angst angst angst angst!!!, humiliation, reader is Daemon & Laena’s oldest daughter, no description for reader (besides white hair) you can imagine her however you like, Aemond is a vulnerable & insecure baby girl, like he is really really insecure, mentions of murder, fluff, nightmares, chronic pain, mentions of Aemond’s injury, anxiety attack, babes are in looooove, English isn’t my first language<3 it’s very heavily plotted and the smut is at the end of the story.

Word count: 11.5k (she's so long but worth it)

a/n: I’ve always wanted to write something with this kind of trope, especially when it’s from the man’s pov, and there’re so little fics that get into the depths of Aemond’s pain and suffering so I needed to try and write something that says his part of the story as well! Please please tell me your opinions and favorite lines of this piece! I’ve worked sooo hard for this fic and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! Reblogs and comments are appreciated<3🩷

A very special thank you to my babies, @namelesslosers & @neptuneiris for beta-ing and supporting my ideas😭🫂✨

“Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?”

Aemond watches the scene unfold in front of him; his mother seeking justice for him, slashing Rhaenyra’s forearm with the dagger in her hand, spilling her blood in fury.

He looks around the room, finding you scared behind your grandfather, looking at him with wide teary eyes. He scowls when he sees how you look at him with pity, thinking he is a deformed monster in your eyes, to his best friend’s eyes.

You leave the hall in a rush, and he scoffs at how unbearable he must look for you to go in such haste, allowing this injustice to wreck his world and him to cope with the aftermath alone. How could you leave him like that? What happened to all the hours he helped you build that stupid sandcastle next to where Vhagar lays? Did you forget every moment, every laughter you had together?

He stands up and walks to his mother, telling her that Vhagar is worth it. But is it true? It might be worth gaining the largest dragon alive, but in the back of his mind, he thinks about how he has lost you.

No, you left him, he hasn’t done anything wrong. He is the one with his eye in a tray, he is the one who needs tending to for the first time, and you left him while he and his mother were humiliated by Rhaenyra and her bastards.

The morning comes sooner than expected, the milk of the poppy knocked him out immediately last night. He walks down the stairs where his family is gathering to leave, his mother holding Helaena’s hand while god knows where his father is, probably saying his goodbyes to his daughter and Princess Rhaenys. 

Aemond moves toward the hill that Vhagar is sleeping on, catching the sight of you waiting for him next to the sandcastles he helped you build yesterday after your mother’s funeral.

“What do you want?” he asks, standing in front of you, trying not to frown too much to loosen his stitches.

“I-I wanted to ask how you were doing…”

“After leaving me all alone? You were my friend! I needed you and you left me! And you ask how I am after I got my eye cut out?” He shouts at you, waking up Vhagar from her drowsy nap.

“I-I don’t have any excuses, but Aemond, please—” “No, I hate you! I hate your stupid hair, your eyes, your laugh, even-even your sandcastles! They are so childish and-and ugly!” “I know you are upset with me, and I’m so sorry for what happened to you, but please let me—” “No!” he yells at you again, marching toward the castle next to your feet before he stomps all over it, screaming and crying while he ruins the perfect sculpture he himself has made for you.

“Aemond…” the sob that wrecks through you makes him stop, but you are not looking at his feet, you are looking at his face, crying for him. He doesn’t spare a glance at you when he walks to climb Vhagar’s saddle, but guilt overwhelms his emotions and dread fills him.

You just wanted to talk, and he treated you so poorly even if his anger was justified.

Oblivious to him, as soon as he and his family were gone, you ran to your grandmother, crying in her arms and begging her to allow you to study with Maesters, in hopes that someday you may help your childhood friend with the pain he will carry for the rest of his life.

•••••••••••

Jacaerys’ name day, another pathetic excuse to have his sister and her pups in the capital under the same roof, drinking and wasting the crown’s money. He can’t blame them though, they’re desperate to get on the lords’ good sides by showing off their heritage, going with songs and praises for the heir after his mother.

Unnecessary, stupid… 

Aemond groans, running his hand over his face as he wakes up with the sounds of banging in the hallway. He knows that they’re arriving today, and he’s aware that the royal chambers should be ready when his sister makes a face, but to wake him up at such an early hour after the rough night he had should have severe consequences.

With another deep groan, he sits up on his bed, looking at the sea from between the sheer curtains of his room, watching the sunlight shine bright on the surface of the water, Sunfyre and Dreamfyre already taking turns in the sky over the city.

He stands up, looking down at the soaked undershirt he had on during sleep, exhaling deeply as he pulls the fabric off, slamming it down on the couch as he walks to the balcony to get some fresh air. The morning breeze hits his sweat-covered chest, stinging the empty socket of his eye.

He knows he should go back inside, to cover his scar and avoid pain from the cold wind, but the contrast of the coldness of it on his heated skin is soothing his mind, calming his beating heart. He will regret it during the day, but for now, after experiencing yet another nightmare, he needs to feel alive again.

As soon as the sharp pain starts from the depths of his skull, he moves back, shutting the door and pulling the curtains closed. He stands straight, his nails digging inside his palms as he controls, or tries to control his breathing. 

It always starts like this; a sting, then another one but sharper, then a minimal pain that surrounds his scar, and finally, the stabbing pain all over his face followed by the worst headache someone can ever endure.

He reaches for the nearest surface he can lean on, knuckles turning white as he keeps his weight up, trying not to fall on his knees just yet.

He can do it, he has done it countless times.

Aemond steadies himself on his feet before he sighs shakily, walking towards the clothes his mother’s servants laid down for him yesterday. It is a simple outfit; a leather tunic with black pants and a fresh beige undershirt. Nothing too fancy, and nothing less regal that a prince should wear.

He takes his time while getting ready, allowing the phantom pain of his eye to fade away slowly. Before he can button up his tunic, his chamber servants come running in, putting a bowl of water with a warm towel on the side desk while they prepare his breakfast. He covers the left side of his face with his hand so as to not scare them with the unbearable sight of the empty space in his face.

He watches them with a sleepy gaze as they clear the room, slamming the door behind them. Aemond sits in front of his mirror, taking the brush in his hand to untangle his unruly hair.

There are no thoughts in his head as he stares blankly at his reflection; he hates his scar with a passion that could set the realm on fire. There is no gentleness in his features, everything is sharp, angular, and rough. There is no trace left of the boy he was before his nephew took out his eye.

Doomed before he could even try to become someone worthy.

He ties his hair, revealing more of the healed wound and the dark empty socket on his face. Sometimes he gets stuck inside the labyrinth of his head, running and running until he reaches the middle, but it’s never enough. At the end of the maze, someone drops dead; whether he kills them or they kill him. There is no escape from these dreams, from these self-destructive thoughts that haunt him day and night.

He reaches for a box on the vanity, pulling out the sapphire gem before reaching for an ointment Maester has given him to help the gem fill his eye socket without pain.

He looks at himself again; he looks less like a brute, the gem adds to his beauty but in his mind, it’s not enough, it’ll never be. He sees his brothers, healthy and handsome, being subjected to women’s attention all the time, and sometimes he wishes desperately to be in their place, to be able to talk to a lady without frightening her. But he has learned that a maimed man is less worthy than a whore in Streets of Silk, so he exercises and trains daily to become worthy again, to live up to his Targaryen name. There are deep yet little scars adorning all over the skin of his hands and arms — a reminder of how he has become the man he is.

He eats his breakfast in silence, tension rising in his shoulders as the smoke of the candles on his desk reaches his eye. He drops his spoon on the table, blowing the candles out before he reaches for his eyepatch.

He has told everyone that there shouldn’t be any scented candles in his rooms, but as it seems no one ever pays attention to what he has to say, not even to help with the pain of his eye.

He stands up, knocking a few plates on the table to the floor, smearing fresh fruits on his carpet. A deep groan rumbles through his chest, but he can’t care less about anything other than the fact that he needs to join his family in the throne room — and he does after he grabs his dagger and secures it in his belt.

“Ser,” Aemond nods at his appointed guard, earning a ‘good morning, my prince’ from him. Aemond walks down the stairs with his head held high, scoffing at the servants who make a path for him hurriedly, trying to avoid being seen by him or see him.

The bustling of the castle is irritating; everyone is running from one corner to another and decorating the keep for their princess’ arrival. He is not annoyed that he has to reunite with his sister and nephews, but because he has to endure their presence for longer than necessary, to look them in the eye and act civil as if the pain he copes with already isn’t enough torment from them.

He nods at Ser Cole, who follows him into the crowded hall, eying everyone who is waiting for the Realm’s delight. Aegon and Helaena are standing side by side, his sister is clutching Aegon’s arm tightly as the crowd makes her feel small under its gaze. His mother looks at the throne silently, and he can see the hesitation in her eyes — how are they going to go through these weeks of celebration, they have no idea.

“Good morrow, Mother,” he whispers as he stands behind her, his eye softening at the small smile she gives him, “you look radiant this morning.”

“Hush you, sweet talker,” she chuckles lowly, rubbing his arms lovingly, “have you heard about the Velaryons’ arrival?”

“Lord Corlys is coming as well?” he asks, shifting on his feet nervously, his fingers tightening slightly on Alicent’s elbows, “I did not know…” “Neither did I, darling. They shall arrive at the same time as Rhaenyra, at least I know Daemon’s eldest will.”

“Driving on dragonback, obviously,” he mutters, sighing shakily. 

Alicent notices his hesitancy, she gently cups his cheek, forcing him to look her in the eyes, “Do not project your anger on her, she was but a child.”

“Yet she kept silent that night. She was supposed to be my friend,” he says, looking away from his mother, lowering his head in shame, beating himself for letting his emotions take hold of him.

“Give your courtesy and leave if you wish not to talk to her,” Alicent smiles sadly at Aemond, patting his cheek before they both look at the doors of the hall.

Something in his guts drops when he sees Rhaenyra entering, her family walking towards them, all smiling and laughing as if they aren’t going to experience the most dreadful weeks of their lives. 

“Your grace,” Rhaenyra says, trying to break the visible tension between the families. The crowd goes silent, and the only thing they can hear is the soft exhales of the people close to them, everyone waiting with bated breath to see what happens in a few seconds.

“Princess,” Alicent smiles, “welcome back to your home,” she replies politely, giving Daemon a half courtesy before she congratulates Jacaerys for his eight-and-ten name day.

“Aegon…”

Aemond looks away from his sister as she acknowledges them all, instead his eye finds Daemon’s who is staring back at him with a smirk on his face. Aemond’s gaze doesn’t waver, and Daemon chuckles at that, giving him a challenging look.

He looks back at Rhaenyra who says his name, giving him a forced smile before she turns around quickly and asks for the King.

“He is quite unwell, he shall join us in the evening,” Alicent explains, telling the maids to make haste and set the garden ready to start the celebrations; nothing too fancy for the noon, a tea gathering in the garden to reunite everyone, or at least to make sure the court has something to gossip about.

Aemond follows them slowly, taking time to observe each and every one of them. He can’t shake the uneasy feeling that settles in his chest as his eye finds Lucerys Velaryon, laughing and looping his arm with Rhaena. He looks away immediately, lips forming into a sneer as he walks with his hands behind him, grinding his teeth while he thinks about how he was robbed of everything good because of that bastard, because of the hideous scar he gave him.

The garden is filled with new bushes; roses, lilacs, daisies, and surprisingly winter roses. The sight would have been quite beautiful if all this fuss wasn’t for his nephew. He walks away from the crowd, making his way toward his siblings who are trying to appeal content with the events. Helaena is in her own world, lifting a worm from the ground as she counts its feet. Aegon is gulping down his wine while he listens to Daeron telling him about whatever book he has read these past few days, or at least he seems like he is paying attention.

Aemond sighs, grabbing a goblet of wine himself to nurse on it as he tries to distract himself from the chilly wind that hits his face. Luckily the eyepatch covers his eye socket fully and doesn’t let the cold breeze hit his scar, but the tension in his bones has remained from the morning rush of pain he experienced earlier. It’d be best if he left this pointless gathering earlier anyway.

“How are you faring this beautiful morning, brother?” Aegon asks him, grinning sarcastically. Daeron groans in response, even though the question wasn’t meant for him. Everyone can tell he is fed up with Aegon’s constant teasing of Rhaenyra’s family coming back to Red Keep.  

“Well enough to know I will be leaving in a few minutes,” Aemond replies, sipping on his wine as he catches Luke stealing glances at him. Pathetic, he is too scared to even look at him properly, he is glad though, it gives him a sense of comfort to know the mark he has left on his face scares him enough to keep him away from him.

“Can’t do that! It’d be rude if you left without saying hi to our favorite Velaryons.” Aegon smirks, tipping his head back as he laughs at Aemond’s sneer.

“As much as I hate to say this, but the idiot is right; you can’t give them more reasons to resent us,” Daeron says, looking at his older brother with kind eyes, “besides, they are here anyway.” he points at the passageway leading to the garden, catching the sight of Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys walking side by side toward the crowd.

Aemond’s heart stops for a second when his good eye lays upon you, following your grandparents with a gentle smile grazing your lips. You are a sight to behold; silver hair falling around your shoulders like curtains of moonlight that shine bright like a diamond beneath the morning rays of sunshine. Your gown the bluest of blue that shows your devotion to your mother’s house, and your lips painted pink in the most alluring way… 

Aemond’s eye sees a sight his mind can not comprehend, too unreal and beautiful that makes him doubt if he is seeing you with his sapphire eye through the patch.

His face is blank, but his heart is beating so fast he can hear his pulse in his ears. His eye follows you, watching you bow before his mother and sister, looking away immediately to find your sisters already giddy to hug you. Rhaena is the first to run to you, wrapping her arms around you while Baela approaches you slowly, letting her twin have her moment with you.

He doesn’t move from his spot, he can’t move even if he wants to; he’s struck between shock and something he can’t pinpoint; he can only say for sure that he hopes it’s a rush of adrenaline of not seeing you for so long.

The only time he looks away from you is when Daeron pats his back and encourages him to join everyone to say hello and welcome your family to the Keep. He doesn’t need to say a word, just a nod at both Corlys and Rhaenys is enough, but when you turn around to greet him and his siblings, his breath gets stuck in his lungs. 

You look at him from beneath your lashes, beaming so radiantly at him that he almost forgets the pain in his eye or the pain he has caused you the last time he saw you. The world around him fades away, the noises become distance as his sky-blue eye finds yours easily, and he has to swallow sharply while he desperately tries to keep his face stoic and serious and not show you how he is panicking from inside, palms sweaty and lips drying while he gazes at you, his childhood friend who… suddenly the bubble around you breaks and he remembers how you abandoned him that night at Driftmark.

“My lady,” he says in a hushed tone, watching your reaction closely.

“My prince, it’s so good to see you again,” you grin at him, “I hope you are doing well.”

“As well as a half-blinded man can do,” averting his eye from you, he regrets the words he said immediately, flushing a bit in embarrassment, but when he looks back at you, your smile hasn’t left your face, if anything you look at him with empathy and much kindness that he has a hard time believing you are real; it’s been too long since anyone has looked at him with such sincerity.

“Darling,” Daemon steps closer to them, ruining the moment for Aemond to say something, anything to take back what he said earlier.

He watches your smile wavering a little when you look at your father, hands fidgeting with the skirt of your dress. He notices how you try to ignore your father and Rhaenyra as they approach you, a tense smile on his sister’s lips while she tightens her grip on her husband’s arm.

“We have missed you, the girls, and I,” Daemon says, reaching to caress your hair as gently as the Rogue prince can, “you did not visit us at Dragonstone.” “I don’t like it there, the castle unnerves me,” You reply softly, “I rather enjoy the silence of grandsire’s castle.” “You are a Targaryen, you should visit your ancestor’s sit,” Rhaenyra tries her best to persuade you to think about coming back with them, leaving your lovely grandparents alone.

“I’m a Velaryon just as much as I’m a Targaryen, but ‘tis not a matter we should discuss at such a joyous day, don’t you think, princess?” you say, and Aemond sees it in your eyes how desperately you wish for the conversation to end. Aemond watches his sister’s words falter, her confidence crumbling with each word that you utter. Your statement is not rude, not even filled with malicious intent, but the mention of your Mother’s side of the family makes the Targaryen couple uncomfortable.

“I would have loved to stay and talk with you, Father, but I’m afraid the journey on dragonback has left me starving. Please, excuse me,” you nod at them before walking past them to the corner where Aemond and his siblings were sitting minutes ago, reaching for a glass of wine to gulp down.

Aemond doesn’t spare a glance at the couple, following you closely so he can sit in silence and out of the sun, truly not wishing for another fit of agony that consumes his skull.

“You have grown, Aemond,” you sit beside him, turning your head to look at his side profile, “no longer the child who used to build sandcastles with me when I would visit the Keep.”

“Yes, no longer a child with friends. Spending years apart without any contact, surely you are not that surprised how I have turned out to be,” he scoffs at your words, frowning when he turns around and finds you chuckling gently, “Did I jest about something I’m not aware of?”

“No, no, I just remembered how we promised to never let anyone break us apart, but you were the first who did so; you stomped your feet on my sandcastles the morning after my Mother’s funeral. You are right though, no ravens were exchanged, but I do hope you’re still the sweet prince who helped me study.” your lips twist into a small smile.

You are not angry with him, how can you not be angry with him? You had spent hours after they freed your Mother’s soul into the sea to find the perfect place to build your sandcastles and he ruined them the morning he was about to leave.

Your teary eyes have haunted him from that moment to this day.

“I apologize, I did not wish to remind you of that night,”

“I’m reminded every time I look into a mirror, do not concern yourself.” his reply is curt as he gazes at you, your eyes full of sadness and sympathy for a man you no longer know. Or maybe you know him too much, he thinks.

“I look forward to spending time with you, my prince. I hope we can catch up on each other's lives.” “Perhaps we can,” he sounds unsure of himself, Getting to know you again while you have turned into a woman grown — the most beautiful woman he has ever seen at that — is going to be a challenge he does not know he welcomes or fears greatly.

•••••••••••

He leaves sooner than he should, hiding in his room with a warm towel on his face as he soothes the pain of his eye, the headache he had since morning finally fading away. There are so many thoughts lingering in his head, and ironically, they are all filled by you; your gown, bright smile, and gentle personality.

He groans, so frustrated that he has met you a few hours prior yet you have consumed his every thought. If he focuses hard enough, he can see the labyrinth of his nightmares, the hedges are covered in ivy, suffocating as they reach for air — he thinks of him as the hedge, and how easily he has let you wrap yourself around his thoughts this quickly.

Weak, he thinks to himself, he’s weak.

He sits up, dropping the towel in the bowl on his nightstand, breathing deeply as he looks around his dark room, spotting a lit candle on his desk in the corner.

Sometimes it baffles him how his room represents his inner self so openly; it’s not messy, no, but if you squint you can see the abandoned book in the foot of his chair, ink dripping from his pot on the carpet, the candle illuminating the trail of black paint on his desk. It seems as if his room is showing the ugly part of itself to his eye, and for a second he thinks about how he sees himself — an ugly monster with an unsightly scar.

Aemond leaves his room a few minutes after fixing his eyepatch and hair, walking to the king’s solar to join his family for dinner. He walks with his hands clasped together behind him, looking straight to avoid eye contact with anyone who sees him on his way up the stairs. He doesn't expect to see you of all people, heading out of your room to take the same path as him.

“Aemond!” You say his name with such enthusiasm that has his heart racing again, beaming at him as if you are excited to see him. How could you be this giddy to meet him? No one has expressed to be happy to spend time with him, let alone smile at him the way you do. Is this an act of modesty? It has to be, he thinks, or else it does not make sense at all.

“My lady,” he bows his head politely, “How come you are late for such an interesting gathering?”

You giggle a little, walking side by side with him, “I was spending some time with Helaena’s children. Oh, they are such sweet babes!”

“Indeed they are,” he replies quietly, watching you curiously as you round him to stand on his good side, “what are you doing, My Lady?”

“I did not realize I was on your blind side, Aemond, forgive me,” “There is nothing to forgive,” he sucks in a harsh breath, pondering over your response for the rest of the way til King’s solar. The silence is oddly comfortable even though he gets a bit nervous when you keep glancing at him. 

There’s an unusual warmth spreading through his chest, he can’t understand it — it can be his heart since it’s beating too hard and fast, or perhaps even his lungs! He can’t even breathe properly, but at the same time, he feels… right, much better than before. He blames you for the conflicted emotions, it’s all your doings, he is sure. Because whenever he looks at you, he feels as if his clothes are suffocating him, his ears ring while the world fades around him, and the center of his world becomes you.

Weak, worthless, he has just met you, yet all these years apart seem blurry to him, as if he has known you since the age of the Firstmen; so familiar and comforting, even though you left him alone the night he needed you the most.

The guards open the door to the solar, and Aemond follows you inside, his eye wandering all over the room, taking his surroundings in. His mother and Rhaenyra are sitting at the table, his nephews are standing on their mother’s side while Aegon is trying to listen to whatever lecture Otto is giving him.

He watches you walk to your sisters, wrapping your arms around Baela and Rhaena as they both start talking to you about the things they have done during the past years you’ve been Lord Corlys’ ward in Driftmark.

“You’re staring,” Daeron says out of nowhere, pulling Aemond out of his thoughts but he doesn’t look away, he keeps his eye trailing on you until you turn around and catch his eye as well, smiling broadly at him.

“I am merely observing,” he replies, but knows his brother is right. It’s only the first dinner but he can already feel his eye itching to be on you again.

“Whatever makes you happy,” Daeron shrugs, leading him to Aegon and Helaena to sit down.

He finds an empty seat next to him, thinking Daeron is the one who’d sit beside him, but when he sees it’s you who reaches for the chair, his heart leaps to his throat before he composes himself quickly, pulling it out like the prince he is.

You give a smile that is worth countless gold dragons, and for the second time today, he questions if the sapphire is a magical eye, because the world turns a bit brighter and less dull when he looks at you. He sits next to you, his eyebrows twisting into a deep frown when he sees Lucerys at the other side of the table engaged in a deep conversation with Rhaena, playing the role of the happy family quite well.

Everyone stands up when the guards bring in the King, everyone except for Helaena but neither she nor Aemond pays any attention to others. One is busy playing with her hairpin, and he is busy admiring your ethereal face as you kiss the king, your uncle’s cheek, thanking him for having you and your grandparents in his home after so many years. As soon as Viserys sits behind the table, you take your place next to him again, giving him a small smile before you turn your head to listen to what his father has to say. 

He knows what his father is about to say; first, he thanks them all for coming, paying special attention to his grandsons and Rhaenyra while he lies over and over again about how much he loves them all, how they should never let the House of the Dragon fall into ruins, oblivious to the fact that not Rhaenyra nor Alicent were the ones who broke the family into different agendas, but it was him who started the flame.

Tonight, Aemond doesn’t look at his sister to attend to her. His eye is solely on you, taking in the shape of your lashes kissing your cheekbones, carving the silhouette of your nose and lips in his memories. He looks at the way your lips curve into a grin, cheeks forming into the most beautiful shape he has ever witnessed.

You turn your head a little to glance at him, catching him red-handed while he tries to play it cool, but he finds that he is not powerful enough to look away from your blown-out pupils and the orange hue that’s cast on your irises softly.

He breaks the eye contact, a scowl forming on his face as he reaches for his goblet of wine, nearly throwing the goblet across the table when he hears Lucerys laughing at the two of you.

You beat him to it before he could open his mouth, “Is there something funny, Prince Lucerys?” your voice is so soft and slow, almost humiliatingly sweet, and funnily, it terrifies Luke. 

Aemond smirks as he watches his nephew stuttering over his words while everyone around the table sits in uncomfortable silence, waiting for the young prince to say something, anything.

“I was surprised by how fast Uncle Aemond took a liking to you, given his looks and all,”  he explains, sarcasm dripping like honey from each of his words.

Fucking bastard, Aemond thinks to himself as an ugly sneer sits on his face. As much as he wants to leap toward him and cut off his tongue, he can’t — not when you put your hand on his over the hilt of his dagger.

Your skin is so smooth atop his calloused one. The way your fingers wrap around his wrist sets his body on fire, burning the skin in a way unknown to any man, but this is no ordinary burn; there’s no trace of fire, no long-forgotten ashes of his bones are visible, instead his fingers twitch for more, begging for more skin to skin contact, but he pulls his hand away from you without looking away from Luke’s blushing face.

“Your words are mean for no reason, Lucerys, given how it’s been your doing that has caused Aemond his scar,” you say, “I find him quite handsome actually. He was my beloved friend when we were younger. There are, of course, many feelings between us. Nothing has happened out of the blue for you to mock him for.”

“I-I apologize, good sister, I wasn’t…”

“It is not me who you should apologize to, it’s Aemond. I have taken no offense on my behalf but I do believe you owe him an apology.” You explain, sipping from your glass slowly while keeping your eyes on Lucerys.

No one, not even the King has the strength to intrude into the situation, maybe in doubt of saying something to hurt you, or perhaps you’re just speaking the truth, and for once, everyone fears your gentle mannerisms.

“I apologize, uncle,” 

Aemond’s stare is blank as he looks at Luke who’s chewing the inside of his cheek in embarrassment. He nods, not bothering to reply to him; he will never forgive nor forget what he has done to him, crushing his hopes and ruining his worth for a lifetime.

“Let us put our differences aside, and become a family again,” the king says, coughing before he reaches to drink from his cup. 

The dinner goes smoothly from there and to Aemond’s surprise, he engages in more conversations with you. He does not talk too much, he’d rather listen to your giggles and stories rather than talk about his boring and miserable life.

His eye always lingers on you for far longer than it should, not in an inappropriate way, but more in a sense of intrigue and curiosity, trying to understand you from his perspective. He simply can’t though; you are worlds apart. He is a cold-hearted, broken, and worthless man when it comes to your bright and beautiful personality. Even if he gets to know you again after so many years, he would never think himself worthy enough to be in your presence.

“Aemond…?” you call his name oh so sweetly, making him feel as if he is on top of Vhagar, flying atop the city while the wind blows in his hair; it makes him feel alive.

“Yes, My Lady?”

“Are you alright? You look quite flushed,” You smile sweetly, reaching to put the back of your hand on his cheek, flustering him even more than he already is.

“Yes, yes, I might have had too much wine,” he doesn’t know who he is trying to convince; you or him? By the sound of it, it’s him who needs to be convinced that it’s the wine in his blood and not the same unknown feeling he gets when you look at him. No, it is definitely the wine. It has to be.

“Oh, well then, I wish to spend more time with you if you are not against it,”

“Why would I be?” he asks almost too quickly, making you chuckle at his… enthusiasm. If he can even call it that.

“Then I’d be overjoyed if we could rebound what we had as children.”

•••••••••••

After the dinner, something between you and Aemond shifted; he spent more time outside his room, he was calmer and less serious, and the pain in his skull was almost gone. You joined him in the library a few times in the next few days, meeting each other at your door to attend the meals side by side, and almost everyone could feel how he was changing the longer he had you close, almost turning into the little boy he once was.

Both of you forget your last interactions as an act of mercy for the other.

With your insistence, he agreed to miss the tourney being held for Jace’s nameday to sneak out of the castle and take you to the beach. He did not need much convincing, but when you gave him those doe eyes with a little pout on your lips, he felt weaker than he ever did and gave in immediately.

Aemond helps you down the rocks near the shoreline with your small hands in his, taking cautious steps down to not trip over and hurt yourself. He keeps his eye on your feet instead of his, worrying more about you than himself even though he is stepping down with his good eye on you, not looking where he is going.

That seems to be a bad decision, because the next second, not only does his foot miss a small rock, but yours slips on one too, tumbling into his arms as the two of you fall on the soft sand, Aemond’s arms wrapping tightly around your back to keep you steady.

He looks at you, panting as his eye widens at the closeness; your faces are inches away from each other, and he can feel your soft rushed exhales on his lips. You look like a goddess atop him, the sun illuminating your silver hair, reminding him of the last sennight when you arrived and your hair made your face shine even brighter.

He has never seen such a beauty before, sure he has seen the ladies of the court, but your Valyrian beauty combined with sunlight and the blue hue of the sky has him mesmerized, not realizing how his hands are gripping your waist while he stares at you.

You giggle at first, then break into a fit of laughter while you lean more into him, dropping your forehead on his shoulder as you laugh wholeheartedly.

He chuckles lowly at first, then matches your laughter and throws his head back, holding you on him by one arm while the other comes to run over his face. 

“I have never heard you laugh so freely before,” you say after you have calmed down, putting your palms on either side of his face while you hover over him.

“I don’t remember having a reason to do so,” he replies, smiling up at you.

“I’m glad that I’m able to bring joy to your life, you deserve it.” leaning down, you press a gentle kiss on his cheek before standing up, smoothing down your skirt.

He is at loss of words, speechless to his core. He deserves it, he thinks, do you truly think a monster like him deserves any chance of happiness?  How are you not disgusted by him, his scar, his sour and mean tongue? How can you ever leave a butterfly kiss on someone as unworthy as him? 

He looks at you from where he is staying lying on the sand, watching as you extend your hand to him, rocking on your heels in anticipation so you can go and wander on the beach and reunite with the sea.

He grabs your hand, standing up on his feet as well. There is sand in both of your clothes, but you have just begun your venture and won’t stop until you are satisfied.

You don’t let go of his hand when you start jogging, pulling him with you as you giggle in delight. And he observes you as he always does; wind in your hair, waves crashing against the shore while your laughter fills the air around him. He doesn’t realize his smile has widened and he is following you just as excited, letting the sand and the sea separate you from the outer world.

“You promised you would make a sandcastle for me!” you say, pulling him behind you to the spot where you would sneak away as children, sitting down to get to work.

“I did not,” he replies, unbuttoning his tunic so he can stay under the sun without being bothered by the heat.

“Fine, you did not. But you ruined the one we built together at Driftmark so you owe me one!”

He chuckles at you, his dimples on display as he shakes his head, “Alright, I will make one for you.”

It took you a good few hours to finish the sandcastle; it could have finished much sooner if you hadn’t thrown wet sand at him, cleaning your dirty hands with his white cotton undershirt just to annoy him — and it worked. In a second, he was chasing you around the beach with hands full of wet sand curved into balls, throwing them at you.

And here you are now, fingers laced together, shoes in one hand as you both walk on the shoreline, letting the waves cool your feet. You point at the sunset, leaning on his side when you come to a stop to watch the sky change color as the sun goes down.

Aemond on the other hand, looks at your calm face that is glowing under the pink and orange sunlight. How did he get so lucky to be blessed by such a beauty to lay his eye upon? Maybe he truly deserves this unknown feeling that spreads through him like fire and makes his fingers tingle and his heart beat in happiness. Maybe he deserves to be loved by you and love you unconditionally in return.

You turn around, dropping your shoes before you reach up to cup his cheeks. He closes his eye and basks in the attention you give him; so unique and pure. He drops his boots as well, arms circling your waist to pull you closer.

Aemond doesn’t dare to open his eye, fearing that he might ruin this perfect moment as you trace the lines of his lips, his cheekbones, and his jaw. You are so gentle with him, something he is not quite used to. It has always been him, alone in a cold room, but now and here with you, he feels as if he can breathe again, and forget every pain he has endured to reach this moment of his life.

“Open your eye, My Prince,” you whisper before you peck the corner of his lips, pulling him in so you can rest your forehead on his.

He obligates, sighing shakily when he finds you already looking at him. Your gaze is so genuine that somehow scares him, a rush of destructive thoughts comes into his head, but you seem to notice it from how his hands shake on your waist.

“Don’t think about anything, just… just focus on me.” 

He does as you say, his brain shutting those annoying voices at the back of his head down as soon as your nose brushes against his, your soft lips brushing over his so endearingly. He is hesitant at first but when you peck him again, he moves forward as well, meeting you halfway until his lips are locked with yours.

You taste as sweet as the strawberry cakes you had this morning, if not sweeter. The way your lips move together makes his head hazy. You are kissing his breath away, leaving him begging for more. His chest moves up and down quickly when you break the kiss, and you caress his thin swollen lips, bruised by your kisses and lack of air, while he admires you from head to toe.

The sun has set, but the glimmer of love has risen inside of Aemond’s broken heart.

•••••••••••

A kiss here and there, more sneaking around the castle and to the beach until the main event for Jace’s birthday arrives. He is in his mother’s solar, listening to her talk about how lovely you are and how much of a wonderful couple you would make with him if only you weren’t Daemon’s daughter.

“Mother—”

“You should dance with her tonight, my darling!” Alicent says, running her hands over his arms when he stands up and approaches her, “I have heard Daemon has plans of betrothing her. Obviously, he has yet to find someone suitable, but he is thinking about it.”

Aemond’s heart drops when Alicent says your father is looking for a suiter, fortunately, Alicent sees his surprise, shock, and fear. She reaches to cup his cheek, forcing him to maintain eye contact while she talks, “Don’t let her go if you truly wish to have her. I know that she would stand strong against her father and Rhaenyra, but she would need your support and love as well to feel brave enough to turn down a good match.”

“They would make her happier than I can ever do, Mother,” he replies, his voice breaking slightly. Losing you terrifies him, and he is aware that his mother can read him like an open book, shushing him while he inhales sharply.

“I have never seen her happier than I have with you, and I have never seen you this happy and lively, darling. Be selfish for once, choose your happiness this time.”

“How can I choose my happiness over her life?!” he asks harshly, frowning at his mother.

A knock interrupts Alicent before she can respond, and the guards open the door for you to step inside the queen’s room.

“Oh, I apologize, it was not my intention to interrupt you.”

Aemond seems to be struck by your beauty; your body is wrapped in a teal-colored gown with a low neckline that leaves your shoulders and collarbones on display. Your silver hair is braided with some parts of it pinned up, some strands framing your bare neck.

“You look so beautiful, my darling,” Alicent says, nudging Aemond a bit forward when she sees how he is looking at you.

“Thank you, my queen. You look very beautiful as well,” you look away from the queen, smiling when he approaches you slowly, “you said you were going to wear something close to this color and I decided it would look quite good to match. How do I look?”

“Enchanting,” he breathes out, reaching to hold your hand, pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles, “You look breathtaking, My Lady.”

“So do you, My Prince.”

“Shall we then?” he offers you his arm and you accept without hesitation, looking back to see if the queen will come with you and she assures you she will come with the King.

“You said you were going to retrieve me from my chambers for the party,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder as the two of you walk toward the great hall.

“I am deeply sorry. Mother wanted to have a word with me,” he explains, dropping a quick kiss on the crown of your head.

“Is everything alright, Aemond?” you ask him, and he chuckles at how adorably your brows twist into a frown in worry. “Yes, darling, she merely wished to remind me to make sure you have a great time tonight. You are our special guest.”

“Does that mean you will dance with me?” you ask, holding his hands in yours before you reach the hall.

“We shall see,” he brings your hands to his lips again, leading you toward the hall, bowing and nodding at the ladies and lords who take it upon themselves to greet you.

You come to a stop in front of the table, Rhaena coming to hug you and twirl you around, gasping at the sight of your beautiful gown, gasping even louder when she sees how your dress matches Aemond’s tunic.

A ghost of a smile finds its way on Aemond’s face as he watches you get flustered at your sister’s attention to details, but soon, his eye hardens when he finds his uncle glaring at the two of you. Tonight will change the course of so many lives.

He watches you laugh with your sisters, pointing at the empty chair next to you so he would sit close by all night. With one last glare at his uncle, he walks to his seat and pours wine into his cup, blushing a bit when he hears you laughing again. You are not even laughing at something he has said and he is the one who gets flushed.

He is knee-deep inside these new feelings but he welcomes the challenge with open arms. Or at least he tries to do so without Daemon being an obstacle to his plans. 

He looks at you when Rhanea and Helaena pull you to the dancefloor for the new song, pairing up with different lords to dance with, but what catches his eye, isn’t who you are dancing with, but more than who Daemon is talking to. He recognizes the lord to be from the south, probably a Tyrell, and when his uncle and the lord look in your direction, he knows something is not right, an uneasy feeling settling deep in his stomach.

He watches the lord closely as he makes his way through the crowd to get to you, bowing and introducing himself before taking your hand to dance with you. He can see how uncomfortable he is making you, probably discussing his sick desire to have a wife and kids while he dances with a Targaryen-Valeryon goddess.

“Stop glaring and do something!” Baela slides into the seat next to him, hissing the words at him while she keeps her eyes fixed on you as well, “I don’t like you, I will never like you, but you make her happy. Do something before our father ruins her life because of Rhaenyra.” “I thought you liked your stepmother,” Aemond chooses to ignore most of the things she said.

“It’s Rhaenyra’s schemes, please, Aemond, my sister deserves to feel appreciated. I have never seen any lord take an interest in her the way you have. You are the only thing she could talk about in the last few days. I will beg you if I have to.” Aemond turns his head toward Baela, letting her words calm down the hesitancy he has toward courting you. There are far more handsome men than him in the court, yet, he is the one who is blessed to hold you and kiss you, to gaze into your eyes and see forever in them.

He hisses when he feels a sting in his skull, not now, no. The pain can’t start now. He gulps his wine before he nods at Bela and stands up to walk to the crowd in the middle of the hall, catching your eyes for a second before he has to bow and start the dance with a lady he does not care to engage in a conversation with.

He thinks about how much he has changed in a few days; there will always be a part of him who thinks he’s not worthy of your affection, that you can do better than him, but also the thought of you in another man’s arms sets his skin ablaze. He is torn between keeping you all to himself or letting you have a wonderful future with another guy who can stand by your side and make you proud, who is not maimed and scarred like him.

Luckily, everyone needs to change their partner and he reaches with his hand to grab yours and pull you to his side, grinning when he hears your delighted shriek. “My Prince Aemond,” you say, squeezing his hand while the two of you twirl around the room.

 He doesn’t wish to say, but the tempo is too high for me, and it worries him that somehow he might make a fool of himself or you if he trips over someone’s shoe on his blindside.

“Lady Targaryen, you look like a Valyrian Goddess, my beloved.”

“Why thank you, my good prince. I have to say that this color truly brings out your beautiful eye,” you reply coyly, tipping your chin up while you bite your lip.

“You are playing with fire, darling.” he leans down to whisper in your ear, pressing a feather-like kiss on your earlobe without anyone noticing.

“I’m a Targaryen, Prince Aemond, fire is in my blood,”

“Is that so? Well, I must say—”

He doesn’t know what happens, or how it happens, but in a second he can’t see you when he twirls you around him, and suddenly, the weight of your waist isn’t in his hand anymore.

“Aemond!” you fall down by his feet, and he sees that his boots have caught the edge of your heels, making you twist your ankle in the wrong way and causing your fall.

What have I done?

What have I done?

I dropped her.

I did this.

What happened?

His eye has widened in fear, and he is frozen in place, hands shaking slightly as he feels the crowd around you look in your direction, staring and gaping at him before the hushed whispers start to fill the room.

“Aemond, look—”

He can’t look at you. He will never be able to live with himself for humiliating you in the way he did tonight.

Stupid, weak, useless good for nothing, Aemond. If another lord was dancing with her, he wouldn’t have dropped her. A prince but less worthy than a common whore. 

With trembling lips, and a pain blooming in his eyesocket, he dashes out of the room, leaving you on the floor. 

His vision is blurry, the pain is getting worse and the air is stuck in his lungs. He can’t breathe, no, he doesn’t deserve to breathe. How can he when all he wanted to do was to dance with you but ended up hurting you? How could he hurt you like this? 

He skips the steps, running to his room while he groans in pain, the stinging is getting stronger, the agony in his nerves is spreading through his skull and it only gets worse when he opens the door to his chambers to find not only scented candles but the windows and the balcony door is open as well.

“You are dismissed!” he shouts at the guard before he slams the door shut, “Ah!” He tumbles down, gripping the nearest chair to keep himself on his feet at least before he falls on his knees, clawing at the eyepatch to pull it off as if it’s burning his skin.

The pain is like a dagger, stabbing him over and over again until even his knees don’t have the strength to keep him up. He falls on the floor, curling into a ball while the pain spreads through his face, and he finally breaks down, bursting into tears from agony and humiliation. If only he wasn’t in pain… if only his eye wasn’t cut out…

Aemond doesn’t hear when the door opens, nor he can see who the person is. Tears have flooded his vision, but as soon as he feels your soft hand on his arms, trying to help him sit up, he flinches, backing away from you while he gasps for air, feeling his tunic clinging to his sweaty body. 

“Aemond, please let me—” “No, no, no, no…” he stands up hurriedly, walking to the balcony on unsteady legs to get some air in his lungs, only to be met by a freezing wind that makes the chronic pain in his eye even worse. He drops to his knees again, this time the sounds of his gasps and painful yelps are louder than before.

You rush to his side, kneeling in front of him to cup his cheeks, kissing his clammy forehead before you wipe his tears away gently. He lets you touch him this time, too exhausted to utter a word, to push you away even if he has to.

“It’s going to be okay, Aemond, let me help you,” You help him on his feet, making sure to have your arms wrapped tightly around him while he leans his weight on you, trusting you to take care of him, even though the voice in the back of his head is telling him to push you out of his room.

“Gently, my love, gently,” you help him lay down on the bed, pecking his cheek again, rising to get the smoke out of the room but his hands shot up and grabs your forearm tightly.

“Stay, please,” he whimpers, his beautiful eye tearing in pain.

“I will, my dearest, I just need to blow out the candles and close the windows, and I’ll be back in bed with you.” You reach and bring his hand to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss upon his knuckles before he lets you go.

He can’t see you clearly, but your shadow moves from side to side frantically, blowing the candles on the balcony so the smoke won’t get inside again, shutting the windows quickly so the cold wind doesn’t bother him anymore before you come to bed again.

You unlace your gown, taking it off so you can tend to him more easily, pulling at the few pins inside your head to let the strands fall freely around your shoulders. You climb onto the bed, a jar of his salve and ointment in hand with clean rags in your other as you sit comfortably next to him, helping him take off his tunic and pants.

Aemond lies on the pillow on your lap, sniffing as you look at his face; bare and raw of emotions with his sapphire glinting in the low lights of the room.

“My love, you need to help me pull the gem out,” you whisper, almost sound scared of him, or scared of what you might see.

“No, it is an unbecoming sight—”

“Nothing about you is unbecoming. You are the most beautiful man I have ever laid my eyes on, and for you and your suffering, I begged my grandma to allow me to study about your condition with the Maesters,” you lean to kiss the bridge of his nose, “the skin around your eyesocket is swollen, if we do not pull it out now, it shall make it more unbearable for you.”

He hesitates for a moment. While he would love to ask you about why you studied something so gruesome because of him, he can’t help but feel so wanted. The pain is getting worse, sure, he has to pull the gem out anyway but to hear you say how you have begged Rhaenys to let you partake in those classes, to maybe someday help him with his pain… that truly makes him feel fuzzy all over.

“Alright…” he whispers, gritting his teeth in pain as he reaches out with his fingers to grab the side of the gem, pulling it out slowly while he groans and the pain nearly knocks him out. “Shouldn’t we use something more—” “Take it out, take it out—I don’t care how!”

You nod, tears falling from your eyes as you watch him writhe in pain more as the two of you pull his sapphire out, leaving a heavily swollen and empty eyesocket on display. His hand falls limp on the bed while you drop the gem into a clean bowl before pouring some of the ointment on a rag, gently holding his face in one hand while the other daps slowly over the scar and his ripped eyelids, pressing a few kisses here and there to soothe his whimpering.

He clings to your arms and waist tightly, letting his tears fall freely while you soothe his pain away, falling into slumber easily beneath your gentle touch.

•••••••••••

He is running.

Where is he? Why is he running?

He looks around him, finding himself in the labyrinth he always sees in his dreams.

The hedges are covered in ivy, the walls have gotten taller and the paths are thinner.

What’s this smell?

He steps closer to the source of it, taking different routes until the smell gets worse and stronger. He knows where the center of the maze is, he has been here countless times.

He turns around, finding the space of the labyrinth of his dream, but he doesn’t expect to see you there, not while standing with your nightshift covered in maroon, hands dripping with thick droplets of blood as you look at him horrifyingly.

“Darling, are you alright?”

“Don’t- don’t come closer,” you say, taking a step away from him.

“I don’t understand, why—” “You did this to me!” screaming at him, your hands cover your heart, and he finally sees how your chest has been ripped open and blood gushes out of the wound.

“I was not here—”

“You did this to me! You hurt me, Aemond!”

“Aemond!”

“Aemond!”...

He jolts up, gasping for air, hands clutching the bedsheets as he experiences another nightmare. He looks at you, finding you awake and alarmed while you rub his back, eyes filled with worry and pain for him.

“You should leave,” his voice is barely above whispering, his nails digging into the palms of his hand while he blinks his tears away.

“Aemond—” “I will only hurt you, why don’t you understand?!” he asks, raising his voice a little. 

He is torn between needing you to wishing you were gone; he can’t cope if he ever hurts you again.

“You have not hurt me, you won’t hurt me.” “I killed you in my dream! You fell in front of everyone and twisted your ankle because of me, I humiliated you! How can you say I won’t fucking hurt you? I have already done it.” He explains, but instead of pushing you away, he welcomes you when you pull him down into your embrace, holding his head tightly in your neck as he sobs uncontrollably.

“It’s not your fault, I should have been more careful. I won’t let you ruin yourself for something that was a mistake on my behalf.” you kiss the side of his face, rocking him from side to side while he calms down eventually.

“Don’t push me away, I love you, Aemond. Let me be here and help you carry this heavy pain with you.”

He doesn’t reply, but his arms tighten around you.

He looks at how you lay back on the pillows, gently pulling him in your arms until he is lying in your chest while you play with his hair.

“Sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

•••••••••••

He opens his eye slowly when he feels someone caressing his hair, pressing butterfly kisses all over his face. Smiling a little, he finds you admiring him in his sleep, taking notes of every line and deep of his skin.

“It’s very rude to stare,” he says, his voice thick and raspy from all the crying he did last night.

“Not when he is my lover,” you whisper back, nuzzling your nose against his, “you look like a fairy when you sleep.”

“No one has ever told me that. How do you come up with such unique ways to describe me?” He leans over, pressing a kiss on your shoulder while he waits for you to answer.

“You are a wonderful muse for poetry, I shall start writing about your hair and eye!”

He keeps his lips sealed to your skin, sucking and nibbling until he is satisfied with the marks he has left. His pupil is blown out with a newfound lust; how can he not desire you when you are lying in his arms with your wild white hair plastered over his pillows?

“You are staring,” he chuckles at how breathless you sound. He hasn’t even begun to do anything and he already has you melting under his touch.

“Can you blame me? I have the most exquisite lady of the realm in my bed.”

“What happened to the insecure boy I held last night?” You ask while leaning up towards him, pushing him down on his back so you can straddle his narrow hips.

“It’s still here with us in this room, but he has begun to heal. You have helped him when he had no one,” his palms rest on your thighs.

“I need you,” it comes more as a plea, but Aemond obliges and flips the two of you over, hiding his face in your neck to prep it with kisses while he whispers that he needs you too.

“I love you, darling,” he whispers, craning his neck to catch your lips in a kiss, moving them together with a rhythm that encourages him to take the next step.

His hand inches downward, pushing past the fabric of your underwear to find you already wet for him.

“I-I have already lost my maidenhand…”

“I don’t care, I have you now,”

He silences your whine with another deep kiss, his fingers circling your clit until you are squirming and bucking your hips into his palm, your arms pulling him in by the shoulders.

He breaks the kiss, watching you take a deep breath when he pushes one digit inside while he tugs at the front of your shift, pulling it down until your tits are on display. He covers your chest with marks and bruises the same time another finger enters you, making you gasp loudly in pleasure.

He stretches you on his fingers, thrusting them in and out slowly at first, but soon he is speeding up, his patience running thin as he scissors you open not roughly to make it hurt, but to make sure you are ready to take him.

“A-Aemond, please, need you closer,”

He nods because he too can feel the need to become one with you, to take you as his, or more so you take him as yours.

His breeches are thrown on the floor, followed by his undershirt immediately as he takes home between your spread legs, one hand holding him up while the other guides his throbbing cock to your entrance. You both gasp in union when his tip nudges past your muscles, pushing in slowly and gently until he is sheathed inside you completely.

You throw your head back, wrapping your legs around his waist while your nails dig into his naked chest as he lets you get adjusted to his size.

“Can I move?” He asks, leaning down over you as he cages you beneath him, both of his forearms holding himself up against the pillow under your head.

You nod, looking at him with pleading eyes, and he finally caves in and moves slowly; pulling his hips back a little before driving in.

The next minutes pass by him gently making love to you, circling his hips and kissing you, bringing you closer and closer to your highest point. You know you both are close when his groans and moans grow louder, and your voice matches his tone as he quickenes his pace, the loud sounds of skin slapping against each other echoing in the chambers of the prince.

You both finish together; you with a gasp of his name, and him with a loud groan of yours as he fills you and you gush around him. He trembles above you, whether it is for the climax he experiences or the overwhelming love he holds for you. 

He watches your face twist in pleasure — the pleasure he is giving you — and he memorizes every sound, counting each lash that he can while he himself rides his high with you.

He drops face down on the bed next to you, both of you trying to catch your breath as you look at each other with a satisfied expression on your faces.

“They would ask about our whereabouts if we are late for breakfast.” You say, giggling when he groans in absolute disgust — he is not ready to leave this room and face the world again when he knows he can stay and take you again, thrive in your attention and love for all day.

“Must you ruin this moment for us? Now I can only think about how to face your father after what we did.”

“You should look him in the eye and ask for my hand,” you sit up, throwing the cover off of you before getting off the bed “and you shall do it with the braids I do for you,”

“You are impossible,” he says, but he knows that behind his words, there is no hidden intent, nothing but adoration and playfulness.

“Come, sit!” You pull him off the bed as well, leading him to his vanity before pushing him down on the chair, both of you stark naked as you brush his hair slowly.

He looks at himself in the mirror, and for the first time in years, his reflection doesn’t disgust him, it doesn’t scare him or make him self-conscious. He feels… beautiful, he feels worthy again of having this life, having you as his.

“Do you wish to know what I see when I look at you?” You ask him, letting his soft hair fall around his shoulders before you lean down, wrapping your arms around him, resting your chin on his shoulder.

He nods, hands coming to cover yours where they caress the skin above his heart.

“I see a broken man who needed to be saved. I see a boy, fierce and strong as he claims the largest dragon alive. I see my friend who danced with me in different gatherings, my beloved friend who built sandcastles with me and helped me with my Valyrian studies. I see my Aemond, finally freed from the labyrinth of his mind.”

[etheries1015]

He finds you falling apart; in complete shambles, a sobbing mess.

Malleus

He isn't certain how to handle such strong emotions, he doesn't know what to do when he finds you sobbing in the garden. As the tears fall down your cheeks and you mutter apologies to the fae, All he can do is sit next to you and kindly offer his shoulder and words of comfort, waiting for you to calm down so he may ask what is causing your soul such misery.

He hopes you will communicate what it is he could do to assist you. If a hug is what you need, he shall provide. If silence is what you wish for, he will grant it as such. If you are in dire need of a distraction, he knows a place you will adore while he speaks about its history. He is not the type to simply assume what will help in this situation- he will awkwardly hover until you guide him to the best possible course of action.

You must expect to find new trinkets and shiny objects to come your way for the next week- he wants to make it abundantly clear he wishes for you to smile once more, and he hopes to achieve that by his little gifts.

"My dearest, what causes these tears to flow so heavy from your eyes? Whatever it may be, I shall be by your side and face it with you, for you needn't suffer alone. Now tell me, who do I need to confront for stealing your precious smile away from me?"

Lilia

Lilia had known the ins and outs of emotions fairly well. He could easily read people- you were no exception. He understands immediately if you need a hug, to be left in peace, or to be endlessly pampered. Upon hearing your painful wails of sorrow, he was quick to react.

Any attemps at apologizing to him for your sobs were fallen upon deaf ears. You were quickly chastised for those "sorrys" and were engulfed in his embrace, his hand stroking your hair or rubbing circles on your back gently with a tune of old escaping his lips. He had used this method for his inconsolable children in the past, and he found it just as effective for adults as well.

Even thanking the fae for being there for you was also quickly shut down. He insists that you need not thank or apologize to him for your tears, for you were important to him thus it was a requirement he be there in your time of misery. You felt comfortable talking to him about your woes, the red eyed fae listening intently whilst brewing you tea, setting up video games, or cooking you a meal (you didn't have much of the energy to reject this offer, he was doing it purely out of concern for your being. Crying takes a lot of of someone, he must do his due diligence and be certain you are properly sustained!)

"Ah...it pains me to see such tears. Remember, time moves forward, and you shall prevail past this little bump in the road, my little bat. Would you like to talk to me about it? I give good advice, if I do say so myself! Or shall we change the pace and play some games? I am not moving from this spot until you are smiling and laughing again!"

Kisses, cuddles, and comfort <3

[woncon]

➳ like a rainbow

➶ stray kids ot8 x gn!reader ｡˚ °

-ˏ` ✎﹏ sometimes it just hurts and you need to cry it out. but don't worry, your boyfriends are here to help you through it.

➴ genre: angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end

: ̗̀➛ warnings: crying, emotional pain

⌨ :: 1.2K words ♡ ︵ . .

⁀➷ i had a sobbing afternoon the other day. i wrote this as a therapy session, and now I'm dedicating this to all the dear Stays who need it! <3

⁀➷ thanks to @wonsheep for helping me fix my grammar mistakes and for giving me advice how to convert a whole story into another language precisely °♡̷•.

➳ stray kids masterlist | main masterlist

You retire to the bedroom. You don't even bother to close the door. You just throw yourself on the bed, and the tears are already flowing. You curl up in a ball and let your heartache take its course.

Today seems to be one of those days.

A day for crying.

You're too weak to get up. You're too tired to think. You’re just hurting and you let it hurt. Maybe if you use up all your tears, it'll be easier.

Maybe.

You embrace your body. Your shoulder shakes. Your whole being gives way to desperate cries. You close your eyes because you see nothing but your own tears, endless. Your heart is pounding loud, crumpled in its cave.

You don't even hear when someone enters the room.

Chan calls you by name, softly and quietly, but as soon as he realizes you aren't sleeping, but instead hiccupping from sobs, he is not subtle, he repeats your name in terror and comes to your side.

"What happened? Who hurt you?" He grabs your face. "My baby? Baby, talk to me. What hurts?"

You cuddle up to him, bury your head in his chest and shake it. You can't talk about this now. You have no words now, only tears, but you cling to Chan's body to let him know that even if you can't articulate it, you need him here. So you don't dig your fingers into the fabric of your sweater, but hold Chan close to you.

Meanwhile Chan is stroking your back, rocking you slowly, trying to soothe you with his kind words, you are still crying bitterly, your own chest unable to suppress the grief that is welling up inside you.

Soon Felix sticks his head into the room. His incomprehension quickly gives way to worry. His eyes widen, his mouth clenches helplessly, and every bitter sound you make creates another crack in his heart. He wants to climb on the bed, cuddle up to you, touch you reassuringly, hoping that his touch, his presence, will go some way to soothe your suffering.

But before he can do that, Chan whispers something to him. Felix doesn't understand at first. He shakes his head.

"Blanket. Hot chocolate. Music. Netflix. Dori," repeats Chan.

Felix nods vigorously, and heads out of the room to hand out tasks to the others. Everyone is committed when they find out how bad of an emotional state you are in. They are eager to do something to cheer you up, if only a little.

Seungmin looks for your favorite blanket. Felix makes the hot chocolate while Hyunjin roasts marshmallows. Jisung and Jeongin take care of the music, one brings the speakers from Chan's studio, the other your favorite playlist. Changbin's forearm disappears into the sofa as he searches for the remote control. Minho lures Dori into his lap to bring him to you.

When their duties are done, they all go to the bedroom and shower you with their kindness. You crawl out the cover of Chan's chest and sit up. You are so struck by all these hopeful faces and loving little things that for a moment you completely forget the pain you have felt, and the mere purpose of your existence is the vibrant gratitude you feel for them. A visceral gratitude for their kindness and love.

"See, little one?" Chan says with a half smile as your boyfriends flood the bed. "You are not alone. You are never alone. If you need it, you can cry on everyone's shoulder because we're here to take care of you."

Chan pulls out a tissue from his trousers and hands it over. You blow your nose. Seungmin spreads the blanket on your legs. Jisung turns on the speaker, then puts it on the nightstand. Jeongin starts the music, and the bedroom fills with rippling melodies instead of your inconsolable crying noises.

"Here." You get the hot chocolate in your hand from Felix. 

As you sip the sweet drink and eat the marshmallows, you feel warm inside. Your tears slowly dry up. 

You feel safe in the ring of your boyfriends on your huge bed as they quietly watch and listen to your wishes and reactions. They do their best to make you feel better, and their efforts alone make you feel better. By being here, being with you, and wanting to help, you know that no matter how much it hurts, they will try so hard to make you not suffer. They will listen or silently embrace you, whatever you need, they will want to give it to you, but they won't let you wallow alone, helpless.

Felix clears the empty mug up with a broad smile. As soon as your hand is empty, Minho immediately puts Dori in your lap. The cat instantly curls up on your blanket-clad thigh, settling into regal comfort.

At times, Dori specifically likes to be around those who aren't exactly in a good mood. He makes it almost a mission to cheer them up. Even now, as you run your fingers through his fur and he purrs contentedly, it's enough to bring a small smile to your tear-streaked face.

"You're like a rainbow now," whispers Hyunjin. You look at him. His eyes are bright with wonder, lips slightly parted. "Your tears fall, but your smile shines. Your face is a rainbow."

Embarrassed, you wipe away the remaining tears with the sleeve of your sweater before they dry completely on your face.

"Thank you," you say. "For taking care of me."

"Of course, beauty. We love you," replies Changbin, handing over the remote. You hold it with the hand you're not using to stroke Dori's soft fur. "We love you so much, you can choose the movie. If you want."

"But we can do other things if you feel like it," Felix adds, caressing your hand. "Anything that makes you happy."

"It's nice like this. Can we stay a little longer here?"

Everyone nods.

You scratch the base of Dori's ear.

"Thank you, really," you whisper emotionally.

"No need to thank us." Much to your surprise, Minho is lying down on your other side, resting his head on your shoulder and sliding up. You put the remote next to Dori and stroke Minho's hair with your free hand, and it seems as if he purrs too. You enjoy that this time you don't have to fight with his tsundere self to get him to cuddle up to you. 

Then your hand is snatched out by Hyunjin, who settles down behind Minho. He plays with it, drawing little hearts on your palm.

“Grandpa, space please!" Seungmin pushes Chan aside so that he can lie at your side. Chan snorts, Minho giggles and you smile.

"My seat's taken," Jisung snorts sadly, nudging Dori, who's sprawled on your stomach.

"You have other seats, Sung," Seungmin mutters, who no longer has such a problem because he's found his place next to you.

“Right!" Jisung gets excited. In the next moment, he leaps at Minho, who moans angrily for a second, but lets Jisung sprawl out and nestle on top of him.

Chan, Jeongin, Changbin and Felix form the other pile. 

You wish you had eight arms like an octopus to touch them all and pull them to you. And then Jeongin smiles sweetly at you, Changbin looks at you lovingly, and you understand that you don't need eight arms, because they are all in your heart, as you are in theirs, be at arm's length, cities or continents apart.

[megxplryxb]

Someone to Save You

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mostly fluff, slight mention of death (Billy), mention of violence (evil Russians), no use of y/n, set in Season 3.

Notes: Short fic that’s been unfinished in my drafts for far too long and I got tired of seeing it sitting there judging me.

"I guess we're gonna have to find new jobs now huh?" Robin laughs anxiously, brows raised, eyes wide as she tries her best to lighten the mood while you both sit in the back of an ambulance watching on as Hawkins finest attempt to extinguish the flames currently engulfing what remains of the Starcourt mall. It was clear the two of you were still visibly shaken up, trying to come to terms with everything that had happened in the last twenty four hours and a part of you wondered if you were still tripping from the drugs you’d been injected with earlier because there was no way you had actually fought a monster like creature from another dimension back in the food court, let alone gotten kidnapped and held hostage by an army of Russian soldiers.

The sound of sirens echoing throughout the parking lot made you wince as your head pounded in agony from the beating you’d taken at the hands of the guards during their unsuccessful interrogation of yourself and Steve. Looking down to inspect yourself, you see your Scoops uniform covered in blood and vomit, your legs and arms covered in cuts and bruises and the bottom of your lip split wide open, making you wonder how the fuck you had actually managed to make it out in one piece.

It was only supposed to be for fun, trying to translate that stupid Russian code. Something to do to pass the time during your shifts at Scoops Ahoy, a form of entertainment in between having to serve bratty children and stuck up parents their ice cream. It wasn’t meant to end up with you and Steve being beaten to a bloody pulp or with the mall burning down and it certainly wasn’t meant to end with the death of Billy Hargrove. Unfortunately, there was much more going on beneath the surface of Hawkins, Indiana than you could have ever imagined and somehow you’d managed to get yourself directly caught in the crossfire.

"Yeah, it looks like it." You eventually mutter, not really listening to your friend as she rambles on about how the government was going to cover all of this up, long zoned out, too focused on your handsome coworker to care about any cover up story.

Your eyes had been glued to Steve Harrington since the paramedics helped him to another ambulance across the lot to get checked out. Dustin Henderson was standing by his side as always, refusing to leave his friend and hero alone. His face and presumably his body were badly battered after the punishment he had taken during your time in the Russian base, trying his best to protect you and keep you safe. Steve had pleaded with the guards to let you go, promising he’d tell them everything they wanted to know once they guaranteed your safety but you refused to abandon him and in the end, you both suffered the consequences until Robin, Erica and Dustin had come to your eventual rescue.

Watching Steve get knocked unconscious had absolutely terrified you. His lifeless body unresponsive on the floor as you screamed for him to wake up, to move, to do anything just to let you know he was alive. When he finally came to, you wrapped yourself around him, sobbing uncontrollably into his chest with relief when he mumbled that he was ‘ok’, even managing to tease you for being a blubbering mess over him when you always claimed to hate him.

It was true, you did hate him back in High School. Couldn’t stand him or his shitty friends and the way they believed they were actual fucking royalty. But then you graduated, hoping to forget the trauma of Hawkins High, got a job working in Scoops Ahoy and to your utter horror, Steve Harrington was behind the counter wearing a god damn sailor outfit that didn’t even fit him right. Of course, Robin tried to tell you that things were different now, that he wasn’t the same asshole from school. His ‘King’ title long relinquished and his trust fund completely confiscated and in your eyes, it was karma and karma was a bitch. Admittedly, you were also a bitch, refusing to believe he’d actually changed his ways, giving the cold shoulder, throwing a harsh comment whenever the opportunity presented itself. It’s not like he didn’t deserve it and Steve too gave just as good as he got, annoying you on a daily basis, ruining every possible chance you had of a date when someone tried to ask you out, spilling ice cream on your uniform and just making a total nuisance of himself around you.

It’s only when his Dad arrived into the parlour one evening to collect him that you really felt sorry for Steve. His BMW had been in the garage and his Dad walked in, tossing him some clothes to change into before he left the mall, not wanting anyone to see his son “looking like an idiot”. You don’t know why seeing Steve being ridiculed and humiliated by his own Father mad you angry but it did. You could still remember the look on Steve’s face when it happened and a part of you wanted to defend him, to pull him into you and hug him but that would have been weird back then. So you decided to give him a break after that night, finally getting to know him after a longer than usual shift, both of you stuck cleaning up after a birthday party and you realised Robin was right. He had changed. He was kind and sweet and somehow he had six kids who absolutely adored him and the longer you were around him, you couldn’t help but start to adore him too.

“It’s okay to admit that you care about him, y’know?” Robin whispers, nudging your shoulder, shaking you from your thoughts of Steve. “Dingus is a good guy and it’s pretty obvious he cares a lot about you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Robin.” You laugh dismissively, trying to avoid the conversation completely because maybe you weren’t fully ready to admit your feelings to yourself yet.

“Oh please! You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re totally into each other.” She states but you shake your head defensively, hoping it was too dark for her to see the tints of pink on your cheeks.

“No, it’s not like that. I mean, Steve could barely stand to be around me a couple of weeks ago. There’s no way he has actual feelings for me.” You assert but it does little to dissuade Robin who’s had a front row seat to your constant bickering over the last couple of months and while it seemed like you both truly despised each other at the beginning, it became clear to her that you and Steve were hiding behind your real feelings and the last few days only made it all the more obvious.

“Come on, I’ve seen the way he looks at you, the way he gets totally jealous every time Jason Carver comes in to flirt with you. He tries to act like he doesn’t care but his face gives him away every time. Not to mention how happy he was when you fell asleep on his shoulder in that damn elevator, poor guy couldn’t stop gazing at you.” She chuckles as Erica walks towards you both.

“You’re talking about Harrington right? Dustin said he’s totally in love with you and since I’ve spent the last twenty four hours stuck with your insane asses, I’m inclined to agree with him.” The younger Sinclair smirks, folding her arms. You try your best to ignore them both, reverting your gaze back towards the direction of Steve who’s already looking right at you. Dustin is pointing your way, speaking passionately and although you can’t hear what he’s saying, you assume it’s about you because Steve quickly slaps his hand away before rolling his eyes at the younger boy.

“See?” Robin nudges you again. “He keeps looking over here. Just go talk to him, please? Put us all out of our misery.” She begs, giving you puppy dog eyes as Erica whistles at Dustin to call him over, giving him a small thumbs up as he grins widely and starts to make his way over.

“Why do I feel like I’ve just been set up?” You grit your teeth, glaring at your friends.

“Maybe because you have been.” Robin smiles sweetly, shoving you forward as you begin to walk towards Steve. Your stomach twists as you get closer to the boy, hoping you don’t look as anxious as you feel. If everyone else could tell you had feelings for him, wasn’t it likely he knew too?

“If you came over here to tell me I look like shit, you're too late, Henderson already beat you to it.” Steve jokes, looking at you through his one good eye, the other badly swollen as he holds an ice pack to his face, wincing a little from the cool contact.

“Relax Harrington, you’re still annoyingly pretty. I just wanted to make sure you were doing ok.” You say, taking a seat beside him on the edge of the ambulance as he scoots over for you. "Besides, it’s not like I can talk right now, I'm sure I don’t look much better.” You sigh as he scans the injuries on your face, hating himself for getting you caught up in all of this mess.

“Nah, don’t worry. You’re still beautiful .” He smirks, his bruised face still achingly gorgeous in the night sky as you both lock eyes, sitting in silence for a moment before you finally remember to breathe.

Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington had just called you beautiful. You— the girl he once claimed to hate. The girl that used to drive him utterly insane in High School. Shit, in the few short months you’ve worked in Scoops Ahoy with Steve, you’ve heard him use many terms when talking about other girls, ‘hot’ ‘cute’ ‘pretty’ but he’d never used the word beautiful. Did he really think you were beautiful?

“I think you’re still high, Steve.” You blush, placing a strand of hair behind your ear as he shakes his head.

“No. For the first time in a while, I think I’m seeing things pretty clearly actually.” He affirms, too confidently for a guy who looks like he’s just gone ten rounds with Muhammad Ali.

“I’m not sure how that’s possible when you can’t see out of one eye right now but okay.” You giggle and he laughs with you.

“Come on, you know what I mean.” He playfully bumps your shoulder to grab your focus. His caramel eyes moving to your lips before looking back at you again and suddenly there’s a familiar tension in the air between you that you’ve refused to acknowledge before.

“Do I?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper as you take the ice pack from him, holding it to the side of his face soothingly.

“God I hope so.” He breathes out, lifting his hand to cover yours. You can sense that he’s nervous and you almost want to laugh at how insane this all seems. The thought of Steve Harrington being nervous because of you would have been comical a couple of months ago but here you are, wanting nothing more than for him to kiss you stupid.

“I’m really fucking sorry for getting you guys mixed up in all of this.” He mutters, a guilty look across his face as he lowers his head.

“Hey, no. None of this is your fault Steve. Nobody could have known what was going to happen.” You try to comfort him but he can’t help feel slightly responsible.

“No, I should have known the reason those Russian’s came to Hawkins. I should have known that thing was back. God I’m so stupid!” He spits with anger in his voice, throwing his head back.

“You’re not stupid Steve.” You say softly, gently placing your hand on his thigh.

“Come on honey, you can say it, s’not like I don’t already know.” He half laughs and you hate that he thinks of himself that way, that he thinks you think of him that way.

“I don’t think that Steve, I never thought that. An asshole? Yes. Selfish? Hell yes. But not stupid, never stupid and after actually getting to know you—the real you and not the person you pretended to be in High School, I can safely say I was wrong about who I thought you were.” You admit, finally finding the courage to reach for his hand and intertwining your fingers with his.

“Oh yeah? What changed your mind hmm?” He asks, grinning as he turns his body fully towards you, rubbing his thumb over the delicate skin of your knuckles.

“I’m not sure really, maybe seeing how good of a babysitter you are, how protective you are of all your kids. That might have had a little something to do with it.” You tease as he chuckles with you. “Only a little huh?”

“Well, it might also have something to do with you saving my life. Trying to sacrifice yourself so they’d let me go. That was really brave Steve.” You whisper, trying to stop yourself from getting choked up.

“And it was really stupid of you to refuse.” Steve replies, immediately wiping away the tear he can see trailing down your cheek.

“Hey, if we go down, then we go down together. That’s the Scoops Ahoy! policy remember?” You remind him as he shakes his head at you, cupping your face, caressing the apples of your cheeks. “I don’t know what I’d have done if something bad happened to you. Every time they touched you, every time they even looked at you— god I wanted to fucking kill them.”

“Careful Harrington, it almost sounds like you care about me.” You breathe out, hypnotised by his full pink lips as you realise they’re inching incredibly closer to yours.

“Shit honey, what gave it away?” He smirks at you, finally closing the space between you as his lips gently meet yours in a warm embrace. You can hear the wolf whistles from across the lot, both of you laughing into the kiss as your friends cheer you on and you can’t help feel like a kid playing spin the bottle for the first time.

You eventually break apart when the medic coughs awkwardly, mortified that he’s had to stumble across a make out session as you both try your best to hide your embarrassment, your cheeks flushing bright red.

“Alright Mr Harrington, from what I can see, it looks like you’ve got a bit of a concussion there. I know you mentioned your parents are currently out of town so I think it might be best if we keep you in overnight at the hospital tonight.” The man says as you watch Steve sigh heavily.

“I’m sure I’ll be ok by myself, I’m not really the biggest fan of hospitals sir.” He admits, swallowing hard and you can’t help but be mad at his parents for once again being absent when he needed them.

“I’m really not comfortable with you being alone tonight Mr Harrington, I’d rather you come—“

“He won’t be alone. He can come stay with me, I’ll look after him.” You interrupt, taking Steve’s hand in yours, squeezing it reassuringly. His head turns to you immediately, eyes glossy and mouth open in awe of your kindness, he feels like his heart is going to explode.

“Are, are you sure?” He mumbles, blushing as you kiss him on the cheek.

“Of course I’m sure, I owe you for saving my life. Maybe it’s time, you let someone save you.”

[lialacleaf]

To Care For A Woman

Chapter 2

Simon Riley X Reader

Summary: You join the army as a last-ditch effort to avoid destitution, but when you sustain an injury protecting Lieutenant Ghost and earn yourself a medical discharge, you're stuck all over again. Or maybe not...

Warnings: Tension, Simon wants to care for you, small reader, a little bit spicy but not NSFW, man worrying about a woman's safety, typical cannon violence, deception, I'm sorry it's unedited...

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Reader POV

You were swimming in a deep pool of black, waves of some syrupy feeling caressing your mind, interrupted by the occasional pinch or sting. You felt the black ebbing away, replaced by the metallic smell of blood and the sting of bright lights in your eyes. You let out a sharp whine as the pinch became an agonizing, burning pain in your left knee.

A choked sob followed as you slowly regained your awareness. You were laying in a hospital bed, and a medic was carefully redressing your injured leg.

“Where’s Lieutenant Ghost?” You asked, remembering how he’d been shot down aiding you in your escape.

“Busy. Said he’d come by once you were awake to deliver the news.”

Your brow furrowed. The news? What could that possibly mean? You couldn’t be in trouble for the mission having gone bad. Your lip trembled as the medic finished their work and left.

Maybe Ghost had been right to leave you out of missions before. The pain in your leg was agonizing, and you wanted to curl into a ball and cry. You were all alone in a place you didn’t belong, and you were suffering, but all you could feel was anger at yourself. Anger that you just weren't good enough for the job.

A small part of you wanted to call home, but you couldn’t bare the thought of putting anymore stress on your parent’s shoulders.

You felt helpless, more so than usual, and you couldn’t stop the shaking in your hands. A knock sounded, drawing a shaky gasp from you lips.

You felt you shoulders tremble as the imposing figure of your Lieutenant quietly slipped into the room.

Ghost crossed his arms over his chest, his muscles straining against the black sweatshirt he wore. He simply stared at you through the holes in his mask, not saying a word.

You felt a shudder run down your spine as he took a step closer, holding out a tan folder to you.

“What’s this?” You asked, your hands trembling as you reached for it.

“Your discharge paperwork,” he answered curtly.

“From the hospital?” You asked, your voice wavering.

“From the 141.”

Your stomach dropped. “No,” you pleaded, voice wavering. “No, Ghost…please, no,” you begged, fighting back the tears threatening to run down your cheeks and expose the turmoil of your heart.

“This isn’t up for discussion,” he said sternly as you opened the file. “Have it signed by the end of the day-“

“It wasn’t my fault!” you interrupted, your lip quivering. “I did everything right! Please, you can’t do this to me.”

“This isn’t about the mission,” he stated gruffly. “This is about your injuries. You’ll be lucky to walk on that leg again. You’re unfit for duty.” His eyes bore into you with an intensity that made you shudder.

“You don’t understand, I don’t have anywhere to go. I can do other things, work in the office, do paperwork-“

“I’ve already spoken with Price. You don’t have high enough clearance for that,” he stated softly. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy for you. You both did. You were just a rookie. You’re pension would be little to nothing, and your injury would make it even harder for you to find a way to support yourself.

Ghost watched carefully as you took a shallow breath, a few stray tears sliding down your cheeks. “Are you happy now?” You asked with a thick swallow. “I know you didn’t want me here in the first place,” you accused.

It didn’t matter that you had saved his life, and quite possibly sacrificed any quality your own would have had otherwise. “You should have just left me there,” you whispered, and Ghost stiffened.

Silence hung in the air and your throat burned as you tried not to burst into tears.

“I’ll work somethin’ out for you,” he said gruffly, as if he was uncomfortable making you such a promise.

“You said Price made his decision-“

“I’ll work somethin’ else out,” he clarified. “Get those papers signed,” he said, turning on his heel and leaving you to shake your head and quietly sob into you hand.

~

Simon’s POV

He couldn’t watch you cry. The idea of your little sobs took him right back to that night that he thought he was going to watch you bleed out on the way to the hospital.

He’d considered yelling at you for what you had done, but then his mother’s frightened face flashed in his mind, and his stomach dropped. He didn’t want to be his father, didn’t want to be the man that made a helpless woman cry or feel fear from his presence. He wanted to make sure you never had to cry ever again, and he was about to do everything in his power to make sure you were safe and sound.

“You’re bloody mad, Simon,” Johnny said as he looked at the piece of paper he’d had prepared that afternoon. “Hope it works out.”

He hoped so too. More than he was willing to verbally admit to the Scotsman.

If you didn’t agree to it, there was nothing more he could do to help you. But he wasn’t going to let you just slip through his fingers without trying.

Reader’s POV

You cried for every medic that walked into your room, despite telling yourself over and over again that you wouldn’t. Something about watching them tend to your leg made the situation too real.

It was lonely in the hospital room, and the hum of the air conditioner was starting to give you a headache. Or maybe that was from all the crying you’d done.

A small part of you was scolding yourself for wasting time being emotional when what you really needed to be doing was making a plan. You needed to figure out your next steps before the hospital politely kicked you off base.

You couldn’t even walk, and there would be no one to care for you during your recovery. How the hell were you supposed to survive?

He didn’t even knock before entering, and you were quick to wipe your checks as Ghost approached your bed at a steady pace, another damn tan folder in his hands.

“More bad news?” You asked bitterly.

He let out a deep chuckle in response. “Depends on how you look at it.” His accent was thick, and you couldn’t help but catch the tinge of nervousness in his voice. It had to be bad for Ghost to be rattled.

“I’ve got a…friend, and he’s willing to help you out.”

He placed the folder gently in your lap and flipped it open. You felt your chest tighten and your eyes narrowed in confusion.

A marriage certificate. It was a marriage certificate with your name on it. “What is this?” you asked.

“A way out.”

“Really?” you asked incredulously. “Cause it seems like a nasty joke! Who the hell even is Simon Riley?”

“Does it matter? He’s agreed to take care of you,” Ghost muttered.

Indeed he had. His portion of the certificate was signed and dated. “In return for what?” You asked bitterly, voice thick with emotion.

Ghost clicked his tongue softly and sighed. “I wouldn’t send you somewhere potentially unsafe,” he assured you, brown eyes boring into you as he tilted his head to the side.

“I have a feeling you’d send me anywhere if it meant you never had to see me again.”

You could tell he was frowning at you under that mask, and you swallowed thickly. He’d never exactly been kind to you, but not unkind either. He’d simply excluded you, making it harder to have anyone on your side.

“You got another option I don’t know about?” He asked, holding a ballpoint pen out to you expectantly.

You stared at the object for a moment, feeling your lip begin to quiver again. No. Not in front of him. You snatched the pen from his grasp and hastily scribbled your name down, sucking in a deep breath as you did so.

“Atta’ girl,” he praised, patting you on the shoulder. You handed him the paperwork without meeting his gaze. He must have thought you to be a sell-out, that you were pathetic. Maybe you were. You just hoped you hadn’t made a terrible mistake with this Simon Riley.

AN: well, well, well. I hope you’re all on the edge of your seats! Thank you to everyone that has been interacting so far, I can’t explain how much that means to me! Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the tag list! Thank You!

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Gosh, I think that's everyone. I think some of y'all have settings that didn't allow me to tag you so I apologize if you don't get a notification. I did my best. Also, my dyslexia had a helluva time with some of the names XD Love you guys! Thanks again for your support! &lt;3

[myosotisa]

Eddie walks in on you crying and he is immediately dropping to his knees.

Maybe you'd try to hide it. You don't like to show intense emotion like that, especially not in front of other people. Maybe it's been building for a long time and you just break without warning.

You're sitting at your desk with your face tucked into your shirt, tears streaming, hiccuping gasps, mouth contorted in a silent sob. Willing it to stop, to get back in control, for the sorrow to remove it's claws from your chest and let you breathe again.

Eddie edges the door open with his foot, about to bust in and shower you with affection, but the moment he sees you, hears your small cries, everything stops. He's across the room and to your side in 3 long-legged steps, dropping to his knees with his hands hovering, torn between wanting to grab you and tuck you into him and wanting to respect any space you need.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong? Are you hurt?" His concern just makes you cry harder, hiding further into the neck of your shirt, back bending as you try to curl in on yourself. Eddie's heart breaks, his hands curling into tight fists as he battles his own indecision on what to do. "Baby, please talk to me. Can I hold you? Please."

Despite everything in your brain just wanting to be alone, to suffer in silence, to not show this side of yourself -- your heart wins out. You drop the curtain of cotton hiding your ruddy and wet face from him and reach out like a child. It makes you feel like one. But Eddie doesn't hesitate. He drags you out of your chair and onto the floor with him, tucking as much of yourself into him as he can. Arms wrapped around, thighs under yours, shaggy hair making a new curtain to protect your vulnerability from anyone other than him.

He covers you with warmth and care like a fiberglass blanket over a fracturing fire and it breaks you to pieces. Sorrow for yourself, for how you're feeling, for how hard it is to accept this comfort, for how much it means to you to finally have it now. For how willingly and readily Eddie was prepared to give it.

He holds you as you cry, whispering sweet things into your hairline like, "It's gonna be okay, baby, I've got you. I'm here." Rubs your back in little circles, presses his fingertips tighter when you cry out louder as the waves crash over you. He keeps holding you as your crying starts to die down into little sniffles, as your breathing evens out. He doesn't let go until you start to pull away, and even then it's with reluctance.

The moment he can see your face again he's cupping it in his big palms, eyes searching yours to see if he can find what is hurting you, slay the dragon that made you feel this way. When you just shakily smile, sniffling again, he presses a kiss to each cheek, to each eyelid, to the tip of your runny nose, to the center of your forehead. And then he drags you into his arms again.

[k0yaz]

that was all that mattered.

Pairings: furina x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, angst—but comfort yay :3, hanahaki disease, graphic descriptions of coughing up blood, GIRLS LOVING GIRLS OH MY GOD???? Not proofread.

A/N: FURINA MY POOKIE WOOKIE CUPCAKE RECIPE WITH RAINBOW SPRINKES ON TOP WHY HAVE I NEVER WRITTEN FOR HER I LOVE FURINA SO MUCH AHAHSHSHDGGDGHSHSHSKWOEI 🕯️

She never wanted to see that sight again.

Furina paced back and forth, the quiet snaps of her shoes with each step she took being the only sound echoing through the empty corridor. She only moved in circles before the large door separating her from your room in which you were recovering, her thoughts clouded with unrest and anxiety regarding your current condition. Closing her eyes, Furina’s back pressed against the wall, slumping down slightly with a shaky sigh as her head tilted back to try and regain some sense of clarity.

It was horrifying. The grotesque sight of bloodstained flower petals cornering your lip whenever a series guttural screams were heard from your room was absolutely mortifying to lay eyes upon, the silk white sheets splattered an oozing crimson. Vision all blurred, your upper body would rock from side to side even while sitting down to keep your balance, your hand cupped below your chin to prevent the blood from spilling any further—yet your efforts were futile once you collapsed back onto the mattress in exhaustion.

The sight of you lying there, blood pooled below your outstretched, frail body wrenched Furina’s chest with sorrow. All she could do was sit there in silence, unable to do anything while you suffered. It tormented her day and night, images of your aching frame clasping a hand over your mouth and being racked by fervent coughs. All she would hear was a string of violent coughing fits, and you trying to desperately stop, often by holding your own breath. However, it would be in vain as they rasped through your throat and spattered stains of blood onto the blanket pulled over your lap.

Yet the worst thing of all, was the revelation that the source of your excruciating suffering was Furina herself. She couldn’t help but bite back a sob once she strolled past your door, overhearing you muttering about how you felt about her to Neuvillette, voice pained as you choked out how she wouldn’t feel the same way. Upon hearing that conversation, Furina only froze in place for a couple moments, before lowering her hat to shield her glassy eyes, and getting herself far away from your room. The moment she was alone, the former hydro archon wept quietly to herself at the revelation, believing she was the one who put you through this hellish pain.

However, she decided to atone on one fateful day, when the sunlight poured in through the parted curtains through the window, and livened the sickly hue of your skin. Your eyelids remained shut, yet you still stirred from the light intruding your eyes, feeling like they were burning into your skull. Awoken by a faint knock, you sat up expectantly as your bleary vision shifted to the woman before you. You attempted to swipe your thumb across the corners of your lips, frantically trying to scratch off the dried blood soiling your face as soon as you recognized Furina.

The second she confessed, every fuzzy sense of yours suddenly shone with a sense of clarity, the world seemingly stopping its rotation for the two of you in that moment. The flowering plant embedded in your lungs felt as if it paused its growth as your brain registered the words “I love you” out loud. All of a sudden, your shoulders lowered themselves in relaxation, chest suddenly feeling lighter as you were able to sit upright to embrace Furina in your arms. You weren’t even close to completely healed, yet the simple contentment of your love being requited ceased the searing pain eating away at your body.

“Lady Furina, you can come in now.”

Furina simply nodded, pushing her way into your room slowly as to not disturb your rest. She breathed out a relieved sigh, seeing your head laid onto the soft pillows as the freshly washed blankets enveloped your body. This time when she came to see you, the sight was much more pleasant to gaze upon compared to last time, the blankets remained an untouched clean white rather than painted red. A few raspy coughs still snuck their way through occasionally, yet it was part of the recovery process as the flowering plant began to decay.

“(Name)?” Furina called out, clearing her throat. “How are you feeling? Any better?”

Your eyes lit up upon seeing Furina approach you, halting at the foot of the bed as to not startle you too much.

“Furina! You’re here!” You exclaimed, clearing your own throat as well to answer her question. “And yeah, I’m feeling a lot more light. I still occasionally have some coughs here and there, but no more blood or flower petals.”

She exhaled softly, bringing her white gloved hand to her forehead. “Thank god…” she breathed out reluctantly. You could practically sense the built up worry in her tone, the sight of you nearing death in such a brutal way had still left a scar in her mind.

“I just..I can’t help but wonder- what if I never said it? What if I was too late?” She choked out, tears brimming the corner of her eyes. She shrank in slightly, folding her arms as her hands rubbed over her elbows periodically. You couldn’t bear the sight of her like this. It wasn’t her fault, and she needed to know that. So as a good girlfriend, you extended your arms, gesturing Furina to come lay on you.

Without hesitation, she collapsed onto your chest. The poor woman was probably in just as much pain emotionally as you were physically from the awful thought of the worst possible outcome of you dying. A mellow sigh left your tinted lips as your fingers weaved through Furina’s hair comfortingly, causing her to only lean further into your touch in response.

“Furi. I’m fine now…there’s no need to worry, okay? I’ll only get better from here on out..”

A weak sniffle left her as she just nodded, hands grasping onto the fabric of your shirt.

“I know. It’s just- that sight hurt so bad to see- and knowing I was the reason for-!”

“You weren’t the reason. You didn’t know.” You interrupted, bringing a hand up to rest on her tear stained cheek. “And besides, since you did confess…now I’m recovering. I’m doing a lot better now in fact..”

Reaching over, you picked up a glass of water between your slippery fingertips, bringing it to your lips with wobbly hands as you gulped the water carefully. Your uncoordinated movements concerned Furina, yet your reassuring expression made her push that thought back. You were healing. That was all that mattered. There was a slight pause in your movements before you let out an exasperated sigh at the empty water pitcher. It wasn’t a big deal, yet it did get annoying to constantly ask for refills when you’re constantly downing glasses of water to soothe your parched throat.

Furina sat up, responding with a contented sigh as she walked over to the bedside table. “I’ll go refill it for you now that I’m here anyway.” She replied, her voice seemingly more relaxed now. You gave a soft hum in response, pulling the cloud like blankets over yourself to remedy the sudden shivers and cold feeling washing over your body. Suddenly, Furina’s heterochromic eyes lit up as if a lightbulb had just popped over her head.

“Oh! Right..I forgot something.” She exclaimed, tilting her chin down as she fumbled through her shirt pocket while you looked in confusion. She has a shirt pocket-?

You blinked in surprise as you were met face to face with a fresh bright blue lakelight lily. Furina bent over slightly into a bow as she presented you with the flower, peeking at you with one eye open as if to see your reaction. A warm, fluffy feeling spread through your body as you graciously accepted the flower from her faintly shaky hand, not being able to help the small giggle that left you at her gentlemanly behavior.

Without another moment of doubt, you set the flower down on the bedside table and cupped Furina’s face, palms caressing her cheeks as you pulled her in nose to nose against you. Both of your eyes closed as you basked in the comfort of Furina’s touch and affection, accepting her love gratefully.

“I love you, Furina.”

A/N: fun fact, my take on hanahaki disease is where it only happens if they believe that their love is unrequited, but the other person actually has feelings for them. This not only makes it seem less forced, but also multiples the angst TENFOLD if the afflicted person ends up dying and the other person has to live with the guilt of not confessing :3

[anundyingfidelity]

WHAT IF...? — Soldier Boy/Ben (3)

Summary: Ben, now as your husband, gives up Vought for good and retires along with you far away from the spotlight and the big cities once you're pregnant with your first child. He knows better than to make the same mistakes his father did.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader

Word count: 1,7k.

Warnings: mentions of miscarriage (this drabble is centered on this basically), heavy angst, hurt/comfort, OOC!Ben and soft!Ben with kid John.

GEN MASTERLIST! — DRABBLES MASTERLIST!

taglist is here!

Part 3

1988

Another sob left your lips. You hugged your legs together, back against the cold bathroom wall as you let all the sorrow and pain wash you away, tears rolling down your cheeks.

It felt heavy on your shoulders, on your back, on your neck… Everywhere, as if someone put a ton of weight on you so you would just be forced to sit down and never get on your feet again. You did not have any strength left, every muscle of your face hurted and your body burned like hell.

Breathing in and out wasn’t helping either. All you wanted was to vanish, let the ground open and then swallow you completely. Or disappearing. Just quitting existence. It would be so much better if no one could remember you, right? You thought about it so many times and you wondered if everything and everyone would be fine with it.

At this point, you didn’t care. You just wanted to run away, from everything and everyone.

But then, the door creaked open and you knew who it was. With eyes shut, embarrassedly crying out your misery to the man kneeling before you, you restrained yourself from looking at him.

You felt his hand, warm and broad, rubbing your shoulder slowly. Ben tested the waters, caressing your tense arms, until he took one of your hands, and you seemed to calm down just a little when he, in a serene silence, wiped the tears away from your face with his thumbs.

“I’m sorry,” you finally said in a broken voice that made his heart shrunk. “I’m sorry for not giving you another child, I’m so sorry…”

Ben pulled you in for a hug, both of you on the cold ground. Your head on his shoulder as he embraced you with his arms against the warmth of his figure. After all the years you spent together with your firstborn and living a normal life, he still had a somewhat hard time processing and expressing his feelings, and even more so, comforting you. But right now he felt all your pain. Every single tear, all your suffering, he was swallowing it too. If he’d be feeling that way, you would be there on his spot, letting him cry out on his shoulder.

When you found out you were pregnant again, you became the happiest he ever saw you. Both of you were so excited since you finally were managing to raise John to be a good kid. Ben was learning new things everyday with the little family you were building, and he loved being a father, so starting again was the best news ever.

But suddenly, complications started and it was painful, both physically and psychologically. Never would you have imagined this was going to happen. You were just about to know if it was a boy or a girl, and then, that moment couldn’t be anymore.

Since then, you felt a part of you dying. Your husband became utterly worried seeing you day after day like this, crying alone in the bathroom at night. He could do nothing but hold you tight. You continued shedding your tears against him, trembling and sobbing, remembering the night it all happened, how fast you had to run to the hospital, and how the news were delivered, how much it fucking hurted…

“I’m sorry,” you sniffed into his neck again, holding onto him.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said softly and moved away a little. Facing you, he cupped your wet cheeks and you slowly opened your swollen eyes. “Look at me, please… It wasn’t your fault, and I still love you.”

His voice was stern and low, but not enough to scare you. He was just trying to get your attention and make you forget all the negative thoughts your mind had put you in.

“Please stop torturing yourself like this.”

He said it almost like a plea, with his green eyes focused on your own that you tried so hard to keep open. Even though the tears couldn’t stop falling, you gave him a small nod.

You tried not blaming yourself, you tried to keep going every day like nothing had happened, burying the pain inside simply because it was too much to handle. You were just so happy to have another child before, and suddenly everything you built up crumbled down in what felt like a couple of seconds…

“Mommy?”

A sleepy little John stood by the doorframe, rubbing his eyes with his fingers and grabbing his teddy bear with the other.

“John, please go to your room,” Ben said almost in a whisper, and you looked away from your son so he couldn’t see you in such a state.

“Is she okay?” John asked again, innocent as a child could be.

Ben gave you a worried look before answering. It was as if you two communicated with your eyes only in tough situations like this. After a moment, you finally nodded and wiped the tears again.

“Go,” you whispered. Ben hesitated, looking between you and his son. “I’ll be fine, go.”

Ben gave you a rather worried last gaze but he did as you told. He walked out the bathroom, grabbing John’s little hand, and he took him back to his bedroom, which wasn’t that far. There, he tried to wrap John with the covers, but his son remained sitting down with big, blue eyes. Ben knew that look on his face.

“Why is mommy crying?” John asked while rubbing his eyes and yawning, hugging the teddy on his arm.

With a silent sigh, Ben sat down on the bed, trying to form an answer. It was the first time John had seen you like this and he had the right to know but he was just a kid. What kind of parent could have the heart to tell his four-year-old son his sibling died before birth?

“Crying is… normal,” Ben mumbled, tacking a messy lock of his blonde hair and putting it behind his ear. “Sometimes you cry when you’re sad, sometimes when you’re angry, sometimes it’s because of happiness… It helps you to release your emotions in a healthy way.”

“Is she sad?” John asked.

Ben nodded, finding his innocence pure and even a little cute. The kid was, by far, better at handling his emotions than his own parents, but that mere fact made Ben even prouder.

“Yeah, she is. But it’s part of life, y’know that, kiddo,” he continued, forming a half smile on his lips, mixed with sadness, grief and the feeling of the bond he was sharing with the little one right now.

John nodded this time, confirming he had understood his explanation. To be fair, John rarely cried now he was growing up, and would speak calmly and try to find answers before exploding. Ben always thought you had done a great job at teaching him how to react smartly. John was doing exactly that right at that moment.

“Daddy, do you cry too?”

John’s question left him speechless for a second as it interrupted his thoughts. The kid’s blue eyes looked directly to his soul, waiting for any kind of response.

“Sometimes…”

“You’re showing your feelings,” John said with a confident nod. “That is okay.”

Ben smiled widely this time, messing with his hair.

“Go to sleep, champ. Is getting late.”

He was about to wrap him up with the soft covers when you slowly showed up by the door. Your husband seemed taken aback at your appearance, but for what he could see you already had washed your face and probably had a glass of water. There were no more tears on your eyes, just the redness of your face after crying for so long and there was a half, tired smile on your lips nonetheless.

“Can I sleep with mommy and daddy?” John said once he noticed you were there. You walked in to take him into your arms, not before kissing his cheek lovingly.

“Of course you can. Right, dad?” you teased back.

Ben gave you a genuinely broad smile.

“Anytime.”

“I'm sorry, Ben-”

“No, stop apologizing. I fucking beg you. Please, stop that.”

His choice of words made you half chuckle.

“It's no one’s fault. This stuff happens,” he continued.

“I know I just- I really wanted another kid,” you mumbled looking at John who was playing with a kite and running around the backyard. You would have to tell John eventually, and it hurted you just the thought of it.

Ben followed your gaze, leaving his empty glass of ice tea on the wooden table. John was your treasure and you had raised him well. He was smiling, laughing, running around like a free soul. That was what Ben ever wanted, and he had given it to his son. The love of a mother, of a father, a cozy home, normal school with kids who happened to be fans of Soldier Boy… Even with all the fuzz after years of his retirement, he managed to have John safe. All his life purposes couldn’t compare to his little brat.

“Don’t you think he’s enough?” Ben broke the silence, turning his gaze toward you sitting by his side on the bench.

“Of course I do!” you replied with wide eyes, sounding a little offended by the question. Ben curved a brow, waiting for you to go on. “Maybe I wanted to have a bunch of babies running around… I told you that, remember? I still would like to-”

You choked with your own words, and Ben took your hand, rubbing your knuckles softly, looking straight into your eyes.

“Y’know, it’s okay. It’s okay if we do. And it’s okay if we don’t.”

You nodded slowly and he cupped your cheek with his palm, bringing you in for a soft kiss on your lips. “Thank you, Ben.”

“Daddy! Daddy, help!” John’s loud voice and him running toward you forced you to separate. Ben even got on his feet when the kid pointed to a tree. The kite was trapped there on a very high branch. Your husband sighed, hands on his hips as John begged for him to rescue his kite before the sunset started.

Looking between them, you let out a giggle and tapped Ben’s arm. “Go be his hero, honey.”

Soldier Boy taglist:

@delaynew @k-slla @thesilmarillionblog @onlyangel-444 @mrsjenniferwinchester 

@daisy-the-quake @jackles010378 @mostlymarvelgirl @deans-spinster-witch @drasticemotions

 @stoneyggirl2 @sapnaploves @believeinthefireflies95 @weaponxgames @lyarr24

@skyesthebomb @thedazzlingburglar @slothbae99 @peachhiz @lorenaloveslewis

@erikaafernns @demodemo909

[glassartpeasants]

How to Love .02

Eustass Kid/Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

Warnings: Angst, self-esteem issues, fluff, semi slow-burn, author writing this at 4am in the morning

A/N: here ya'll go. Sorry if i missed some @ there's just a lot of ya'll

prologue pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

music playlist

~~~

Laying on the couch in Law’s apartment, you couldn’t help but constantly stare at the clock. Watching time go by slowly felt like hell, but there was nothing else you could do. Nothing you had the energy to do. With it being 2:03 am, the whole city was dead, and everyone snuggled in their beds. Dreaming peacefully. Yet here you were, awake and unable to have anything other than nightmares.

Every single night since you caught your boyfriend cheating on you with your best friend, the same nightmare happens. A replay of what you walked into when you went to confront them. You’d wake up from the nightmare, and when you’d go back to sleep, you would be right back into the nightmare. It was almost mentally easier to just stay awake than go to sleep.

But the times when you wanted to sleep, you just couldn’t. You’ve gotten so used to Eustass’s heartbeat as a lullaby to help you sleep that now it's almost impossible to sleep without it. Or how sometimes he’d run his fingers through your hair when he thought you were asleep. Just the small things had such an effect on you that even after knowing what he’d done, it infuriated you.

How dare your heart demand his presence despite it being broken?

You don’t know if Eustass has tried to call or text you. As soon as you entered Law’s car, you blocked him on everything you could think of. It took everything inside you not to leave him unblocked on one thing, just to see what he had to say. Being so in love with him that even seeing the color red reminds you of him. His lipstick and the stains it’d leave behind when he kissed you.  His beautiful red hair and how it was soft to the touch haunted your fingertips. The image of him laying his head on your chest, sleeping as you combed through his hair after a long day.

Your vision grew blurry as tears started to slip from your eyes. Pain and heartbreak fill each tear as it burns along your skin. Curling up in a ball the nest you could, you try your best to provide yourself comfort. You had no one’s shoulder to cry on. The two most influential people in your life betrayed you and left you all alone. You didn’t want to bother Law since he was suffering, too, and you didn’t want to overwhelm him. He already has so much on his plate, working nonstop, the initial betrayal of (.....), and no doubt other things he hasn’t expressed or that you’ve observed. He’s already been kind enough to let you stay at his apartment for a bit until you find someplace. You didn’t want to be even more of a burden by asking him to listen to you sob.

The whole situation was a mess. Never in your life have you felt more alone than you do now. You lay on a friend's couch, trying not to sob and wake them up. You couldn’t turn on the TV to watch something because Law was sleeping, and from what (.....) told you before all this happened, he was a light sleeper. Probably, even closing the refrigerator door would wake him up.

A memory from when you and Eustass would get midnight snacks before watching some sort of show. When grabbing a drink of water, you’d only come back and see him pouting like a child when he awoke to see you not in his arms. You used to love times like those. He was always so cuddly during those times.

“Why the long face, babe?” Setting a foot back into your room after grabbing some water, you return to see your lover with his arms crossed as he sits up to look at you.

“You're not in bed.”

“Yeah, 'cause I was getting water. Am I not allowed to be thirsty?” Giggles leave your lips as you make your way over to your side of the bed. Placing the water glass on your nightstand, you snuggled back under the covers. Not even seconds pass before you feel two hands grab your waist and pull you closer to the man beside you. Your body is wholly trapped as Eustass wraps his arms around you. Burying his face on the top of your head, you hear him let out a contempt sigh.

“I love it when you're all cuddly. It makes me feel so safe when you're next to me.” You feel him placing kisses on your head before making you face up so he can kiss your lips. You can still see the pink on his pale, freckled skin even in the dark. Placing your hands on his cheeks, you rub his cheekbones and look into his eyes. 

“So glad you never gave up, and I’m so glad I said yes.  I’ve never been happier.” As he groans in embarrassment, you begin to plant kisses all over Eustass's face.

“What are you doing?”

“Kissing the places the angels missed. You need to be covered in kisses 'cause I said so.” Eustass hides his face in your neck before kissing it. 

“I love you.” While quiet, you can still hear his confession as he whispers against your skin. 

“Love you more.” You heard him say no before repeating your words. Fake scoffing, you smile as you play his game.

The sound of your sniffling broke through your flashback as reality came back with a punch. Instead of laying in bed with two strong arms wrapped around you, you were sleeping on a couch with your pillow drenched in tears. The roll of toilet paper you stole in place of tissues was almost gone, as the garbage was filled to the brim. Suddenly, the familiar jingle of Bepo’s collar rang through your ears.

“Meow…” Through the darkness, you can see his beautiful while fur rubbing against the couch. You watch him lift his body so his paws are on the cushions before fully jumping onto the couch. The feeling of him lying by your chest made you sniffle yet smile. Moving your arm, you go to pet the animal lying peacefully beside you.

“Guess you know exactly when someone needs you, huh?” The sound of his purring made a shaky sigh leave your lips. The vibrations against your chest calmed you down slightly. But while the harsh tears subsided, the burning pain in your heart stayed the same.

“Why wasn’t I good enough? I did everything right. Is there something wrong with me?” Racking your brain, you struggle to think about Eustass without having the gnawing urge to sob into your pillow.

“Am I ugly? Did he just get sick of me? I don’t understand.” Swallowing the lump in your throat, you feel your fingers twitch. 

“I wanted to marry him Bepo. I imagined the rest of my life with him. I’ve never loved someone as much as I loved him.” As the confession left your lips, the sound of Law’s bedroom door opening made you shut up altogether. Looking at the clock, you see that it’s precisely 4:30am. How time went by so quickly from your sobbing is unknown to you. Quick to rub your eyes, you listen carefully to Law’s footsteps approaching the living room. Despite your heart telling you to stay down and keep quiet, you ignored it and carefully moved your body up to see Law staring at you.

“Jesus Law! I heard you coming, and you still scared the shit outta me!” You hear him let out a small chuckle in the darkness.

“Why are you awake?” Pulling yourself up more, you try to sit up without kicking Bepo off the couch.

When you finally get a better look at Law, your heart skips a beat. There was Law, standing in front of an open window. The moonlight gave him a slight glow. Almost as if he were an angel. You could see a ‘Sora: Warrior of the Sea’ themed shirt hugging his frame along with grey sweatpants. The sound of your heart beating faster made you come back to the present.

“Oh! Well, I guess I’m just so used to sleeping beside someone that sleeping alone is hard. That and some other things.”

“Ah…”

“Also, I didn’t know you liked ‘Sora: Warrior of the Sea’!” Law’s face goes into shock as he looks down and remembers the shirt he wore to bed. A light pink dusted his cheeks, but he was thankful it was just dark enough for you not to see it.

“Oh…yeah.”

“What’s your favorite comic they’ve made? Mines volume 106.”

“You read the comics?”

“Of course! I have the whole collection in that storage garage down the street. It’s in there along with everything else I’ve gathered from my old apartment.”

“I guess my favorite is Volume 200. It’s been a while since I’ve read it, though.”

While you and Law hung out a lot during that semester in college, he wouldn’t have called you a close friend. A friend but not close enough for him to let you stay on his couch. So when he said that you could stay at his apartment the day everything happened, it shocked him when it slipped from his mouth. But now here, a week later, he’s glad he did. While neither of you spoke about the whole situation that had you sleeping on his couch in the first place, knowing he wasn’t totally alone was nice.

Especially when the person liked Sora just as much as he did.

“Do you work today? Is that why you're up so early?”

“Just couldn’t sleep.”

“Ah. Well, do you want to watch a movie? Like a Sora movie? I’m sure we can find one on Netflix or Hulu. We can even make popcorn so we can take our mind off, you know what.” Law stayed silent as he pondered your offer. Even though he’s not really a movie guy, he’s seen every Sora movie at least twice.

“Okay. But I don’t have any popcorn. I don’t like how it gets stuck in my teeth.”

“That’s fine! I think I bought some trail mix if that’s more to your liking. So which movie did you wanna watch? From what I remember, there's Sora: Warrior of the Sea vs. The Dark Depths. Sora-” Law fades out your voice as he feels a spark of joy when he hears you name off all the movies without missing a beat. A smile on your face the entire time you talked about it.

Somehow, even after catching Eustass cheating on you with your best friend, you still had a smile on your face. Yet, he could see the pain behind your eyes if he looked hard enough.

“The third one sounds fine.” Smiling at him, you pat the spot next to you on the couch.

“You need to tell me where you got that shirt. I want one.” Law watches you log into your Hulu account before searching for the movie. 

Sitting down, Law relaxes on the cushion next to you. You grab one of the many blankets you have and hand him one. The warmth of the blanket held from being so close to you slightly soothes Law’s aching heart, if only for a bit.

“Alright! Movie on!” Law catches you, placing the remote between you before you turn your back to him.

“Can’t forget about my little marshmallow Bepo!” Law watched you grab Bepo and hold him close before giving him a little kiss.

“Since when did you two become so close?”

“Since he let me bawl into his fur. What? Jealous?” Law rolled his eyes, seeing you smirk.

“Not long ago, you said he needed a diet.”

“I still stand by that. Now, let’s appreciate the beauty of our favorite hero!” The situation Law found himself in was something he could’ve never foreseen. (.....) wasn’t interested much in Sora, so he never watched them with her or asked her to. But now, here you were with a big smile on your face as you watched his favorite movie with him, an obvious excitement coursing through your body as you hyped up the movie to the cat in your arms.

While Law wasn’t a movie guy, he thought a movie every now and then wouldn’t be so bad as long as it was with you.

~~~

“Thanks for coming to Skypeia Cafe! Have a good day!” Handing the freshly made latte to the lady on the other side of the counter, you receive a wave and a smile before she leaves. As soon as the door closes, you let out a heavy breath. The rush has finally gone down, and it feels like you can finally think straight.

“Don’t pass out on us now (Y/N). We still have the after-school rush.” Rubbing your eyes, you lean against the counter before turning your head to see who’s talking to you.

“Oh. It’s you, Killer. Haha, don’t remind me of it. The worst rush of the day.”

While it was awkward, you managed to get past the unease of working with your ex-boyfriend's best friend. It wasn’t fair to be mean to a man who had nothing to do with your ex-boyfriend's infidelity. Plus, he was pretty funny when he wanted to be.

You’ve known him for much longer before dating Eustass. The two of you have been co-workers from the start of college till now. While this was your only job, Killer worked at the cafe for some extra cash, but his real job was working at the mechanic’s shop about half a mile from your old place. He worked there with Eustass when he wasn’t at the cafe.

He didn’t talk much before Eustass properly introduced the two of you, but he got more talkative as time went on. It was nice talking to him despite everything that’s been going on outside of work—a breath of fresh air.

“How you holding up?”

“Best as I can. Thankful I have a place to stay until I can find another place to live that I can afford.”

“Well, that’s good to hear. Have you heard from Eustass?”

“No. I have him blocked on everything. Have for awhile now.”

“That’s good. You should keep it that way.” An itch formed in your head because of the way Killer responded to you. While it could just be normal advice, you felt like there was more to it.

“Hmm? Is he doing something stupid?”

“You're coping much better than he is, let’s just say.” Killer's words made your brows furrow as you became more dedicated to figuring out what he meant. 

“What? What is he doing?” You hear him suck air through his teeth from behind his mask, and it has unease filling your gut.

“I’m guessing you’ve blocked him on snap too?”

“What is he doing, Killer?” Killer sighs before grabbing his phone from his pocket. You watch him tap on the screen before letting you see the photos on Eustass’s snap story. Looking down at it, you feel your mouth drop as you stare at it closely. 

While you’ve been crying out your soul, that bastard was out partying. It was obvious by the way the picture showed him sucking on a random girl’s face. And another one of him with a girl on his lap. Squinting your eyes, your disturbed to see (.....) being the one sitting on his lap. Only then is when you feel a tear drop onto your hand.

“That bastard, I can’t believe him. It hasn’t even been a full month, and he’s acting like I was some fling. Did I really mean that little to him?” Standing up from the counter, you excuse yourself to the backroom so you can calm down.

“Sorry (Y/N), are you okay?”

“I guess it’s my own fault. I wanted to see the pictures, and I took the risk. It just still hurts—hurts a lot.” You laugh pathetically at your final words, trying to cheer yourself up. 

“You know what? Let’s just continue working and pretend this never happened. Please?” Seeing Killer give you a nod, you let out a relieved sigh. Rubbing the tears from your eyes, you get ready to go back and do your job—just on time, too, as a familiar face walks through the door.

“Law! What a surprise! What brings you here? I thought you worked today.” Seeing your roommate’s face immediately brightened up your mood. You’d never seen him at the cafe before while you were working.

“They were Overstaffed, so they sent me home. I thought I’d come say hi.” Walking up to the counter, you see him looking at the board.

“Well, I appreciate your coming to see me. I just finished with the rush, so take your time.”

“Never been here before. Got any suggestions?”

“My favorite personally is (----), but the refresher Citrus Sunrise is a popular one. I’ve also noticed a lot of doctors like the Vanilla Cloud Cold Brew.”

“Cold brew? And what’s with all the sky names?”

“Well, the theme at the cafe is basically the multiple phases of the sky. But the cold brew is coffee that makes you see doubles. It keeps a person awake for much longer.”

“I’ll get that then.” You couldn’t help the laugh that escapes your throat when he orders.

“Should’ve bet money on it. Might have been a dollar richer.” The chuckle that left Law’s lips made a bigger smile appear on your face. You were thankful that there was a little mercy in the world.

“Ah, Law, haven’t seen you since college, it feels like.”

“Probably. I’ve been busy. How’s life going for you?”

“Good. What about you? How’s doctor life?”

“As good as it can be when the person sleeping on your couch snores.” Killer watches you whip your head around with an offended look on your face.

“I do not snore! Never have I in my life!” A content chuckle comes out from behind Killer's mask as he watches you and Law playfully bicker. It hits him that his place must be where you're staying. He supposes it makes sense. If what Eustass told him was true, then you both would be struggling with your partner's affair.

Before Law came through the cafe doors, he worried about how you were taking the breakout behind closed doors. But watching you and Law interact with one another let him know that you’ll be doing just fine, which might leave a bad taste in someone else's mouth.

~~~

“She’s still staying with Law?! That fucking-AH!” Killer watched as Eustass kicked a lone tire on the ground. It bounced away from them before hitting another tire and stopping. He ran his fingers through his red hair before hitting the wall with the side of his fist. The concrete bricks that made up the mechanic shop's wall stayed put even with how much force Eustass put into the hit.

“Eustass, you have to understand how you sound right now-”

“I know how I sound! Alright?!... I know how I sound.” His voice trails off as he stares at the ground. The burning in his heart feels wrong, as he knows he has no one to blame but himself.

He flew too close to the sun and let his ego get the best of him. Everything he could ever want was in his hands, and yet he still wasn’t satisfied, so he threw it all on the line simply for a circumstantial thrill. And the consequences came crashing all around him like an earthquake.

When you busted open that door, Eustass knew that no amount of bargaining would have you staying to talk to him that day. The heartbroken look on your face continues to haunt him every night. Not a day goes by where he didn’t feel disgust for himself after being the reason tears ran down your face. 

If he could take it back just to have you in his arms again, he’d crawl out from hell itself.

“She’s also seen those party pictures from last Saturday.”

“What?! How’d she see them?!”

“A co-worker showed her. Apparently, she was at the party.” Eustass puts his face in his hands.

“Can’t even drink away my problems without having new ones show up.” Rubbing his face, Eustass lets out a sigh.

“I had it all. Had the girl, the job, all the works, and I managed to fuck it up. Now, no matter what I do, I’ll never get to wake up next to her.”

“If you even want her to look at you in a way that’s not disgust, I suggest you block (.....) if you haven’t already.” Killer watches Eustass sit down on some stacked tires before putting his head in his hands.

“I did that the day (Y/N) found out. Yet somehow, she keeps coming back into my life no matter where I go!”

“There’s always a retraining order?”

“It’s not that bad. It's just extremely aggravating.” The two men remained silent before Killer spoke.

“The best advice I can offer you is get your shit together before even making an attempt on contacting or acting civil with (Y/N).”

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind.”

~~~

When you got home from work, you took a nap and a shower, then decided to go for a walk around Law’s neighborhood. You wanted to get some fresh air and check out some new places. There was a thrift store nearby that you really wanted to check out, so you grabbed your wallet/purse and put on your shoes. Yet before you walked out the door, you called out to Law.

“Hey, Law?” A few sounds of movement come from his bedroom direction before he pops out from behind the wall.

“Something wrong?”

“Oh, nothing’s wrong! I just wondered if you wanted to go thrift shopping with me. We could just hang out, ya know?”

Hearing your offer, Law originally wanted to say no. He wasn’t much of a people person, and going out willingly, which didn’t involve working or getting groceries, was usually a no-go for him. But he supposed it’d be fine. Just for today, to go out.

“Okay.” As soon as the words left his lips, he watched your smile grow and couldn’t help but smile slightly himself. Walking over to the door, he grabs his shoes and coat.

“Meow!” The sound of Bepo’s meow makes the two of you turn your heads.

“Bepo!” Law watched as you picked up his cat and started kissing him. Bepo’s loud purring had you holding him even closer. 

“I’m sorry, baby, but I can’t take you with us. Your dad and I are going out, and we can’t take you with us. I promise to get you something, though!” Giving Bepo one final kiss to his head, you carefully put him down before making movements to leave.

“Say goodbye, Law! Don’t make him sad!” Your teasing made him roll his eyes before he scratched Bepo’s ears and said goodbye as well.

~~~

“Hmm. What do you think about this? I think it’s kinda cute!”

“Do you want my honest opinion?”

“Yes, I do! I think it’d look cute at the apartment!”

“It’s ridiculous. We have a perfectly good honey container at home, which is the bottle it came in.”

“But it’s so cute! I’m trying to liven up the place! Give it a woman’s touch.”

“Our place is fine.” Law’s eyes widen when he realizes what he said. Looking over to see if you caught his slip-up, he is grateful when he sees you looking at another knickknack on the shelf. His heart feels like it is going to jump from his chest. Despite all the chatter the thrift store holds, all he can hear is his own heart.

“Oh my gosh, Law, look! It’s a Sora: Warrior of the Sea mug! We have to get it!” Grabbing the mug, you hold it by its handle and pretend to drink out of it.

“Okay, I found my perfect find. Let’s go.” Just as you turn around, your face to face with a woman with a slight scowl on her face.

“Jeez! You scared me! Can I help you, ma’am?”

“Yes, actually. You see, my son loves Sora. So I was gonna buy him that mug for his tenth birthday. I just needed cash to buy it.”

“But this place takes cards?-”

“So I need you to hand it over so I can give my son his birthday present.” The lady reaches out to grab the mug from your hand, but you pull it away before she can.

“Woah, hey! Sorry, lady, but it’s mine now. It was on the shelf, so that means it’s up for grabs. You could’ve asked them to hold it. Finders keepers.” Was it mean? Perhaps, but you already had your mind set on this mug, and you couldn’t go home without it.

“You're really gonna ruin a child’s birthday over some stupid cup?!”

“First of all, it’s a mug. Second, yes, I am. It’s for someone I care about. And if it’s so stupid, go buy it on Amazon or buy him that Spider-Man cup behind us.” Too busy trying to leave the store and pay, you encase your hand in Law’s and start to drag him away from the lady.

“You really think there’s a child? I don’t think so. I think she wants it for herself.” You start ranting and ignore how your hand is still holding Law’s. Yet Law was overheating with how fast his heart was beating. The warmth of of your hand against his cold one felt unfamiliar, but it was more than welcomed. 

“2.99, please.” The sound of the cash register opening brought Law out of his trance. Once he was back to reality, he also noticed that your hand was no longer in his. Even though it was only in there for a second, the warmth was addicting. While his own hands were freezing, the calming feeling of your fingers intertwined with his own made a light pink spread across his face.

“Thanks, and have a good day.”

“You too! Okay, we can go now.” Motioning Law to fall you, you both head out of the thrift shop. The sun shone down on the two of you as you admired the Sora cup.

“Are you happy with your purchase?” Lay playfully comments when he sees you smile.

“Very, Now here!” Turning your body, you face Law and hold out the mug to him. Your whole face felt like it was on fire, but you pushed through it.

“What?”

“Here! I bought it for you…” With wide eyes, Law looks at you before looking down at the mug. Carefully, he grabs it from your hands and examines it. His heart pounded against his ribs and felt as if it was going to break free.

“For me?”

“Yeah. You’ve been so kind to me during this rough patch that I need to repay you. I know you're probably tired of me thanking you so much, but you really are my knight in shining armor at this time. Expect more gifts in the future, haha.” Putting your hands to your sides, you begin to fiddle with the bottom of your shirt. You watch Law look at the mug in shock before going back to his usual stoic demeanor.

“Thank you. And it’s fine.” There was a seconds silence before you spoke up.

“Well, where should we go next?”

“Going home sounds nice.” Law couldn’t help but roll his eyes at your pout.

“I promised Bepo I’d get him something! I can’t go home empty-handed!”

“I thought you said he needed a diet.”

“He does! I was gonna give him a little toy or perhaps a cat bed!”

“Cats never sleep in cat beds. They rather sleep on top of the fridge than in a bed.”

“Fine! Maybe some clothes.”

“You're not dressing up my cat.”

“I don’t know. Better keep an eye out, Law.” You nudge Law with a smile on your face. Hanging out with him made all the pain disappear, as his presence was calming and gave you hope that you’d be able to get through it all—perhaps even together. 

~~~

@yuki190 @stachelrose @loraleiii @axcel-lucci @st4rfevrr @rexspersonalhell @nanapurinpurin @elen-alambil @starlightkitten19 @bby-deerling @queenofthekill @chaes-tea @emmaiscool22 @shuujin @augustanna @likeliterallywtf @iraaiitz @cherrybomb5000 @lavenderkaye106 @jabean @wrennyx @jamaicaa-blakee @ashortdork @kat2tired @nerdgeekandeverysweet-blog @getsue @kaptain-rebekah @reigenmagnet @rebeccawinters @keenzinemugstudent @mydearlybeloathed @firefistussy @throne-inmyside @littleleelee @thepurpleempath @yuji4lierrr @whodissbitj @slut-for-buck @ihatespidersdie @bluebunny002 @gabi-moureira @blairbellerose @luciledreamz @mrstraffy @yukiyury @lunalovesthe-moon @kenqki

[hippiegoth97]

Random Eddie Thought #3

Life has been kicking my ass lately, so here's a lil something.

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: smut, swearing, crying, angst, stress, fem!reader, no use of y/n, established relationship, kissing, groping, lead up to oral sex

Tags: @keikoraven @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @simp4eddie022 @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafescurtainbangz @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @espressomunson @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive

@voyeurmunson @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever

@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny

@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust

@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore

@mediocredreams @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @ali-r3n

Stress. Such an ugly word. One most try to avoid like the plague. People will try anything to eliminate it from their lives entirely. Meditation, yoga, dietary supplements, exercise, vacations, spa treatments, the list is endless. Anything to knock out what's been long known as the 'silent killer'.

You, on the other hand, typically choose to suffer through it. The headaches, the short temper, neglecting to eat or sleep as much as you should. You punish yourself, letting a bee buzz around angrily in your bonnet for days on end. Until Eddie inevitably has enough and decides to step in.

"That's the fifth time you've sighed in two minutes, sweetheart. What's wrong?" Eddie asks, setting down his book as he's been set back to the top of the page every time you've made the sound.

"Nothing." You sigh again, crossing your arms as you try (and fail) to focus on the sitcom on TV.

"Oh, just some new breathing exercise you're trying out, then?" He jokes poorly, in an attempt to get a smile out of you. But all he receives is a roll of your eyes from the opposite end of the couch. The fact that you aren't all snuggled up to him like usual should've been the first sign. You're in a mood. Eddie closes his book entirely, bouncing down along the couch until his thigh meets yours. "Baby, c'mon. Talk to me." He says, nudging you with his shoulder.

"I'm fine, Eds. Don't worry about it." You reply, not feeling very talkative at the moment. You're tired, and overwhelmed. Life has been feeling extra hard lately, in every respect. Work has been a mess, your boss acting like more of an asshole then usual. Your parents keep getting on your case about moving out, and about 'settling down'. No matter what you say or do, they pretend to hear you out and then say they know what's best. And everywhere you turn, things keep going wrong. You burn your breakfast, your favorite pair of shoes gives out on you, your car won't start, you miss your alarm, you drop your cup of coffee the second after you've poured it. Anything resembling even a minor inconvenience has happened to you in the last week. And it's all been building to a pulsing, frustrating head.

"Angel, I just wanna help you. We've both been so busy this week, I want us to enjoy our weekend together. What's wrong?" Eddie presses, putting a hand on your thigh.

"EVERYTHING! Okay?!" And the tension finally explodes, a slew of lava bursting from your lips. You shout, louder than you ever have before in your life. "Greg has been on my ass about every little thing at the shop! My parents won't leave me the hell alone! And everything else just keeps—" Your breath catches as the fury turns to tears. "...going wrong!" You sob, continuing to babble about all the bad things, though Eddie can barely make out a word.

"Hey, hey..." Eddie coos, gently grabbing the sides of your face as you keep crying and letting out unintelligible sounds. "Baby..." He presses a kiss to your forehead. "Shh, just slow down..." He continues, the feel of his soft lips on your skin gradually relaxing you. Your cries quiet down, though your chest still shudders and thuds in distress. "I'm right here, sweetheart. Not goin' anywhere." He kisses your cheeks, your hands reaching up to lay over his own. Your watery, red eyes meet his gorgeous brown ones, tears rapidly drying on your face. "There's my girl." Eddie smiles, giving you one last kiss on the lips.

"Mm." You melt into him instantly, your hands migrating to tangle in his thick curls. You turn your body towards him, and he effortlessly leads you to lie down. Your head meets one of the lumpy throw pillows, and your legs spread to allow Eddie to slot between them.

"My poor angel. Been workin' so hard, dealing with so much, hm?" He says darkly as his lips part ways from yours.

"Yeah." You nearly whisper, enamored by the lust and adoration in his eyes as he peers down at you.

"Sounds like you need a special kind of stress relief, sweetheart. And I have just the thing." Eddie grins, lowering his head to plant blazing kisses on your neck.

"Eddie..." You sigh blissfully as his teeth and tongue come out to play on your tender flesh.

"My name has never sounded better than it does coming from your pretty lips, baby." He compliments, his hands gently tugging at the hem of your shirt. You lift yourself up a little to let him take it off, revealing your tits to him once it's tossed away. You never wear a bra when you aren't working, much to Eddie's delight. He massages your breasts in his large palms, the chill of his rings making your flesh pebble in excitement.

"Fuck, baby." You moan softly, savoring the way his calloused thumbs rub across your nipples. Your back arches, as if to offer your body to him. He accepts, though not in the way you expect. His mouth meets the valley of your breasts, kissing your skin in the most tender way. He slowly, purposefully travels down toward the waistband of your shorts. Warm presses of his mouth meet every inch along the way, setting a low-burning fire in your belly.

Eddie lifts his head once he meets the thin fabric. "Now, I want you to relax..." He says confidently, pulling your shorts down your thighs to join your top on the floor. He spreads your legs apart, tenting them at the knees. "...and tell me all about what's been bothering you." He positions himself right at your center, finding your beautiful pussy glistening in the low light of his living room. His large hands grip your thighs, and he glances at you one last time with a deep hunger in his pupils. "I'm listening."

[todomochi-uwu]

Who. (2/?) J. Y & S. M

Pairing: Poly! Jeong Yunho x reader x Song Mingi

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: This content is for a mature audience

Synopsis: You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you.

Other chapters: Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕

Yunho kept checking the file in his hands, reading over and over the same words not being able to register anything, his head was all over the place, between the tiredness, the stress and his broken heart, concentrating was proving to be impossible.

“Careful, Jeong. If you think any harder your head might catch on fire.” Said Lee Minho entering the doctor’s launch with an empty coffee mug.

“Piss off, Minho.” He didn't turn his eyes from the paper, determined to make it work no matter how much it took.

Minho’s eyes focused on the taller man in front of him, his skin was paler than normal, a slight blue tint covered it; his eyes were sunk in their sockets, dark purple bags underneath them; lips dry and crusty; he looked thinner, he looked sick. Yunho and Minho weren’t by any means close, they had spent the entire med school fighting for the top spot in their class; Jeong Yunho had proved to be a real pain in the ass, managing to balance school, work, friends and a fucking three-way relationship while Lee Minho could barely sleep and see his, now, husband.

“Not that I care, Jeong but, are you okay?” Said Minho, leaning against the countertop and waiting for the coffee to be done.

Yunho tossed the folder on the table, completely done. He pressed his fingers against his eyelids, trying to calm the blinding headache he had been carrying around his entire shift. “I don’t think it’s any of your business, Lee.”

The cat-eyed doctor shrugged, not wanting to dig any further, he tried. He took his mug and made a beeline straight to the door, but he couldn’t help but look back at his school rival, and what he saw shocked him a bit. His shoulders were slumped, and shaking, his face in between his hands, and small but heavy sobs left his mouth. A suffering Yunho was something he had never expected to see, and while he thought it would bring him joy, it just made him feel weird. He would have to ask Jisung what was going on, he was friends with Mingi, and he would have to know.

______________________________________________________________

Mingi was not doing any better at work. He fell asleep on his desk, barely paid attention at meetings, and was hostile to his co-workers and possible clients. Jongho was done with attitude, he had been patient, as much as he could, and he tried to understand the situation, but it was becoming too much.

“Mingi, I am begging you, please go home, you cannot continue like this. Get some sleep, eat and come back when you are better.” Jongho said as softly as possible, not wanting to trigger another fight with the dirty blonde lawyer in front of him.

“Jongho, I’m okay. I would rather just be working, there’s nothing to do at home anyways.”

“Mingi…” He was interrupted.

“Jongho, I won't repeat myself, leave me alone.” He turned his chair away from the younger lawyer.

That was it. He was done.

Jongho slammed his hand against the desk, startling Mingi, “Listen to me, Mingi, I get that you are sad, okay? I get it. But you cannot come here and act like a fucking dick and expect everyone to be okay with it. We tried to be nice and give you a couple of weeks to recover, but so far, we have lost two important clients because of your attitude and you pissed off three more. I’m sorry she left, but I highly doubt she would come back if she saw the mess you’ve become. Yelling at people, turning work in late, getting drunk, fighting with Yunho, do you think she wants that? Because I highly doubt it.” He jabbed his finger into Mingi’s chest. “Get. Your. Shit. Together.” And with that he left the office, slamming the door on his way out.

Mingi sighed, taking off his tie. He closed his eyes trying to calm down, but it seemed impossible. Anxiety had been tormenting him for almost a month now, and it didn’t seem like it would stop any time soon. He misses you. A lot. He just didn’t know how to function without that missing piece. Nothing was working right now, his head was always a mess, always going back to that night, trying to remember every moment he neglected you; he was trying to balance out his pain and stress to not mess up his relationship with Yunho as well; while also trying to balance out work as to not get fired, or at least not to piss off Jongho even more, but nothing is working. He misses you, and without you, nothing in him works.

______________________________________________________________

Chan was in the kitchen bar working; his heavy and expensive headphones sat on the top of his head while he was nodding along to the rhythm of his last track. He kept replaying it to try and figure out what was missing, what he could change or fix, but he just couldn’t concentrate. Flashbacks kept showing up in his head, replaying again and again, memories of his college days, memories of the time he fell in love with his now roommate and failed to do something about it.

It was the winter semester; the campus was covered in snow and everyone found refuge inside the library. Chan was planning to go there and work on a paper that was due that same night, but once he saw the amount of people inside the building, he decided he wouldn’t be able to work there. And just as he was about to leave, he saw Hongjoong sitting on a couch in the corner, next to him was something that made the producer’s mouth dry. A woman so beautiful his eyes couldn’t believe what they were seeing, his brain couldn’t comprehend what was happening, his feet moved on their own in that direction, he needed to talk to her, to know her name, to introduce himself. His friend got up as soon as he saw him, greeting him and introducing her. Y/n. That was her name, a name Chan would never be able to forget.

A friendship was established that day. You would start by hanging out with Hongjoong, going out to eat, watch a movie or to a party; but soon it became just the two of you. Hanging out at each other’s dorms, he showed you some of his music, and you showed him some of her stories; at first, he would walk you back to her room every night, but after some time you would stay over, “it’s easier” you said. One fateful night, Christopher finally made a move, giving you a quick peck on the lips while listening to your favourite artist’s latest album, the largest seconds of his life were right after, waiting for your reaction; you ended up fucking on top of his desk, pushing all his books, and cd’s to the floor.

That was the way the next months were spent, hanging out and finding any and every excuse to have sex, but never giving a title to what you were. Chan just assumed you weren’t ready for that kind of commitment, convincing himself he was fine with what you had, not admitting he was just too much of a coward to ask if you felt the same as him.

“I just don’t understand him, Jisung. One day he acts as if we were a couple, and the next he calls me his best friend. Friends don’t treat each other the way we do, friends don’t do what we do.”

“Maybe he isn’t ready for that kind of commitment, he would just rather stay as friends with benefits.” Jisung pat her on the back, trying to comfort her.

“But I don’t want to be just friends with benefits.” You pouted her lips.

“Hey, come on, don’t be sad. I'll tell you what, why don’t you come with me to Wooyoung’s party this Friday? You’ll have fun and forget, at least for a bit, about Chan.”

Christopher’s first mistake was introducing you to Jisung. The second one was allowing you to befriend him. And his last, but most fatal one was not going to that party. Why? Because Yunho and Mingi were there.

“Y/n, this my friend Mingi. Mingi, this is Y/n.” And just like that, it was over before it could even begin. That same night Mingi had introduced you to Yunho, and they both were heads over heels for you, they asked you to hang out the very next day and while at first you were confused as to how it would work, they won you over, pushing completely out the idea of Chan off your head.

He remembered the first time you talked about them, he thought you had just made out with one of them at the party, and while he wasn’t exactly happy about it, he could let it slide, no idea of what was about to come. Texts left unanswered; calls that went to voicemail; and long nights waiting for you to show up, but at some point, it became clear, that you were not just sleeping around with them, you were in love. That very same night he went out and got drunk out of his mind, only being able to get back home after Changbin and Minho found him trashed on a bench in front of their building. He blamed himself, if he hadn’t been so scared, if he had just tried, you would be his, and he promised himself that if that door ever opened again, he would be there. But as time went on, it became more apparent that would never happen… until now.

He kept repeating over and over to himself that you weren’t ready, that you still love them and that you were still mourning that relationship, but he couldn’t help himself, he wanted you.

The last month he had been in some kind of hell in heaven. When you first had shown up, he was pissed off beyond comprehension, how could they let this happen? How could they treat you like that? He had spent every second of his existence since he met you, loving and worshipping the ground you walk on and they had let you slip away? Unbelievable. But he couldn’t help but see the perks of all of this. He was the one to console you, to build you back up, and through the course of the weeks, you were better.

He would come back home to you cooking, greeting him the second he went in; you telling him about your day or a new show you were watching; you showed him your work and asked his opinion. Everything went back to how it was; it was even better. This is what he had been missing out all this time?

“Good morning, Channie.”

“Welcome back, Chan. I made some spaghetti; I hope you like it.”

“Hey, Chan. How was work?”

Oh, blissful domesticity. But everything was too good to be true. They would show up in the most subtle ways, in the middle of a conversation, in the notifications of your phone, even in the clothes you wore, they still smell like them; your ex-boyfriends were everywhere in his apartment, tormenting him. And, of course, he wasn’t blind, he could see it, your face still showed how heartbroken you were, and he could also hear it at night, small sobs escaped your mouth, whispering their names again and again.

Yunho…

Mingi…

Never his name.

______________________________________________________________

Jisung had just arrived home, his hands full of grocery bags balancing them while trying to open the door, and just as he was about to spill everything on the ground, a soft hand came to his rescue.

“Jesus, Sungie be careful.” The person behind him giggled.

“Y/n?” His eyebrows furrowed, confused, but he still leaned in and hugged you. “What are you doing here? How did you get in the building?”

“Oh, I live here now.”

“Mingi gave up his rent control apartment? Is he crazy?”

“Um… not exactly.” You scratched the back of your head.

“Okay, come inside and tell me what’s going on.”

…

“And that’s how I ended up living with Chan.” You took a small sip of the hot chocolate Jisung had prepared.

“Have you talked to them?”

You shook your head.

Jisung’s arms were folded against his chest, his eyes looking directly at yours, not sure what to say, “So it’s over between you and them?”

“I don’t know, Hannie. I love them, so much it hurts, but I don't think they feel the same way, they act as if I'm not even there, as if I'm not important to them.” You lay down on the kitchen table, controlling your breathing so you won't start crying.

“Well, that’s just not true.” He put his hand on top of your head, petting you, “Mingi can be an idiot sometimes and the same goes for Yunho, but they love you, baby. From the very first moment they met you, they have loved you, maybe they just lost their tracks for a moment, but they will come back to you.” He kissed you on the forehead, “and if for some reason they don’t, I will be there to help you pick up the pieces.”

______________________________________________________________

Minho arrived late at night, completely done with work and with stubborn patients who thought they knew more than him because they read an article on the internet. Jisung ran to the front door as soon as he heard the jiggling of the keys, ready to receive his grumpy husband. He accompanied him into the kitchen, where he served him a hot plate of his favourite food and told him about this day.

“I found the chips you like on sale so I bought a couple, I also bought the ingredients I was missing for that ramen you want to try, oh and I tried that juice I’ve been craving, but it wasn’t that good.” Minho couldn’t keep up with the number of things that came out of his husband’s mouth, but he was happy to listen. “Oh, oh my god I almost forgot, guess who I ran into?”

“Who?” He said while shoving a spoonful of soup into his mouth.

“Y/n, she broke up with Mingi and Yunho, and she’s staying with Chan.”

Minho choked, coughing aggressively, not believing the words that came out of Jisung’s mouth. Everything made sense now, that’s why the puppy-like doctor had been so miserable the last couple of weeks. And why Chan had been avoiding him lately. He got up and headed towards the door, “Give me a second, love I’ll be right back.”

He made his way down the hall, he was in no mood to do this, but it had to be done. He had witnessed first-hand how completely devastated had Chan been after you had broken his heart (not that he thinks you did it on purpose), how hard it was to get him to shower, to go to work, how long it took him to go back to normal, and he feared it would happen again. He pounded on the door, not caring if the neighbours next door complained. The door opened harshly, a sleep-deprived Christopher on the door side, looking at him as if he had grown to heads.

“Min, it’s two in the morning, what the hell are you doing here?”

The doctor grabbed him by the arm and shoved him into the wall next to the door, “You are going to explain to me exactly what you think you are doing.”

“I'm not doing anything. She’s my friend, I want to help her move…”

He interrupted, “What? Move on? Were you planning to be her saviour so she would fall in love with you? Bang Chan, she’s been engaged to them for almost a year now, they are just going through a rough patch…”

“They broke up.”

“They will get back together, it's more than obvious, they are in love.” He whispered yelling, he was worried, did Chan think he had a chance?

“They neglected her, Minho they took her for granted, I would…”

“Chan, listen to me, she’s not in love with you, whatever you two had it's over, it's been over for years, for Christ's sake.” He shook his shoulders, trying to get some sense into him.

“I know what I'm doing.”

“You clearly, don’t.” He pushed his friend back into his apartment and went back to his. His entire body ached, but anxiety filled his head, not letting him rest.

______________________________________________________________

“So, she finally dumped your ass, good for her honestly,” Minho said as he entered Yunho’s office. The latter one looked up at him, the look in his eyes completely dead. “Geez, you look like shit.”

“What do you want, Minho? I'm busy, I don’t have time for your bullshit.”

“I know where she is.”

“What?” Yunho looked at him with wide-open eyes. “Don’t you fucking dare lie to me about this.” He got up and grabbed Lee by the collar and shook him, “How the fuck do you know that?”

“Because I saw her.” Little white lie, but he technically did know where she was. He pushed him back, “I don’t like you, Yunho, at all. But I know what it's like to be in your shoes, so I’ll make you a deal, you get your shit together and I might just tell you where she is.”

______________________________________________________________

Yunho’s hands kept trembling, he had barely been able to drive home without crashing. He wanted to scream, to cry, to tell Mingi what Minho had told him, all at the same time, but he also thought, what would he say? How could he apologize? Would she take them back? He went into the house, Mingi was lying on the couch, a book in his hands and glasses sitting on his face, his eyebags and skin tone resembling his boyfriend’s, he turned to look at him, noticing how fidgety and dishevelled he looked.

“Are you okay? Did something happen at work?” He got up and approached Yunho, he grabbed his face in his hands and caressed his cheeks.

“Um…” he bit off some of the skin in his lip, not knowing how to deliver the news, his head couldn’t put the words together, not even able to process them. “Minho told me something today.”

“Ugh, that asshole. I don’t know how Jisung married that guy, he's such a nice guy and Minho is so…”

Yunho interrupted him, not able to hold it in any longer, “Minho says he knows where Y/n is staying.”

Mingi felt how the air left his body, all thoughts abandoning his mind in the same way, tears were quick to rush to his eyes, “What?”

“Yeah, he saw her and knows where she’s been staying.” He paused to order his next words, “And he said he will tell me if we manage to get our shit together.”

Mingi took him into his arms and squeezed him till he was out of breath, not being able to contain his happiness. Together they cried and smiled while the thought of everything going back to normal filled them, that was until something crossed their minds at the same time, would you even want them back?

______________________________________________________________

Tag list:

@tunaasan @scuzmunkie

[angstyhikka]

(Translations are in image alt description)

Continue development of the Colliestrophy :3

His physical form is unstable, dangerous and very chaotic, as you can see. Limbs are twisted at unimaginable angles, joints seem to be missing at all or there are too many of them, facial features are distorted beyond recognition in seconds.

Colliestrophy, unlike Collie, is completely incapable of hiding and controlling his emotions. He is thrown from one extreme to another, one moment he is crying into three streams, and then he destroys everything around, and then he falls into hysterical fun and makes all the islands dance the Abba dance and maintain the appearance of fun, making sure that no one can sleep, so that there is daylight all day long, and so that everything in the area is so bright that it burns your eyes

There is a moment in the plot when Philip needed to hide Collie in a fragment of his old prison so that the boy would not die from the blood of the Titan. After which he mysteriously disappeared, hiding the glass in the hollow three. And so a month passes, and Philip still does not return. And Collie manages to wrap himself up in thoughts that his best and only friend, almost his brother, seems to have abandoned him, and he is left alone again. How else can you explain where Philip could have gone EXACTLY at the same hour when he sealed Collie and swore that they would run away from the Clathornes TOGETHER and hide?

And when Philip finally finds Collie, releases him and explains where he went and what he was doing, this only worsened the situation, and Collie, enraged and exhausted by languishing in the fragment, eventually turns into Colliestrophe.

In this state, he does not want to delve into his feelings. He's offended. He's in pain. And at the same time, he wants intimacy. Colliestrophe prefers to pretend that nothing happened. He maintains the illusion of their perfect life, until his confrontation with Hunter. Pretends everything is fine. He is doing everything to gain Philip’s favor now, and maybe he will allow him to merge with him. He is almost ready to do this against Philip's will. But he is afraid. Doesn't want to become a rapist. He understands that such a screw-up cannot be made up for by anything later. And so he only begs:

“I still want to try. Even if it hurts. I feel like if I don't get this from you, I'll just die. This all feels like the end of the world

- Collie, brother, this is not the end of the world, believe me. Life doesn't end when you get rejected. It's painful, but not fatal.

“Well, if it hurts anyway,” Colley sobs, “ThEeeeen...

And he buries his face in his elbow.

“But I don’t want,” almost in a whisper, which still thunders like a meteor shower, “for you to get hurt...”

In the end, everything will be resolved well, but it won’t be very soon, and who knows how much the heroes will suffer and what they will have to endure until Colliestrophe becomes just a Collie again.

(Dialogue was written by Ludwig aka LasyMit)

[strnilolover]

.✦ ── Keep Me Afloat ── ✦.

♡ Concerned!Sweet!Bf!Matt x Sad!Gf!Reader x Concerned!Sweet!Bf!Chris

⚠︎ Warnings : mental/emotional burnout, crying, sad thoughts, bed rotting, brief mention of self negelct, comfort, pet names (Ma, baby, sweetheart, angel.), angst?

♡ Wc : 977

♡ A/N : Matt and Chris are dating reader! If I’m being honest, I’ve never written a thing for a three person couple so sorry if this is eh and let me know if yall fw it? I’ve been in such a sad mood that now it’s making me want to write sad stuff again. Also if any of this is touchy subject for you please read at your own risk! It’s not very detailed but just in case. Always remember to reach out to someone if you ever need help, I am here for any of you that need to talk. <3

To say you were drained was an understatement. Your mind feeling foggy everyday as if you were just existing without ever really thinking. It became more common for yourself to just lay in bed everyday before and after work, not really doing anything to care for yourself much in between.

Matt and Chris had no idea how bad you were getting. Always making excuses not to see them because you were “too busy” when that was never really the case. You were always bad at expressing your feelings, not letting anyone offer help because you were so used to suffering alone.

It felt like you were drowning, your own thoughts consumed your mind every second of the day. You were tired, sore, and mentally exhausted. Wanting to leave your job, the weight of responsibilities becoming too much to bear.

So here you were, laying in your bed with the covers up to your chin and your stuffed animal clutched tightly in your grasp. Your two weeks already out, in and over with, no longer working. You had yet to tell Matt and Chris, slightly ignoring their texts and ghosting them as you reveled in your own mind.

They became worried, constantly talking to one another about what to do and if they should go see you because it had been weeks.

So when they had finally showed up at your home, using their spare key to let themselves in, they found it in disarray. Clothes scattered in places they shouldn’t be, take out containers littered the floor. They frowned, looking at one another as they made their way to your room.

You could hear their hushed voices, footsteps growing louder as they approached your room. Of course they knocked first, entering in shortly after. It was dark, the blackout curtains drawn closed to drown out the light.

“Sweetheart?” Matt questioned, his body moving toward the bed as Chris trailed behind slightly. You didn’t move, your eyes staring blankly as his frame appeared in front of you.

His hand came out slowly to the cover, pulling it down slight to see your face. You looked pale, the dark bags under your eyes indicating you weren’t getting enough sleep. It broke their hearts.

Chris came up behind you, the bed dipping where he sat down, his hand coming out to rub your back. “Ma what’s wrong?” He asked, the worry laced into his words.

You just shook your head at them, “couldn’t take it anymore — s’too much.” You whispered as your face grew hot. Big tears streaming down your face quickly. “I-I feel so worn down. So d-drained — m’left my j-job.” You sobbed.

Their eyes widened at your words, your tears cascading down your cheeks. Matt laid down In front of you, pulling you to his chest as Chris laid behind you. “Shh — s’okay baby. Why didn’t you tell us?” Matt said as he ran his hand along your hair, the strands tangled slightly.

You shrugged, continuing to cry into his chest. Chris’ hand rubbed soothing circles on your back, trying to help calm you. “I-I just didn’t — didn’t w-want you guys to b-be concerned.” You whispered between sobs, the tears wetting Matt’s shirt. Your hands fisted in his shirt, holding him close to you as you just broke.

“We’re always going to be concerned about you baby, whether it be for small things or big things. We won’t ever stop worrying about you.” Chris stated, Matt nodding in agreement as he added on to Chris’ words. “You can always tell us if something is bothering you sweetheart — if you’re struggling, because we’ll always be here to help you.”

You nodded your head, knowing their words were true. “I was s-so unhappy there — it became too m-much on my mental health.. and emotional health.” You stated, sniffling as your tears began to stop. Feeling too tired to cry anymore. “Became hard to find time to do anything, hard to t-take care of myself.” You added.

Chris and Matt nodded at your words, holding you in their embraces tighter. It felt good to be held by them, after pushing them away for so many weeks, allowing yourself to somewhat relax after the constant fighting with your brain.

“We’re here now angel. let us take care of you, okay?” Matt whispered against your head as his lips pressed a kiss to your temple.

Chris nodded in agreement, “you don’t have to worry about a thing ma, just let us help you feel better. How about a nice long bubble bath?” He said, squeezing your hip reassuringly.

You nodded your head slowly, allowing them to take over for you, to help you just let go. You felt Chris move behind you, standing up to walk to your connected bathroom. Cupboard doors behind opened and closed as the water began to run, Matt holding you close still as his hands continued to rub soothing circles on you.

Chris walked back into the room, making his way back over to where you and Matt were. He pulled the covers back from you, scooping you up in his arms gently as he pressed a kiss to your head just like Matt did. He walked back to the bathroom, setting you down gently as Matt followed behind.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes and into the bath okay?” He said softly, tugging your shirt up and over your head. The rest of your clothes following suit as he guided you into the tub, Matt helping where he could.

They sat there near you as you seemed to relax into the warm water, eyes closing momentarily. You somehow knew you were going to be okay, even if it was going to be hard to fix how you were feeling. But, you had two of the most amazing people to help you every step of the way.

© Strnilolover

♡ Another A/N : Wrote this while half asleep so if it seems repetitive and such I’m sorry </3

[daenysx]

hello can i ask for another aemond hurt comfort fic (if ure still writing for him, if not thank u anyway <3) make it hurt pls thank you 😞

p.s: i absolutely sobbed reading that drabble of him getting snappy at reader bcs they wanted to go out while it's sunny + also why i went back on ur blog and coincidentally saw ur requests open lol

i don't think i'll ever stop writing for aemond, i love him too much ♡ thank you for your request, lovely, i hope you like this!

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, hurt/comfort

aemond isn't used to have someone taking care of him, not when he's like this.

his mother was doing the best she can when he was younger; holding his hand when he had an appointment with his doctor, sleeping next to him and rubbing his back when he couldn't get any rest, kissing his forehead and telling him how brave he's been. as he grew older he stopped asking for help, she had to have her own life. he did anything he can to convince her that he's fully capable of taking care of himself now. "thank you, mom, i'm fine."

alicent put her children before her every time, sacrificing her youth just to make sure they are well. aemond felt guilty when he realized how little his mother cares about her own life, only to take care of her half blind son. it pains him, still, but he's a grown man now. he'll be okay when she's out of town with her newly wedded husband.

he lies in bed for hours, waits for the pain in his eye disappear. the room is dark, it's silent in a disturbing way. aemond curses under his breath when a sudden pain flashes in his head, he might prefer dying over this.

no, he can't cry. it'll only make the pain worse. does he deserve to live his young days like that? laying in bed like a sick man, waiting for help but being too prideful to ask for it, spending hours only to be able to breathe without suffering. he's mad these days, always angry and tense. vengeful for something that happened years ago, tearing up for his wound that will never be okay.

the door creaks open slowly. you close it back to let the darkness stay still. quiet steps, almost hesitant as if he'll tell you to leave. you put on a brave face as you approach him with a cool glass of water in your hand.

"aemond?" you whisper. you can't see his face clearly, he doesn't react as you put the glass on his nightstand.

"i'm okay." he says. dishonesty drips down his voice.

"can i help you?" you whisper again. it's the first time in your new relationship that he's been so bad. you don't know what to do.

"i'm used to it." he replies. "you can leave if you have somewhere else to be, i don't think i can leave the bed for the rest of the day."

your heart breaks. does he think you'll leave him like this? he might prefer suffering silently but you won't let him. he seems like he doesn't even get the point of having a relationship. he treats you like you aren't his girlfriend, like you are just another person in the room. it makes you wanna curl up in bed and cry, you know you don't deserve this.

he's still in pain so you can't be mad at him. it'll only make things worse. "i can leave- if you want to be alone. i'd rather stay with you, though."

you can't see his face but you can feel he tries to decide. you like aemond too much and you think he likes you too. you know he does. it definitely has to do something with his past. you try to take a silent breath, completely still to not disturb him.

aemond doesn't even know what to say, he'd kill to have someone by his side. to have you. he selfishly wants to keep you even when he feels like he shouldn't. you deserve someone better. you deserve a man who doesn't have to stay in complete darkness because of his past. you are shining everywhere you go but aemond is dark, there's no spark in him. he likes you too much to let you go, his inner turmoil does him nothing good.

"stay with me." he says finally. "please."

"can i sit?"

"mm-hmm."

you sit on bed carefully. you treat him like he's someone delicate, like he deserves something good. aemond isn't sure how to deal with your kindness, he still hasn't found a way. he likes it too much, though. he likes everything about you.

you hold his hand gently. his fingers are cold, you rub his knuckles with a soft thumb. he lets out a breath he doesn't know he's been holding when you press on a tight spot, right where his thumb meets his pointer finger. it feels nice. you keep rubbing his hand until you hear a protest.

"s nice." he says quietly.

"my mom used to do this when i got headaches. i know yours is different but-"

"s really nice." he says again. "thank you."

you take his other hand, treating with same kindness. he holds a lot of tension in his body, he doesn't even know how much. a massage to his hands is a small thing to help him relax but you want him to know you're with him.

"do you want to put your head on my leg?" you ask. "maybe i can rub your temples a bit."

you are not afraid of his rejection, willing to do anything that might help him. to your surprise, he sits on bed, waits for you to get comfier. you place yourself properly, he puts his head on your leg just the way you want and you start massaging his head.

"i like your hair so much." you whisper. "so soft."

"i like yours better." he replies, whispering. "but thank you."

you press your fingers to his temples slowly, he lets out another shaky breath. "i'm not gonna hurt you, i promise. you'll feel better in a minute."

he nods slightly, feeling of your warm fingers on his skin makes him somewhat excited. he is distracted with your quiet words and kind fingers, for a moment he forgets about the dull pain in his head.

you keep rubbing his temples until your fingers go numb. you stroke his hair then, silky platinum blonde strands flow in your hands. you play with his hair, braid a little piece of it. he truly is distracted at this point, too grateful to say something.

"i think i'll fall asleep." he can say.

"that's okay." you tell him. "i'll be here when you wake up."

somehow he knows you'll be here with him until the end. he can feel how his emotions for you fill his heart and his mind until they are both full of you, only you and no one else. it's a nice feeling, having someone by his side. being someone's choice, not responsibility.

[m-jelly]

Can I request from an angst to happy ending with reincarnation?

Reader x Levi

Reader was supposed to be the queen of her kingdom but however her brother become a king. And she and Levi were supposed to get married but can't because the brother wanted to massacre the entire Ackerman clan. Out of fear because he can't control the Ackerman. (This is similar to how king karl executed the entire clan because you can't control them with the titan power). Levi sacrifice himself as an offer to save his clan (similar to the leader of the Ackerman family sacrificing himself to save the clan). Reader watch helplessly as Levi neck was cut off by a guillotine. And reader was exiled from the kingdom because of rebellion. And she suffer a lot. Then later died.

100 years later. Reader runs a flower shop and Levi become a future CEO for the Ackerman family. And somehow gave then mercy to meet each other again. Though they remember their past sadly.

Kenko panda <3

Old wounds

Levi x fem! reader

Reincarnation, angst, emotional pain, happy ending.

It's present-day and Levi goes into your flower shop to get something for his mother, but instead meets you. Reuniting with you doesn't go as planned and Levi works hard to repair old wounds.

He needed flowers for his mother and had a few things in mind. A few people had told him about a new place called Paradis Petals. The place's name sparked some distant memories from a past life, but it was a mix of good and bad.

He pushed the door open and sighed as a dark feeling gnawed at him. Levi wasn't sure why, but he felt guilty about something. All the flowers in the shop were beautiful, it was almost like a dream. After picking up a few things he approached the till.

He heard a sweet voice calling back to him to wait a moment. As soon as you walked out in a cute dress with an apron on he knew, he knew that you were the love of his life and the princess who took his heart. He couldn't believe he was meeting you again.

Levi softly said your name. "It's you."

You stared at Levi and went white as your stomach dropped. "I uh..." You cleared your throat. "Just these?" You started collecting the flowers. "Do you want them wrapping up?"

He frowned a bit as he said your name. "Do you remember me?"

You wrapped up the flowers, taped them, tapped on your till and called out the total. "Cash or card?"

Levi reached over for you but you pulled back. "Please?"

You offered the card machine to him with tears in your eyes. "Just pay and leave."

"I love you."

You bit your lip. "I..." You gripped the card machine. "Please."

He tapped his card against the machine. "Can I see you again?"

You shook your head. "I don't want to."

"But."

You sniffed back tears. "It's too much. I can't." You hurried away but Levi grabbed your wrist. "Stop."

He pulled you against him and cupped the side of your face. "I love you. I've always loved you and always will."

You pushed him back as you sobbed. "You left me alone. You threw yourself at my brother and let him kill you. You tried to play the hero, but it was all a joke!" You shook. "He killed everyone after you were gone. Your death did nothing but leave us all with loss." You dropped to the floor as you started crying. "I was made to watch you die and your family right after."

Levi's eyes widened. "What? I...I didn't..."

You stumbled to your feet. "After that, I was banished. I died alone and away from everyone."

"But this is a new life now."

You hugged yourself. "It might be, but it might not. I cut ties with my family because I was terrified I'd lose everything again."

He moved closer to you. "I'm the head of the Ackerman business. I'm powerful, I'm strong and I will protect you."

You shook your head. "I can't. Every time I look at you I just see pain and blood. You said you loved me that you'd live for me, but you didn't. Call me selfish, but I just can't. Please, leave me alone."

Levi gripped the flowers and bowed his head. "Okay..." He released a long sigh. "I'll leave you alone for today, but I refuse to give up." He walked up to you and saw the look in your eyes you always had for him. He tilted his head and kissed you, you didn't pull away but kissed him back. "I'll be back."

No matter how much you tried to resist Levi, he kept coming back and wooing you. He kept turning up at your shop with gifts and to spend time with you. The more he spent time with you the more your damaged heart began to heal. The two of you talked about it all and said sorry as well for the past and what had recently been said.

You kept looking forward to Levi coming over. There was a strong longing in your heart to see Levi. The pain from the past was slowly falling away only to be replaced with pure love and hope. It wasn't like your love from the past, this new love was stronger and more pure.

Levi had also proven to you that he was more powerful and stronger in this life. The fear of losing each other was almost gone. The two of you didn't want to think again, maybe in the next life. You wanted it now.

Today you were expecting to see Levi, but he didn't turn up. What terrified you was your brother was trying to reach out to you. All you could imagine was losing Levi again. You tried contacting him and texting him, but he wasn't picking up.

Levi walked into your shop and called your name. "Good afternoon, I'm sorry I was late I had a meeting." He paused when he saw you were crying. "Are you okay?"

You ran over to him and hugged him. "I thought you were dead again."

He hugged you tightly. "I'm so sorry. I had a few meetings today as CEO." He released you and cupped your face. "Please, forgive me."

You sniffed a bit. "It's not your fault." You hummed. "I guess I have a lot of wounds still."

He leaned closer and paused. "May I kiss you?"

"You better kiss me. I need kisses."

He smiled before kissing you passionately. "I thought about you the whole time during the meetings." He caressed your cheek. "My Queen."

Your cheeks heated up. "Levi."

He winced. "Sorry, is that too much?"

You tapped your forehead against his chest. "No, it was lovely."

He tangled his fingers in your hair and lifted your head. "You are so pretty. I love you so much."

"Levi? Promise me you won't ever die for me?"

Levi smiled at you. "I will never die for you. Dying is too easy and final. Living is hard and you know that too well."

You nodded. "Yes..."

He kissed you. "I will live for you. I will keep on living for you."

You smiled at him. "I'll keep on living for you too."

"I love you."

You gulped hard. "Levi?"

He smiled. "Yes?"

You gripped his shirt. "I...I love you."

He scooped you up and spun around with you. "Yes!" He chuckled as he said your name. "I love you so much." He squeezed you. "You've made me so happy. I promise I will take care of you. I will worship you. I will never leave you."

You welled up and smiled brightly. "I promise too."

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[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Cover Me

Request: I got a request in my inbox for this fic. A Channie bias had sent an anon request wishing for a reaction. They had shared that they had lost their parents and they are an only child with no one, so there were times they felt alone and wake up feeling empty. I was editing the fic and accidentally posted it- and then deleted it because it wasn't finished thus leading me to lose that inbox request- so I'm really really hoping that they can see this either on my page or due to a repost or something. Because I just want to say that I know in times of suffering words rarely do anything to actually help. But I do know that words can create scenarios that provide an escape- even if just for a few minutes. So I'm hoping this can create that pocket of peace for you; and hopefully bring you a smile. Because I'm more than sure wherever your parents are now that they're smiling; and would love to see you smile back. <3

Chan x Gn!Reader Angst (Established Relationship)TW: Mentions of Death and Loss

I sort of wanted to make this kind of based off the song "Cover Me" by SKZ. When Rockstar was first released, I remember pressing play right at 12am when it dropped- and when Cover Me played I began to cry. Even without understanding the lyrics at the time I could hear the vulnerability of a searing kind of sadness. And it immediately became one of my all time favorite songs- if not tied for favorite along with Hellevator. Pain is a universal thing- but each and every person's experience with pain and grief is a unique experience. And even just through the sound of the song I think it was touched on beautifully. Because in those times everyone looks to be covered...So if you're the kind of person who like to relate stories to music- then I'd recommend giving Cover Me a listen.

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The night enveloped your apartment, thick with silence and shadows.

It was a quiet yet constant reminder of what you’d lost - your parents, their laughter, the warmth of their hugs. Their words. Lectures. Things you may have taken for granted in the moment but wished more than anything now you could be a part of once more.

Being an only child, that ache felt sharper, more isolating than it would be for most. Especially on mornings like this, the weight of loneliness is suffocating. And it didn't help that you had barely been able to get to sleep the night prior.

You had woken up today with a heaviness in your chest, a reminder of the emptiness that followed you like a relentless shadow. In a desperate attempt to escape it, you turned on your phone, scrolling through your playlists until you landed on Stray Kids.

Chan’s voice, the soothing anchor in your sea of sorrow, filled the room as you pulled up an old livestream.

As you listened to him laugh, joke, and share stories with fans, a bittersweet smile tugged at your lips.

In real life or online, he had a way of making everything feel lighter but even his comforting presence couldn’t always chase away the ghosts of your past.

More often than not they just provided a temporary escape.

In the midst of his laughter, you felt tears well up and blur your vision.

You missed your parents terribly today. You wanted them to be here, to share in the little things in life, your favorite moments - the way the moon shone outside, how it painted everything in silver, the memories that had been exchanged in moments that you had never known were going to be your last.

You felt the loss like a physical weight, the ache in your heart mirroring the brightness of the moon outside.

You choked on a sob, wishing someone would hear your cry, wishing for that warmth, that comfort that embrace that acted as a panacea to the worries of life.

And just as you thought you’d crumble under the loneliness, you felt a familiar warmth envelop you. You hadn't even heard him come home. but now Chan was there, arms wrapped around you from behind, his chin rested softly on your shoulder.

"I heard you crying," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with concern. "What’s wrong, love?"

The warmth of his presence grounded you, and you leaned back into him, seeking the comfort of his body against yours. "I miss them so much today," you confessed, the words spilling out in a rush. "It hurts."

He tightened his hold, his fingers tangling gently in your hair. "Thats only normal." he said, his voice filled with empathy. "I’m right here, love. Know that I'm here."

You turned to face him, the moonlight illuminating his features, making him look ethereal. His eyes were soft yet filled with understanding, and it felt like he could see right into your heart.

"I don’t know how to cope with this sometimes," you admitted, your voice trembling. "Some days are harder than others. And I don't know why some days I don't think about it at all. Why can't all days be like those days?"

He brushed a thumb across your cheek, catching a stray tear. "You’re allowed to grieve. And it's not a linear thing. You'll have those ups and downs. Just know that whenever the pain feels too much, I’ll be here to help you carry it. I'll always be willing to help you carry it."

As you leaned into him, the tears continued to fall, but this time, they felt lighter. The vulnerability in the air was palpable, but so was the warmth of Chan’s love. His presence was a cure, easing the sharpness of your sorrow.

You settled into the rhythm of his heartbeat, the soft rise and fall of his chest soothing your racing thoughts. "You make me feel less alone."

Chan nodded, understanding the depth of your feelings albeit a few simple words. "I’ll always be that someone for you. You’re never alone, even in your darkest moments." His voice was steady, a reassuring anchor amidst the storm.

Then he kissed your forehead softly, wrapping you in a cocoon of warmth and safety. You felt the tension begin to ease, his soothing presence wrapping around you like a protective blanket.

"Let’s watch the stars together," he suggested, pulling you up gently; then leading you toward the backyard.

You stepped outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin. You settled into the grass, Chan sitting beside you as you gazed up at the stars. "Look at how beautiful they are," he said, pointing out constellations. "I'd like to think that maybe your parents were allowed to hang some up for you as a lasting gift, hmm?"

You took a shaky breath and spoke. "I think they would have gifted me moonbeams..." You said quietly, looking at the full moon that lookes so fat and bright- as if you could reach out and grab it. "They always knew I loved the moon."

You laid back and Chan laid back with you in the grass, the blades tickling the back of your neck as a soft breeze blew past.

In the quietness, you heard Chan start to hum softly- and then sing.

"Dari ireoke nunbusineun bamen..." (On nights when the moon shines this bright)

You closed your eyes and let Chan's voice travel through your ears.

"Why do I feel so lonely in this night? Saebyeokbarameun mabeobilkka?" (Is the dawn breeze magical?)

In that moment, surrounded by the stars and moon wrapped in Chan’s voice you let your tears fall silently.

It hurt. With every beat of your heart you felt that strain.

"Yeah, I tried to hide away from all the sorrow and pain. But little did I know that I was going insane. The sun will always be there waiting after the rain."

And this moment only made you realize ever so much that the pain of loss would never fully fade.

"I can't take it anymore, what should I do?."

Your tears were hot as Chan intertwined his fingers through yours. Squeezing them lightly.

"Oneureun moreun cheok nungama jwo..." (Today, pretend not to notice and close your eyes)

You opened your eyes looking up at the silver moon. Wondering if they could see you, hear you. Acknowledge that pain you were harboring.

"So cover me now."

Please. Please.

"Cover me now."

You swallowed continued to stare at the moon and let your eyes trace over the stars as well. Leading you to the person beside you.

"Dari ireoke nunbusineun bamen.Nuga jeo bicheul garyeojugil oechyeo." (On nights when the moon shines this bright. I cry out, hoping for someone to cover that light)

His eyes were closed, a few tears of his own falling; letting you know that he felt for you too. That someone was out there, willing to help with that burden of pain.

A burden you had long since gotten tired of carrying.

"Bami eoneusae kkeuchi naneun najen Ttaseuhan bicheul naerijjoeneun bicheul."  (During the day, when night finally ends. I accept the warm light shining down)

A burden you no longer had to carry alone.

Since you had finally found your cover.

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