#i'm making a decision right now and it's called blocking you

[kuja-kujaku]

there is something so inexplicably miserable about being an agender he/him AFAB person both on the internet and in everyday society. i don't understand my gender and i'm not going to try. yes i'd like to look like alucard castlevania, but unfortunately i'm built like a watered-down twunk with sad tiny tiddies and a wide ass. yes, i like my hair being very long and having my nails done. these feel like masc things to me, even if they aren't to you. no i don't think you should call me ma'am bc i'm wearing my hair down or have my nails painted. or at all. no i can't explain to you why i want you to call me he or him when i don't really feel like i have a gender. how do i explain being agender from my perspective? idk. waves hand, gestures vaguely, it's just this nebulous thing out there somewhere. my gender is an abandoned cathedral. it is an empty mall. it is an intangible, liminal thing and i like it the way that it is. he/him feels nice in my mouth and sounds like a song to my ears. i shouldn't have to justify myself over and over and over again or beg and plead to be referred to the way i want to be referred to. at the end of the day, these pronouns and labels are just words. if they hold no meaning for you as you claim, if you're so accepting of all genders and all people and all walks of life, why are you so hesitant to call me by my name? why do you cringe when you call me he? and if they do hold such weight, if they are some sacred nomenclature set down by gods of language we'll never meet on this bitch of an earth, how are you not honored to bestow new words upon me? isn't there some little rebellious, defiant streak in you that would revel in that? i have chosen you to name me and speak to me in a new way, and it should be a treasure for you to do so. i am beautiful and handsome and all the things in between, my hair is my pride and my body is the shape of an hourglass that we are all subject to. we have so little time. why waste it arguing with me? it is not vain to consider myself sacred in a time and place where others would rather have me skewered and made an example of than simply use another word for me.

[musical-chick-13]

I really don't want to make this a political blog, but there is. A big difference between "Neither of the major parties are on board with my values"/"I have criticisms of everyone in the political sphere"/"the political system is inherently flawed, I wish we had better candidates to pick from" (or even, "Wow, there is so much on both sides that really sucks! No one here is a particularly great person!")<-all of which are fair and things I actually do agree with, and "Both sides are, in every single way, on every single issue, literally completely the exact same."

[hanasnx]

“ YOU GOT A FETISH FOR MY LOVE, I PUSH YOU OUT AND YOU COME RIGHT BACK ” — anakin skywalker.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: if this counts for kinktober, i'm saying the kink is begging. WARNINGS: ex!anakin �� fem reader ノ mild angst ノ established relationship ノ size difference ノ sexual content: some p in v stuff ノ pathetic begging anakin.

All of your relationships leading up to this point had resolutely ended. There were no loose ends, and nothing worth sacrificing your self-respect for. You'd cut them off, or burn the bridge if you had to, just to ensure you couldn't backslide on your decision. It's an incredible trust to place in yourself, and a little lonely. No matter how much your heart ached for the person you separated from, you would not reach out, and you'd make it pretty clear you didn't want to hear from them either. One exception stands before you now, that familiar crease in EX!ANAKIN SKYWALKER's brow as he demands to be let inside.

"It can't end like this." A statement that leaves no room for argument. One of the reasons you called it quits in the first place is dating a general doesn't feel like dating, it just feels like taking orders. "Do you have any idea what I've done for you? What I've sacrificed?" he admonishes incredulously, taking up the space of your doorway as stand your ground.

"Anakin- leave." you command. You know he's just here to pick a fight, to see if he can break your spirit with guilt-tripping manipulations. It's hard to feel large against a towering figure like General Skywalker, but you're bold enough to try to. Even if he can sweep you out of his way with an arm, you block his entrance with your body.

"You stubborn girl. You don't understand anything, do you?" he spits, the deep lines of his scowl drawing shadows that cascade his expression to a near unrecognizable degree. If you didn't know him, you'd fear for your safety.

"I told you to go!" you cry, jabbing your finger over his shoulder to signal him to turn around.

He advances, forcing you to arch away. "You don't mean that!" His voice is a lot louder than yours, and it carries. The frown in your brow relaxes as your eyes widen in response to his outburst. In a way, it's a keen reading. If it combats the loneliness of your self-sabotaging nature, you wish you'd let yourself invite him to stay. However, your pride has gotten you this far, and you don't want to appear weak. Perhaps, you don't want him to go, but it's the right thing to do.

You've been through so much together, and you're sure that he only holds onto you so tightly because you're all he's ever known when it comes to romantic entanglements. If he had been more experienced when you'd met him, he wouldn't have such passionate outrage about being refused.

He's the only one who's chased you so closely while you ran away. Retreating from intimacy, retreating from love, he's the only one who's seen right through you, and demanded you anyway.

"Anakin, you should go." you whisper against his lips as he backs you up deeper into your apartment. Eager hands curtly whip your clothes from your body, careful not to disrupt the connection of your mouths, recycling breath between you.

"Please, don't say that—You don't mean that." he murmurs, the vulnerability of being rejected laced into his plea. Your hands suspended in air from shock come to rest on his leather padding, helping him out of his robing like you've done a thousand times before. It's like a dance, the way your figures move fluidly, retracing the steps, how he backs you up against the wall as he slips his tongue between your lips, tilting his head to reach you as you're less than cooperative. The taste of him intoxicates you, coaxing your own tongue to smooth over his, and he expels a pleasant noise through his nose. His fingers splay on your shoulders, keeping you in place while staying at an uncharacteristic distance. It's as if he's begging for you with his body, showing you he'll do whatever it takes to prove to you his devotion, his love. Kiss him without touching places he's not allowed to touch anymore.

Part of you wishes he'd get over that, and in a fit of impatience, you place them for him, tracing them over the curves of your bare figure.

Herding you to the bedroom you once shared, his hand comes to cup the nape of your neck, pinning you to him as he delves his tongue deeper. You've never had anyone kiss you like Anakin, and if you didn't care for him it would be unpleasant. The impatient plunge of an inexperienced lover still laces the way he makes out with you, and it's clingy, it's forceful, it's desperate. At its end, he sucks your bottom lip between his, dragging it through his teeth. Plump, wet, and pink he speaks against yours, hushed and hurried. "Say you love me." he breathes—another plea, delicately concealed.

"Say you love me." he asks again, holding your gaze while he enters you. The fragile flinch of his softened features endears you, reintroducing his sex to yours as if its his first time—like the sensation is just too much, evidenced by the hitch in his throat when he questions you.

He sinks to the hilt over and over again, using his own hands to wrap your legs around his hips, keeping you close in embrace. He squeezes his eyes shut, grunting through his mouth from effort as he buys your love with his body, begs for your attention through his pitying ministrations. "Say you love me." he pleas one more time. "Please- please, I need you. Even if you don't mean it, even if you hate me... just... just..."

You bite hard into your lip, trying to think your way through the pleasure coursing through your veins. Skin hot and mind occupied, you clutch onto him as if he grounds you. In the dull light of the room, you find his eyes again, glossy and bloodshot. You palm his cheek, and his face softens. "I love you." you concede. The wall you've put up begins to dismantle.

[schrodingerscougar]

Part two for this one. I'm sorry for the cliffhanger in the first part. The illustration is from the amazing @ave661 .

--

Four months. That’s how much time it took Simon to get out of that hazy fugue state. He didn’t really remember what he had gone through during that time, his brain switched to autopilot after the breakup. He often wondered why it affected him this much when he didn’t even love you. You were just someone he spent time with, someone he tried to play house with for a short while to feel normal.

Still, now as he lay on his bed, watching the ceiling fan rotate to stir up the hot air in the room, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He even found himself opening a social media app to search for your name from a fake account he had set up a long time ago, and he was shocked to see the most recent photo of you. It was impossible to miss the unmistakable shape of a baby bump under your shirt, and based on its size, you got pregnant long months ago.

When he was finally allowed to go home for a short while, Simon went to see you. He knew he had hurt you, he knew you were probably still mad at him, but he had to know if it was his child. It only happened one time. One night when he tried to fix things by giving you what you wanted, hoping sex could make him see you in another light. Maybe he would finally want you the way you always wanted him to want you. But it didn’t work, and it was after that night he made the final decision to end things with you.

“What do you want?” you asked him when you opened the door.

Simon nodded as he bit the inside of his cheek. This cold welcome was fair enough, he deserved this kind of treatment. Normally, he would have left you alone. But normally, you would have told him you were pregnant.

So he silently pointed at your belly and waited for you to realize what he wanted. He knew you weren't dumb, the pieces would fall into place in a second. And sure enough, you let out a sigh then opened the door wider to let him in.

“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked you as he stood in the kitchen next to you with his arms crossed.

You were busy making him a cup of tea, but you took the time to silently shrug. When he let out a heavy sigh, you looked over at him and said, “I didn't think you'd care, Si. Simple as that.”

You were right. He didn't care. Even now that he was looking at you, his eyes occasionally moving to the bump that hid his own blood, his mind was somewhere else. He was a soldier, he knew how to take responsibility for his actions. You getting pregnant was his fault too. He couldn't just ignore the problem.

“I’ll pay child support,” he assured you.

“No need.”

Simon reached out to put a hand on the base of your neck, but you quickly pushed his hand away before he could touch your skin. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

You inhaled through your nose and held your breath in for a few seconds before finally exhaling. “So what? You’re gonna be around and help us? Take her to a doctor’s appointment or for a stroll around the block?” When you saw him looking down at his shoes, you couldn’t help but snort. “Thought so,” you said.

“I’ll better get going. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Months flew by, but Simon barely noticed. He was on a mission again far from home, risking his life as usual. You never called and he didn’t force it. He accepted that he would have to live with the guilt of making this happen. Since you didn’t want to accept child support, he opened a bank account where he stored that money, hoping that one day he could give it to you or his daughter when she became old enough.

One day he checked your social media accounts like he had done a few times before, just to see how you were. This is when he saw the post in which you announced the arrival of your baby girl. He didn’t make a big deal out of it at first. She was born and she would probably ask about her father one day. If he was still alive then, he would gladly give her a toned down explanation. If not… Well, he left everything to her in his will.

Eventually he began to save the photos of his daughter and he often found himself looking at them. She was adorable, some of her features resembling his own. Her big brown eyes were definitely his; the color and the shape were both so familiar to him.

No one from the team knew about this part of his life. He had never told anyone, because why would he? They were close, they were his brothers, but you and your daughter were carefully guarded secrets in his life. Simon knew the real reason why he never talked about you; he was afraid of the judgmental looks and words.

Two months later, when he entered his apartment again after another round of deployment, Simon didn't really know what to do with himself. He ended up looking at his daughter's photos more and more often and eventually he made up his mind to give her a visit. It had absolutely nothing to do with you. He was doing this for the little girl.

You weren't welcoming but, once again, he couldn't blame you. “I just want to see my daughter,” he said softly, hoping the two of you could avoid fighting.

For long moments you were cautiously watching him, as if you were trying to decide if he could be trusted or not. But then your eyes fell on the big teddy bear he was holding with one hand and you let out a sigh of defeat.

On the way to the nursery, you didn't talk at all. The silence didn't bother him, but still he would have appreciated some words about the little girl he was about to meet. Was he allowed to pick her up? Did she like to be held? How was she? Did she have stomach ache often? Were she teething?

“Be quick,” you warned him when you stopped by her crib.

Simon let out a sigh. “Come on, don't be like that.”

You just rolled your eyes at him before taking a step back to lean your shoulder against the doorframe, arms folded over your chest, eyes watching his every move like a hawk. He found it a little too much, he hated that you didn't trust him. Sure, he hadn't given you many reasons to trust him, but for the sake of your daughter you should have tried.

With a sigh, he rested an elbow on the side of the crib and reached out to touch the baby as gently as he could with his other hand. His own flesh and blood. It was amazing, really. Without asking for permission, he picked her up and couldn't help but smile when the baby smiled at him.

Now that he was holding her close to his body, placing soft kisses on her head every so often, Simon couldn't deny that he already loved his daughter. There was an invisible string between them, something that brought her closer to him that anyone has ever been.

The baby giggled suddenly and it brought an even wider smile to Simon’s face. He could only hope you would let him see her as often as he could visit, but something told him it wouldn't be easy to convince you.

“She likes you,” you suddenly noted.

He put down the little girl then turned to you. “The feeling's mutual.” A faint smile appeared on your lips. “Can I see her some other time?” You nodded. “Thank you. If I can help with anything, just give me a call or send a message. I'll get back to you as soon as I can,” he offered.

You been to walk out of the room and he quietly followed you, waiting for you to say something. He didn't really know what he was expecting to hear, but he had a feeling you were holding back something. And sure enough, after a few minutes of silence you began to talk, scolding him for not even bothering to send at least a text to ask about her before suddenly showing up.

“I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd read them.”

“I'm mad at you, that's true,” you agreed.

Simon leaned against the doorframe as he watched you pace in the living room like a caged animal. He remembered those nights he had spent thinking about on deployment, the moment he saw that photo of you, and he realized that maybe he was missing you.

But how could he miss someone he didn't even love? Or had he developed feelings for you, feelings he tried to hide even from himself? It was way too confusing for him, and he didn't like to be confused. It was a weakness on the field and in his civilian life.

“I should go. If you need anything–”

You came to a halt, turned to him and nodded. “I know where to find you. But can I ask you something?” Simon motioned you to go on. “Why now? Why did you become interested in her all of a sudden?”

He let out a thoughtful hum as he put his hand on the back of his neck. “I saw the photos, how much she looks like me, and… I don't know.” You took a few steps closer to him, but you still kept a comfortable distance. “I've been saving money for her. I want to give you access to that bank account.”

“I don't need your money,” you were quick to say.

“It's for her. Please, accept it.”

You became mad at him, accusing him of assuming you couldn't take care of your daughter you'd been raising on your own from day one. He knew there was no point in defending himself, you were too lost in the hate you felt for him. So he just waited there in silence, letting you finish your speech.

Then, the moment you seemingly finished, he closed the gap between the two of you. He didn't know what he was doing, he just followed his instinct when he leaned down and kissed you. This was probably the first time he truly enjoyed kissing you, and it helped a lot that you were quick to return it.

Maybe this was why he wanted to come here today. To fix things. To try to get a family he'd been craving ever since he lost his own.

(part three)

[kalki-tarot]

A message from your future spouse

Pick one picture and allow me to tap into your energy.

Pile 1

7 of swords, king of pentacles, the hermit

"Some people are trying to let u down behind your back. Some people are trying or will try to trick you into misery, please be careful. I know I'm not in your life right now, I'll be there soon though. I'm working on myself. I will try my best to become the best so that i can protect you from everyone and everything you don't like, my love. Please allow yourself to relax and stay calm till I enter your life. Stay safe and happy."

Pile 2

The emperor, 7 of swords, wheel of fortune

"No matter how hard you or we try, we can't escape our destiny. What is meant to happen, will happen. And we need not worry ourselves about it. We can't control the things that are not in our hands. We should not even try to, because we will end up becoming a block for ourselves and our union. Take however it resonates. But you need to let go of control and be in a flow state. Don't block what is meant for you. You will end up creating more problems."

Pile 3

The fool, nine of pentacles, 8 of pentacles, tower, Temperance

"I'm working day and night, so that i can provide for us. I want to give you a lifestyle that you deserve. Call me a fool for running behind materialistic things but i can't see you struggle because of me. I just went through a big tower moment and I've seen how worse things can be. What's wrong in getting some finances ready behind us? I don't know what comes next, but I'm sure things are getting aligned for both of us. Just be there."

Idk the energy was a bit scattered so the messages were kind of mixed up. Yellow can be significant color.

Pile 04

The moon, three of pentacles, 5 of swords

"This emotional and hurtful period of separation will end soon. Look at the lessons it thought us! We have become better individuals now. Better than who we were yesterday. The war will end soon and things will definitely calm down. It's just that my energy is too scattered right now that it's stopping us from coming into union. But I'm working on myself, I may be slow, but it's better to take things slowly and make it last forever."

They have fire signs in their chart.

This reading is only for entertainment purposes and is not 100% correct. Kalki tarot is not responsible for any decisions you make in your life from this reading. Please take what resonates and leave the rest as it's a general reading. Remember your life in your own hands. These are just predictions and can be inaccurate.

[hakuheartsoul]

rainy daze ✧ yoon keeho

✧ pairing: keeho x afab!reader

✧ summary: you don't fear much, but there are a few things - storms, for one, and also unnecessary feelings. enter yoon keeho, someone you've known for a long time and makes you question where you stand, but there's one small problem: he's your little brother's best friend.

✧ genre: childhood friends, fluff, smut, some angst sorry in advance)

✧ rating: 18+ (mdni!)

✧ word count: ~14.8k (oops)

✧ content warnings: attempts at humor bc keeho is funny irl, mentions of thunderstorms/lightning, 'oh no there's only one bed' trope, mentions of ✨feelings✨, dirty talk, hair pulling, leaving marks/biting, oral (m and f receiving), face-sitting, face-fucking, hand-holding (important), cum eating, irrational decision making

hi!! i’m still pretty new to writing for piwon and i'm so excited to be participating in the piwontober 24' event hosted by @kisseobie and @sxfterhearts.

i'm writing for Day 29 in which the prompt was age difference/teasing/forbidden with keeho. special thanks to @sunflowerseob, @strawberry-seob, and @leepace for being some of the most amazing friends and fellow writers out there ❤️

also am planning to turn this into a series sooo… pls look forward to that if it happens 💜

“Keeho, I’m serious.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself tighter, as if it would somehow shield you from becoming more drenched. The rain that poured down wasn’t at a storm level yet, but it was still enough to leave you soaked since you had no umbrella or jacket to help.

“Yeah, I know you are, but so am I,” Keeho responded, still cruising along at the slowest speed you figured a car could go. He drove his car on the road alongside you as you walked on the sidewalk.

“Is that how the saying is supposed to go?”

You couldn’t see it without bending down to look through the open window, but you just knew Keeho smirked.

“It is now if that’s what you want.”

You rolled your eyes. “What I’d really like is for you to leave me alone.”

You heard a small chuckle. “All these years and you’re still a terrible liar.”

You groaned. “What do you want from me?”

“To get in the car,” He phrased it almost like a question, like he was confused that you didn’t agree it was the most logical answer.

“Why?”

“For starters, it’s raining and you have no coverage to keep you from getting soaked. Two, you’re trying to go home which is several blocks away and you’re trying on foot, which isn’t safe just so you know.”

If he wasn’t driving you figured he’d probably be listing off reasons on his fingers to better prove his point.

“Three, you’re upset. Need I go on?”

“How do you know I’m ‘upset’,” you asked him in air quotes before quickly putting your arms back around yourself. “And how does getting into a car fix that, exactly?

“Well, the car can’t help with you being upset probably, but getting into the car is a good first step.” His tone was teasing before it shifted into something more serious. “And I saw you at the party, arguing-“

You couldn’t help the scoff that escaped your mouth. “Of course. I should’ve known.”

Despite saying it quiet enough for the rain to drown it out, Keeho still heard you somehow.

“Should’ve known what?”

“My brother put you up to this, right? He forced you to come look for me because I left.”

It was Keeho’s turn to scoff. “You know, contrary to what you may think, I’m not always at your brother’s beck and call.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” You tried to speed up your walking, hoping that was the end of the conversation.

Keeho accelerated slightly, first going past you and slowing back to a speed that matched yours.

“What did you mean by that,” he asked.

“Oh, come on, Keeho. You know that you guys have been inseparable since we were all kids and I don’t really think college has changed that.”

To your surprise, Keeho laughed. “God, as smart as you are, I’d have thought you’d know better by now.”

It was your turn to be the confused one. “Elaborate?”

“If we were as inseparable as you say, don’t you think your brother would be my roommate? We’d be sharing the same space, right? If we really have to be together all the time.”

Keeho had a good point (but you’d never tell him that). Your brother still lived at home with your parents, claiming that it was less expensive that way since apartments were ‘overrated and not worth it’ in his words.

So yeah, come to think of it, you actually hadn’t seen him and Keeho hanging out in person a lot lately.

“We aren’t kids anymore,” he continued when you hadn’t responded. “And you shouldn’t treat me like one just because you're older.”

You weren’t backing down. “3 years is still a pretty big gap-”

“Oh sure it is - if I was 17 and you were 20. I’m 23 and you're 26, there’s really no need to consider age in the equation at all.”

You sighed loudly, finally turning to face the car. Keeho hit the brake and leaned forward with his body angled over the passenger seat so he could see you better.

“Where are you going with this? Or is it all just mindless chatter?” You were still stalling for time before you’d probably cave and just get in the car; questions were your best bet for that right now.

That signature smirk was slapped across his face. “Always assuming I’m up to no good.”

“Keeho.”

“Look, I came after you because I saw you both arguing and you stormed out, clearly not doing well. I’m your friend too - or at least, I’d like to believe I am,” he cut himself off for a moment, almost like he wasn’t sure how to continue. “And I care about you. Honestly right now, I couldn’t give any less of a fuck about what your brother thinks.”

Well that certainly threw you for a loop.

“Why?”

“Why what,” he asked, leaning more across the seat where you could finally see his face, clearly illuminated by the streetlight you had stopped under.

“Why me over him? Isn’t he the one you’re loyal to?”

Keeho groaned and dragged a hand down his face. “For the love of- would you please just get in the car? I can tell you anything you want to know, just please stop standing in the rain getting fucking soaked.”

Again, he made a good point. And now that he’d stated he wasn’t doing this for your brother (jury was still out on if you believed that or not) you figured it wouldn’t do you any harm to get in the car.

A loud crack of thunder overhead made your decision for you, causing you to nearly fall all over yourself to get into the car. You landed in the seat with a wet thud, cringing instantly at how your clothes were clinging to your skin.

Keeho let out what sounded like a content sigh. “Finally.” He turned up the heat in the car and put it in park.

“Don’t want you getting sick, if we’re still able to avoid that at this rate.” He picked up your hands that were in your lap and held them up to the vents on the dashboard.

“You were rubbing your hands together outside and they feel like fucking ice so hold them here for a bit.”

“Is it really a good idea to stay parked on the street?”

Keeho shrugged. “Not a big deal. This street doesn’t usually get too busy at night, and they can just go around me.”

You nodded at the reasoning as you slowly started to regain feeling in your hands again. Another boom of thunder made you jump, which unfortunately for you did not go unnoticed by Keeho.

“You still scared of thunderstorms?”

His tone was light so logically you knew he was genuinely just curious. However, you were very defensive about this subject in particular, so you weren’t taking it that way.

“Yes. And don’t you dare try and tease me about it.” You crossed your arms and looked out the passenger side window.

Keeho chuckled softly. “No judgment here. Of all the things I want to tease you about, your fears aren’t on that list.”

That got your attention.

You turned to face him again, noticing how he had unbuckled his seatbelt so he could angle himself more toward you. 

“What was that?”

“What was what,” he asked, smile stretching across his face again.

“That you just said, about teasing - what was it?”

“Hmm, not sure I know what you’re talking about. Maybe you misheard?” His eyes crinkled with the force of his smile and it almost made you crack.

“Wow, skipping straight over teasing and into gaslighting territory. I expected better from you, Keeho,” you tossed the ball back into his court, anticipating he would go even further.

“Ok whoa, first of all, I would never gaslight anyone, ever. That’s shit’s awful. Secondly: why do you wanna know the ways I want to tease you?”

Wait. Pause. Hold it.

“First, it was things you wanted to tease me about. Now it’s the ways you want to tease me?” 

Keeho’s ‘oh shit’ expression almost made you laugh.

“Which one do you want to explain first because I’m gonna need clarification.”

“Oh, well, um I guess, uh…” Keeho stuttered. “Fuck, I don’t know how to talk myself back from that, actually.”

You didn’t hold back your laughter then. “Ok fine, pick one and explain that one to me.”

He tapped his chin. “Yeah, I can work with that. Ok: the things I want to tease you about. You ready?”

You nodded, trying to shrug off the thought that you were hoping he’d tell you about the ways instead.

Keeho leaned closer and it suddenly felt like he was very much in your space. It also felt like you very much did not mind that.

He smirked, looking way too good for the proximity he was in.

“Everything.”

That one word alone changed the trajectory of your entire night then, and you knew it.

Keeho knew it, too.

“Well? Is that a satisfactory enough answer for you?” Keeho was still smirking as he leaned back into his seat and away from you, letting you breathe properly once more.

“Um, y-yeah. That’ll do for now, even though it’s vague.” You started off weak but ended it strong, still trying to keep up the banter you two had going so you could hopefully avoid… whatever direction this was heading in.

You could practically feel him rolling his eyes. “I really never can win with you, can I?”

“Nope, I’m a hard one to please.”

Keeho just stared at you for a second before he nodded in acknowledgment.

“Good to know.”

“Wait, what-”

Keeho interrupted you before you could finish. “So, where am I dropping you off? I’m not sure where you're staying these days, but I could take you to your parents’ place if you want.”

“Please no, anywhere but there.” The chance of running into your brother again tonight - despite it being highly unlikely since he usually crashed at the parties he went to - was not something you wanted to risk in the slightest. Your parents were the reason you were in this mess in the first place, making you find your brother and attempt to bring him back since he wasn’t supposed to be out while ‘grounded.’

And yes, if anyone asked your parents, they’d say it was completely fine to ground a 23 year old for misbehaving. You couldn’t argue with that sometimes, because your brother could really get up to some heinous shit.

Maybe that’s why Keeho hasn’t been around him as much…?

“Say no more, parents’ house is a no-go.” Keeho paused, almost looking shy for a moment. “I can take you to your place then, if you don’t mind me having the address.”

You wouldn’t mind giving Keeho your address, but the thought of going home right now also didn’t seem too appealing.

Apparently you took too long to answer because Keeho started backtracking. “Or we could just stay here in the car, whatever you’re most comfortable with.”

Not missing the opportunity to tease him again, you jerked your thumb toward the window and settled for saying “So if I’m most comfortable with walking in the rain-”

Keeho pressed something on his door.

“Keeho… what did you just do?”

“Activated the child locks.”

“Child… child locks? What happened to ‘we aren’t kids anymore,’ hm?” You were trying so hard not to burst out laughing at his attempt to keep the situation in his control.

“Whatever keeps you in this car and not getting ill from the rain is something I’m willing to use.”

You chanced opening the door to see if he truly had pressed the child locks, and you were mildly surprised to see the door opened with ease.

Keeho was quick to grab onto your arm closest to him; not forcefully at all, but enough to stop your movement and have you close the door again.

“Ok so maybe it was the window lock instead, but I’d really rather you just let me drive you somewhere so you don’t have to walk and I know you’re safe.”

Before you could even formulate a thought about how to respond, a roar of thunder followed by a long streak of lightning made you curl into yourself.

“Hey, it’s ok, you’re ok,” Keeho tried to comfort you with a pat on your shoulder. He kept his hand there and the touch was somewhat calming.

”Thank you,” you answered in a small voice before you cleared your throat. “Um, I actually kinda don’t really want to be alone tonight with it storming like this so if it’s ok…”

As you trailed off, Keeho buckled his seatbelt and pressed the brake again to shift the car in drive.

”Buckle up and we’ll head to my place.”

The air in the apartment was chilly, making you shiver even more once you stepped through the door. Cold air mixed with being soaked to the bone was not what you’d call ideal conditions, that was for sure.

“Shit, my roommate probably turned the AC way down before they left. Stay here, I’ll go fix it real quick.”

Keeho placed a hand on your shoulder briefly as he walked past you. It was just the barest of touches, but you found yourself shivering once again.

Must be the AC. That had to be the only explanation.

Keeho was back in front of you just as you heard the AC clicking off. He smiled like he was proud of what he’d done, and you smiled back in thanks.

“I appreciate it,” you rubbed your hands along your arms to try and facilitate warmth - unfortunately to no avail.

“I appreciate you actually listening to reason and coming back with me.”

You rolled your eyes. “So where am I gonna be staying tonight?”

Keeho’s hint of a smile dropped slightly. “Oh, uh… I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

The poor boy looked like he needed help coming up with an answer so you decided to give him grace this one time.

“A spare room? A couch? An air mattress, maybe?”

Keeho rubbed the back of his neck as he contemplated the options.

“Our air mattress is busted so that’s out. The only other room in here is my roommate’s and he’s gone for the weekend, but I don’t think you’d like sleeping there very much. He also probably wouldn’t be too fond of the idea…”

You scanned the area until your eyes landed on the couch against the wall in what looked like the living room. “What about there?”

Keeho nodded but was frowning. “That’s a place, yeah. It’s just very uncomfortable and I want guests to enjoy themselves when they’re here.”

You clutched your chest in feigned hurt. “But I thought we were friends? Now I’m just a guest?”

Keeho smiled, catching on. “Nope, you’re definitely at the friend level. So your comfort matters even more to me because of that.”

Well, shit. You talked yourself into that one.

“So I’ll take the couch tonight and you can have my bed, if that’s cool. It’s clean - I promise.”

You didn’t doubt it for a second - you’d never known Keeho to just leave messes lying around - but you didn’t want to kick him out of his own bed.

“Keeho, I can have the couch, I swear it’s fine-”

He shook his head with finality. “I’m not having you sleeping out here all night when you’ve already been through enough as it is. Speaking of,” Keeho trailed off as he scanned your figure. “You're still drenched.”

“Oh,” was your brilliant response.

“If you, uh, want to take a shower or something, you can. I can grab a towel and whatever else you need?”

“Sounds great except I don’t have a change of clothes,” you shuffled your feet a little, noticing how water seeped out and onto the floor. You felt bad for that now as well.

“Oh, right. Well, you can… borrow some of mine? If you’re ok with that?”

The offer made you smile. “Yeah, I think that’ll work.”

Keeho gave you two thumbs up, something you knew he did when he was feeling a little awkward about what had just happened. “Got it, yeah, so I’ll just um… go get everything set up for you. The shower is in my bedroom, but there’s a door so it’s not just open or anything-”

You could see him spiraling in real time, so you reached out to touch his arm to get him to stop. “Hey, look at me for a second?”

Keeho looked at you and you could see how he was breathing a little faster from the rambling he’d just done.

You gave him a reassuring smile. “Thank you. Seriously.”

Keeho’s eyebrows unfurrowed and he seemed visibly calmer. “Right. I’ll uh, I’ll be back.”

You waited for Keeho to finish up in the bathroom, choosing to take in your surroundings now that you were by yourself. The apartment looked about like what you’d expect from Keeho, and it got you wondering if his bedroom would be the same-

“Everything’s all set up now,” Keeho returned with a grin. “You can go whenever you want and I’ll just stay out here or something.”

”Sounds great,” you made one move with your foot and immediately winced at all the water that started dripping onto the hardwood floor underneath you.

No way in hell were you tracking this through the carpet. You’d rather go home than do that.

”Um, Keeho?”

”Yeah, what’s up?” His back had been turned to you while he was looking for something in the kitchen area.

”I, uh, I don’t really know how to get to the bathroom.”

”Oh right, duh. It would help if I told you. My bedroom is the first door on the right down that hallway.”

”Um, well what I mean is,” you watched him walk back over to where you were standing. “I don’t want to get water everywhere.”

Keeho looked like a lightbulb just went off in his brain. “Oh shit, yeah, that would be kinda bad. Uh…I could carry you?”

”I mean,” you kept your composure despite the offer making your face heat up, “I’m not opposed necessarily but wouldn’t that still drip water onto the floor?”

“Good point. I mean, the carpet shouldn’t get that messed up…maybe.”

”How about instead,” you braced yourself for the words that were about to come out of your mouth, “I can take my shoes and clothes off out here? Just the outer layer that’s soaked.”

You were looking at the floor, cheeks burning hot and the suggestion that you came up with. Keeho didn’t say anything for a moment, and when you finally glanced at him it looked like he was trying to restart his thinking process.

”Oh um, yeah, sure, if that’s how you want to do this. I’ll just, uh…go get the towel I laid out for you.”

He practically jogged to the bathroom to retrieve the towel, making you giggle at the action.

Within a few seconds he was back, towel held in a firm grasp. “Here, I’ll go uh- I’ll go back in my room and stare at the wall. Like, the other wall. Not the wall connected to the bathroom. Um, anyway, just… come through whenever you’re ready.

Keeho didn’t even give you a chance to respond before he was walking back to his room. He shut the door almost all the way behind him, leaving it cracked the smallest amount.

With Keeho out of the room, you got to work stripping down. Thankfully, your bra and underwear weren’t too terribly wet, so you could put them back on underneath his clothes when you were done with your shower. You left your shoes, socks, and drenched layer of clothing by the door to the apartment, piling as much of it onto the doormat as you could.

Once you had the towel wrapped tightly around you, still over your undergarments, you walked over to Keeho’s door and knocked on the wood twice. Keeho mumbled some sort of affirmation and you went inside.

True to his word, Keeho was facing the complete opposite way of the bedroom door and the bathroom. You didn’t see light from his phone or anything, so he was likely just sitting there staring at the wall, like he said he would. He fidgeted a small bit once he could tell you were in the room, shifting his weight from one side to the other where he was sat on his bed.

You couldn’t help but smile. The way he was going out of his way to make sure you were as comfortable as possible tugged at your heart a little bit, but you tried to ignore it.

This was your baby brother’s best friend. A friend who is even younger than your brother (although not by much). The last thing you needed was to get caught up in something with Keeho that could wreck both your and his relationship with your brother.

More for Keeho’s sake, really, since you were more distant with your brother these days.

Did you think Keeho was cute? Absolutely. Did you guys get along pretty well? You do, and have for a long time.

Was it worth it to see if there could be something more?

That was something you’d wondered a few times before and may never get the answer to.

Before you could self-reflect more on a currently non-existent problem you proceeded to the bathroom to take your shower.

You didn’t look to see what clothes he laid out for you until you were done, noticing as you exited the shower that he left you a large red t-shirt and a pair of dark basketball shorts.

The shirt fit fine since you preferred oversized shirts anyway for sleeping. The shorts, though… they didn’t have a tie or anything so the waistband was a little loose, meaning there wasn’t really a way for you to keep them on comfortably.

Were you really about to step back into Keeho’s bedroom looking like you have nothing but his shirt on? Well, yes.

No time like the present and all that.

You knocked on the bathroom door to signal to Keeho that you were about to come out and once he let you know it was alright, you took a deep breath before you turned the door handle.

As soon as your eyes landed on him, your mouth went dry.

Keeho was sprawled out on the bed, changed into a pair of gray sweatpants with a black tank top. His dark hair, tinted with blue highlights, was still a little damp from the rain, by the looks of it. He had one hand behind his head while the other was in front of him, scrolling away on his phone.

You remembered the day you saw his new blue hair look for the first time - you only went mildly insane.

And now, with all of this combined, he looked…a lot better than you’d anticipated, that was for sure. Of course, the last time you’d seen him in any form even close to this was…well, never, actually. At least not since you two grew up.

When you shut the door back behind you Keeho finally looked up. His eyes met yours and he suddenly dropped his phone. It landed on his chest before sliding down onto the bed, forgotten.

“Oh, uh, hey.” He cleared his throat and tried to avert his eyes. “How was the shower? Find everything ok?”

You giggled as you walked over to the bed. “Yes, thank you. I found all the essentials easily since they were all in one convenient place.”

“Right, I forgot I put them there, ha. Anyways, I’ll just um,” Keeho jerked his thumb towards the door, “go so you can have your privacy.” He phrased it like a question. 

“Do you want to go,” was your response.

“Do you want me to go?”

“Keeho, it’s your place. I’ll do whatever you want me to.” The words tumbled out before you could realize what you’d just implied. 

You could’ve sworn you heard Keeho mumble ‘fuck’ under his breath before he gave you an answer.

“What I want is for you to be comfortable. And since it’s still storming, you’ll probably feel better in here because it’s louder out there with the couch being by a window.”

Shit, you’d forgotten about the storm momentarily. “Makes sense,” you responded, looking out of the doorway of Keeho’s bedroom.

Keeho sat up straighter to push himself off of the bed. You definitely weren’t watching the way his arm muscles flexed with the movement. “I made some tea while you were showering; if you want some, it’s in the kitchen. I left out a cup for you but please don’t feel obligated.”

You felt a lump form in your throat at how nice he was being. This is what you’d been missing out on for a few years because you counted him as ‘off-limits’ before?

“Thanks, Kee. I might grab some before I finally fall asleep.”

Keeho smiled brightly. “Been a long time since you’ve called me that. I’ve missed it.”

You tried to remember the last time you’d referred to him like that and figured it had to be since before he left for college. So, yeah, it had been a while.

“Well, I’ll be out there if you need anything,” Keeho continued, walking over to where you stood. At the same moment, a roaring crack of thunder sounded overhead, making you jump and start to fall over.

Keeho being Keeho, of course, was there to catch you instantly. He wrapped his arms around you and embraced you in a hug. You were shivering and he could tell, so he held you tighter.

You decided to say fuck it and just go for it.

“Kee?”

“Hm,” he hummed in response. You could feel the vibration of the hum throughout his chest since that’s currently where your face was.

“Would it be alright if you…stayed with me? At least until the storm subsides?”

You felt Keeho stiffen somewhat before he relaxed again.

“Yeah, whatever you need. I can like, grab a chair or something and set it in here-”

“Don’t be silly,” you pulled back so you could smile at him. “Your bed is big enough for the two of us, don’t you think?”

Keeho looked taken aback. “You sure that’s ok?”

“Wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t.”

“Cool, yeah, cool. Ok so let’s just- yeah.” Keeho led the both of you back to the bed. “Take whatever side you want.”

You laid down in the middle of the bed and stretched out just to be difficult. “What about here?”

Keeho finally cracked a smile, and you were thankful to see it. There was a sort of tension that had settled in the air since you first asked him to stay, and you were trying to dissolve it as soon as possible.

“Don’t think you’ll want half of me on top of you later so that might not be the best place.” Keeho gently nudged your leg so he could get onto the bed. You rolled over to give him more room, laying on your stomach now with your eyes closed while you sighed deeply. 

When you finally opened them again, Keeho was looking at you - well, rather, he was looking at a part of you. Up until that point, you’d been completely unaware that moving made his shirt ride up your thighs.

“Oh shit,” you quickly moved to pull his shirt down in the back. “Sorry, the shorts didn’t fit so I just figured I’d go without.”

“Huh?” Keeho looked up at your face, almost like he was dazed.

You laughed. “Eyes up here, Kee. And what I was saying is your shorts were too big so I left them off. Hope you don’t mind?”

“You have no idea how much I don’t mind,” he smirked at you and suddenly, the tables didn’t seem to be turned in your favor anymore.

You quickly turned your head the other way so he couldn’t see the way your cheeks started to flush. “Right, well, glad we cleared that up! Goodnight then.”

Keeho laughed, the sound quiet but still comforting. He grabbed a blanket that was at the edge of the bed and draped it over you. “Night.”

You felt Keeho shift on his side, thinking he probably turned the opposite way as well. There was a lamp on his nightstand that he hadn’t turned off yet, and it was the only thing still really providing illumination in the room.

It wasn’t even 5 minutes later before you felt Keeho shift again and softly call your name.

“Yeah,” you responded as you turned to face him. He looked…nervous.

“This is a safe space, right?”

You chuckled. “I don’t know, it’s your room so you tell me.”

Keeho groaned. “I didn’t mean it as in the physical space - although it is safe in here, don’t get me wrong-”

 “Kee, focus.” You interrupted his spiral again, not wanting him to overthink and back down from whatever he was trying to say.

He took a deep breath. “Right, ok. Can I say something blunt?”

Your heartbeat quickened, not sure where this was headed. “Yes?”

Keeho moved closer with a smile, tugging slightly on the end of one of your sleeves - one of his sleeves.

“I gotta say,” he trailed his eyes up your figure, starting from where you caught him looking earlier. “You look really fucking good in my clothes.”

You stopped breathing for a second. This is the closest Keeho had ever really come to flirting with you. The most he’d done in recent years since you both became adults is tease you relentlessly, but you always shrugged it off as he just liked to get on your nerves (endearingly).

You regained your composure, trying to look unaffected when you answered him.

“Do you say that to all the girls you manage to get into your bed?”

Keeho wasn’t phased. “If I’m being honest-”

“Because it won’t work on me. I’m different.” You almost cringed at hearing yourself say those words even though you meant them in a completely other context than you hear most people use it in.

Keeho stared at you more intently this time. “What I was going to say,” he felt the fabric of the sleeve again between his fingertips, “is no, I don’t just say that to ‘girls I get in my bed.’”

“But you’re right about one thing, “ he continued, face lit up beautifully by the warm glow of the lamp beside him, “you are different. And that’s why I’ll say it to you.”

You’d started leaning closer to him as well without realizing it, his touch through the shirt driving you crazy. “Keeho, where are you going with this?”

He smiled, full of reassurance. “Wherever you want.”

You ached to cross that line, to break that boundary. But something was still keeping you back.

“What if what I want isn’t right,” your voice came out small.

Keeho’s smile faded. “What do you mean by not right?”

You sighed. “I’m older than you, for starters. And I know you don’t typically go for people older than you.” 

Keeho tilted his head at your admission. You figured he never knew you still kept up with him outside of the times you actually saw each other in person, and he didn’t know that your brother let that particular bit of information slip once in conversation.

“Keeho would never want to date you - he probably sees you as a hag. He wants someone younger, so don’t even try.” The words from your brother still stung today, and what’s worse is they were completely unwarranted. All you’d done is ask how Keeho was liking college, and your brother just blurted out that in response.

“Also, and more importantly, you’re my brother’s best friend. That’s like…some kind of betrayal or something.”

“What is, what betrayal are you talking about?” Keeho looked like he was really trying to understand, which made this conversation much more difficult.

You steadied yourself before you finally gave him your answer. “The way I want you.”

Keeho closed his eyes like he was trying to gather his thoughts. His hand dropped from your shirt. “Unbelievable.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I was hoping that one day, you’d stop seeing me as a kid or just an extension of your brother. I wanted you to see me for me, because I’ve only ever seen you that way.” His eyes were open again, and they looked full of purpose.

“Keeho, what-”

“My point is, whatever you think about me because of my age and me being friends with your brother: don’t.” This was the most serious you’d ever seen him. The usual teasing, easy-going Keeho was nowhere to be found right now.

He reached out to rest his hand against your cheek. You leaned into the touch, welcoming the warmth that he radiated.

“I want you. And I’m not afraid to say that. There’s something there, I know there is,” Keeho kept going. “And I’ve known that for a while, at least on my end.”

“How long have you known,” you asked him with curiosity, but the way his hand moved from your cheek to the side of your neck really wasn’t helping you’re trying to stay calm during all of this.

Keeho hummed in thought. “Probably since right before I went to college.”

You gasped. “So when you were…”

“17. And you were 20. I knew that back then obviously there was no way - but I’d always hoped that one day maybe there’d be a chance.”

This information hit you like a tidal wave and threatened to pull you under. Keeho had been crushing on you for at least 5 years, and you had no idea to what extent until now.

All those times you thought he was just being ‘flirty’ he may have been actually flirting. You always shrugged it off before because why wouldn’t you?

He called your name again to pull you out of your thoughts.

“Need you to talk to me. I can’t read your mind,” his eyes had softened while he was talking to you. “Which is probably a good thing because I don’t know if your brain ever shuts the fuck off.”

You scoffed and shoved him playfully, his hand never leaving the side of your neck while he tried to dodge you.

“I…don’t really know what to say right now. I had no idea you felt that way- or at least that you felt that strongly.”

“I know,” Keeho answered dramatically. “I can’t tell you how frustrating that’s been over this last year especially. None of my pick-up lines worked on you and it had me like ‘damn, is my game really that bad?’”

You started laughing. “Oh my god, no, it’s not that. I just always thought you were teasing me.”

“I was! In a flirtatious manner!”

“I see that now,” you countered. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.”

Keeho rolled his eyes. “Look, the past is the past, what matters is right now. And right now,” he continued, rubbing his thumb along your neck while the rest of his hand stayed in place, “I need to know what you want.”

A spark of desire settled in your core. You wanted Keeho. But you were still worried.

“If you decide you don’t feel the same,” Keeho went on before you could respond, “I can turn over and we can forget this ever happened. Well- you can forget this ever happened. I don’t think I’ll be that lucky.” His sweet smile then almost broke your heart.

Your words were failing you, so you did the only thing you could think of: you moved closer. You were directly in each other’s space now, and the movement made Keeho’s breath hitch.

“Do you want this,” Keeho said, just above a whisper. “Do you want me?”

You nodded before you could give it too much thought. The grin that lit up Keeho’s face made everything worth it.

“Then, can I kiss you?” He was still talking quietly, his lips close enough that the barest of movements would have closed the distance.

You moved to nod again but Keeho shook his head. “Words, baby. Need to hear you say it.”

“Please,” you answered, ready to cross that point of no return.

He smiled and leaned in. There was no turning back.

Keeho kissed gentler than you were expecting. The way he always threw himself into everything he did is also how you thought he would start off with this, but he was set on taking his time. His lips moved against yours slowly, almost like he was trying to commit how you felt to memory. As if he may not get another chance like this and wanted to make the most of it.

Kissing Keeho felt good. It felt great, even. But most of all, kissing Keeho felt right.

You tried to wrap your arms around his neck but had some trouble due to the angle. He took the hint to resituate the two of you, all while his lips never left yours. The new position had Keeho hovering on top of you, resting one forearm on the bed while the other hand still made itself at home on your neck. When you threaded your hand through his hair, you could sense the shift.

He kissed you with more urgency now, his hand starting to wander down lower. When you felt his fingers softly brush against your thigh, you couldn’t control the noise you let out.

Keeho groaned in response. “Fuck, you sound so pretty. Always figured you would.”

He started trailing more kisses down your neck as you let out a laugh. “So you’ve pictured this before?”

Keeho looked at you with a face that could only be saying ‘Are you kidding me?’ You responded with an eyebrow raise, wanting him to answer you with words.

“Of course I have.”

Oh. Well that was a bit more honesty than you were expecting right out the gate.

“I’ve pictured this, dreamt about this…,” he trailed off to drag his lips up closer to your ear, voice lower as he continued, “gotten off thinking about this."

You gasped, feeling Keeho smile against your neck at his ability to pull another reaction out of you.

“I’d ask you the same question, but I think I already know the answer.” His tone sounded teasing, but you could tell he really was curious. You felt it was only fair to give him what he wanted.

“I…may have thought about this a time or two.”

The speed with which Keeho lifted his head almost had you reeling. His eyes were wide as he simply asked, “Really? You’re not fucking with me, are you?”

“Cross my heart.” You did the motion with your hand, drawing an imaginary ‘X’ over your chest. This was something that meant a lot to both of you growing up, and it definitely wasn’t something either of you said lightly.

At your admission Keeho dove in to kiss you again, lips moving almost hungrily, his hand now gripping your thigh.

His fingers moved subtly but still didn’t inch higher yet, despite how much you wanted them to. It dawned on you then that Keeho may be hesitating.

“Kee?” You pulled back from him and placed a hand on his cheek, watching as he evened out his breathing from the attack he’d just launched on your mouth.

“Is something wrong,” you continued, since you wanted him to feel comfortable if either of you were going to do anything even remotely past this point.

Keeho shook his head but his eyes said otherwise. Before you could ask him to elaborate, he beat you to it.

“It’s not that something’s wrong. Things couldn’t be more right than they are now, in my opinion.“ His last sentence was almost mumbled out, like you weren’t supposed to hear it.

“I just… need to know. Before this goes on.” His tone was serious, eyes set again with determination. “What does this mean to you?”

The question took you off guard. “What do you mean?”

“You know how I feel, what this,” he gestured between the two of you in the little space that was still left, “means to me. I need to know if it’s the same for you.”

You weren’t sure how much of you ‘knowing how he felt’ was true, because you’d just learned recently that he had a crush on you. Initially, you thought that maybe this was just about sex and not much more than that, crush be damned. Keeho just seemed like that might be what he preferred - no attachment, no feelings.

For fuck’s sake, you didn’t even know if he was dating anyone. Hell, he hadn’t even asked you if you were dating someone.

You both had just kinda jumped into this because the moment felt right, but you were having second thoughts now.

“Wait,” you tried to lean back and put more distance between the two of you. Keeho looked hurt for a moment but masked it quickly - something you knew him to (unfortunately) be good at. His hand left your thigh and he waited for you to go on.

“Are you involved with anyone?”

“Involved?” Now Keeho was confused instead. “Involved like- oh. No, I’m not. The fuck?”

You almost raised your hands up in defense but thought it better that you didn’t. “Just making sure! I wasn’t sure what your relationship status was these days.” You crossed your arms and looked to the side.

Keeho called your name to pull your attention back to him.

“Do you actually think I would have driven beside you on the sidewalk during a thunderstorm, let you stay in my apartment, and initiate any of this if I was dating someone?”

He had a good point. Even still, it’s always good to check.

“Before you answer, it’s a trick question because yes, I would do those first things without hesitation because I care about you. What I wouldn’t do,” Keeho moved closer, once again limiting the distance that kept you apart, “is this.”

He tilted your chin upwards and his lips brushed against yours softly. It was just once, but once was enough to convey what he was trying to say.

“And I didn’t think to ask you the same because I knew as soon as I was blunt with you I‘d find out. There’s no way you’d be down to mess around with me while you’re not single.”

Another good point from Keeho. He really was throwing you for a loop tonight.

You swallowed audibly, his stare making you feel squirmy. “Right, ok, um- glad that’s settled then.”

“You still haven’t answered my question, though.”

You knew he was right, you couldn’t keep avoiding it. But what did this mean to you? The only thing you could think of at the moment was what finally ended up leaving your mouth.

“I don’t think it means the same to me as it does to you.” It was like you could physically feel Keeho deflating in front of you. “But… that doesn’t mean it can’t with time.”

Why were you telling him that - what purpose did it serve other than to give him hope?

Before you could think about it too much, you watched as Keeho smiled so wide that it looked like it almost hurt. One day you might feel bad for the emotional whiplash you were putting this boy through, but today was not that day.

“I can work with that.” The words barely left Keeho’s mouth before he was again on top of you, now holding himself up with his forearms on either side of you. He was caging you in now, the only sound between you two being both your slightly accelerated breathing.

Keeho didn’t waste anymore time, moving in to kiss you with what seemed like all the feeling he could muster. His tongue slipped past the seam of your lips and you granted him access easily, just as eager to taste him as he was you.

Your hands flew up, one landing on the side of his neck while the other cradled his face. Keeho let out a small mmph against your lips at the movement, the sound sweet to your ears. It had you wishing to hear more, to hear every kind of sound Keeho could make with his pretty mouth.

Your lips still moved in sync with each other as you felt one of Keeho’s hands traveling down. It flitted across your ribcage on its way to its destination, making you move ever so slightly underneath him.

Finally, Keeho reached what he was looking for, still kissing you the entire time he’d been searching with his hand. He had a fistful of the shirt now in his grasp, pulling it up some at the bottom.

“You wearing anything under here?” Keeho sounded out of breath as he playfully skimmed his fingers along the hem of your - his - shirt. “Or was your intention to drive me crazy guessing the whole time?”

“Seems like a good idea to find out, hm?” Giving back what Keeho was dishing out; this you could do. As long as that was where you drew the line and you didn’t get too involved or too attached, you could do this and not overthink it.

His hand started to travel underneath the shirt, the touch light but purposeful, and within moments he had one of your thighs shaking at the sensation. You wanted to cover your face once you saw Keeho’s smirk but in your current position that proved impossible. So instead, you turned your head as far to the side as you could, making him laugh at your stubbornness.

“C’mon, baby, don’t be that way. I love seeing the effect I have on you.” He placed kisses on your neck before continuing, going all the way up to your ear. “And besides,” he tugged on your earlobe with his teeth, “there’s no way you can’t already feel what you’re doing to me.”

You shuddered as Keeho ground himself against you so you could feel how hard he was. The movement also caused him to groan right beside your ear, clearly taking him by surprise.

“Fuck, ok I didn’t think that through at all but you get my point. Guess I just can’t think straight when you’re under me like this.”

If this man didn’t stop talking to you like this-

You needed to shift this more in your favor.

“What about if I’m on top of you instead?” You asked him so sweetly and the way his eyes briefly closed didn’t go unnoticed by you.

The way Keeho scrambled to lie flat next to you on the bed had you laughing. He didn’t give you long to collect yourself though before he was tugging on your arm to pull you up on him. You situated yourself to where you were straddling Keeho, his hands immediately falling to your waist as if he was afraid to let you go.

The large tent in his sweatpants was hard to miss. You wanted to tease him more since you were the one with the upper hand now, so you very lightly brushed against him. Keeho’s hands gripped you harder, and you weren’t sure if it was involuntary or more of a warning.

“Is this ok?” You had to check before going further; despite all the moves he’d been making on you that you’d been reciprocating, neither of you had actually mentioned moving past this point yet.

“Is this ok,” he echoed your question. “You’re asking me if this,” he squeezed your waist for emphasis, “is ok?”

You simply nodded, skin starting to feel hot from his touch even if it was still just through the shirt.

Keeho chuckled. “What kind of fucking question- of course it’s ok! If you’re good, I’m good. So,” he moved your hips for you, making you brush against him again, “shit, what’s it gonna be?”

You took his hands that were still wrapped around you and placed them under the shirt you were wearing, right above your hips. Before he could even register what happened you leaned forward, feeling him harden even more underneath you.

“Whatever you want,” was your response as you captured his mouth in a heated kiss. Keeho’s hands traveled up and splayed across your back, pulling you in as close as you could get. You rubbed against him from your current position - still straddling but bent over on top of him - and you felt as his fingers started curling against your back. It was almost like he wanted to scratch down your back but was thinking better of it.

The little noises he let out against your mouth were driving you insane. At some point all of your movement had shifted you downward somewhat, and soon enough you felt him right against your core. The sensation was a lot stronger than you were expecting since you both were still clothed, and you couldn’t help the blatant moan that escaped your lips.

“Fuck,” Keeho pulled away from kissing you so you both could catch your breath. “Need that, more of that please.”

“What - this?” You were still moving your hips so you made sure that the next sound you let out was right by his ear, completely uninhibited. Keeho jerked underneath you, making him rub right against your clit through the thin layers of clothing that separated you.

Keeho tugged on the bottom hem of the shirt. “Can I?”

You sat up so he had better access to remove your shirt, leaving you in only your bra and panties once he tossed it aside. The way his eyes widened dramatically caused a funny feeling to flutter through your chest. He looked you up and down, hands on your legs moving mindlessly as he did.

“Wow,” Keeho sounded stunned. You tried not to let it go to your head, even though your face was heating up. “So much better than in my dreams.”

That made you laugh. “Glad to know I exceed expectations.”

“I knew you would. You’ve always been the type to blow everyone away.” Keeho’s smile and praise were making your chest feel odd again, like your heart was trying to do flips.

“Can’t believe I get to see you like this,” he pulled you closer and placed a kiss right above your collarbone. “Feel you like this,” his hands were on your back again, this time sliding up to where your bra could be unlatched.

A quick raise of his eyebrow was enough for you to know what he was asking. You nodded and he went to work, having a little trouble with the hooks at first, making you giggle at his focused face.

“Let me,” you offered as you reached behind yourself and undid the hooks in one seamless motion.

“What the fuck, how did you do that,” Keeho just kept staring at you baffled as you slid the bra straps down your arms. “No, seriously, how is that possible?”

You shrugged as you were holding the bra up by its cups now, not ready to reveal to him just yet. “Years of practice. It’s really not that impressive.” Before Keeho could protest, you asked another question since your curiosity was now piqued. “Wait, have you- have you never seen someone do that before?”

Keeho looked like he was actually thinking back on it. “Well…not that I can remember. But I also haven’t ever paid that much attention before.”

“Your usual hook-ups aren’t like this?” Kind of a weird question for you to ask the man you were currently trying to hook up with, but what’s the harm in asking, right?

“My usual hook-ups aren’t you.”

Oh.

That’s-

“Oh,” was your brilliant response. Keeho just smiled.

“Are you done asking me about my previous sex life now, or is there more you want to know? Curious about my stroke game, maybe?”

“Why are you like this,” you groaned, making him laugh. One of his hands rested soothingly against your thigh as he waited for your next move.

“Dunno - but you love that I’m like this anyway, so clearly it’s working.”

Since you couldn’t really argue with that, it was time to continue your mission you’d started before embarking on this small side quest.

“I’m not about to be the only one topless here.” You had removed one of your hands to grab at his tank top but the other one was still holding your bra in place. “Gonna help me change that?”

With no hesitation, Keeho did the stupidly attractive thing that guys do when they pull their shirts off by reaching behind them. You were met with the sight of Keeho and his bare chest within a moment, and honestly you weren’t sure what amount of time you would’ve needed to prepare for it.

Keeho was fucking hot. Full stop. You’d be crazy to deny it, no matter how much you didn’t want to inflate his ego.

You must’ve been ogling at him because soon enough he hit you with a “Like what you see?”

That smirk of his was lethal if you looked too long, so you rolled your eyes instead and placed your hand on one of his pecs. As you started to drag your hand down, you noticed how the speed of his breathing increased.

“Sensitive much?” You lightly brushed against one of his nipples, his movement then answering your question.

“Y-yeah, maybe a little bit,” Keeho was trying not to crack. “Also how is this fair now?”

You knew he was referring to your bra, so you let it drop. Once your chest was free, Keeho wasted no time in cupping one of your breasts.

“Pretty,” he mumbled as he squeezed one, cocky smirk plastered on his face as he continued. “What was it you said earlier - that you’re a ‘hard one to please��? Why don’t we test that theory?”

He gently closed his mouth around one of your nipples, keeping his eyes on you the whole time. He flicked his tongue against it, making you almost cry out at the feeling. Your hands flew to his hair, tugging ever so slightly like you were trying to keep yourself grounded.

Keeho lapped his tongue around you a few more times and you started squirming in his lap. The way you were rubbing right up against him fueled you to try harder, each move pulling you closer to the point of no return. Your panties were soaked and clinging to you, meaning you could really feel him almost as much as you would if your last bit of clothing were gone.

“Kee- Keeho,” you moaned his name when you felt one of his hands brush against your inner thigh. The resulting grunt he let out had you moving faster in his lap, eager to coax more sounds out of him.

He pulled off of you then with a small pop, lips still wet with spit as he stared at you.

“Fuck, I was not ready for that, holy shit.” Keeho ran a hand through his hair, brushing it out of his face before it fell back into place. The black and blue strands were even more captivating up this close, with the warm light from the lamp washing over the both of you. “Never knew my name could sound so good coming from someone else.”

“You wanna see if you can make it happen again,” you taunted him as you placed both hands on his cheeks to pull him in for a kiss. You felt his smile against your lips, enjoying the peaceful moment before a spark of pleasure shot through you.

Keeho was grabbing a bit rougher at your breast now than he had before, brushing your nipple with his thumb while you kissed. “Don’t worry,” he added as his unoccupied hand started moving closer to where you wanted him most. “I have no doubt I can make you say my name again.”

He stopped at the edge of your underwear, silently asking you again with his eyes if he could continue. You gave him another nod, probably a bit too eager if his chuckle was anything to go by.

Instead of going up under the clothing like you expected he might, he stroked against the outside first, placing pressure amongst one of the wetter spots.

“Shit, can already tell that you’re soaked. Maybe I do have some game after all,” Keeho was egging you on as he placed more pressure and moved his fingers in a circular motion. Unfortunately for you, it was right on your clit, so the stimulation was overwhelming.

“I swear to god if you don’t stop talking about your game-” you cut yourself off with a moan.

“What was that,” Keeho’s tone was so hot, you couldn’t even be bothered about him teasing you this way. “I couldn’t hear you over how much game I have.”

“Keeho,” you whined out his name, starting to grow impatient. You almost thought you could feel him twitch underneath you, but that would’ve been hard to tell since he was still wearing sweatpants.

“There she is,” he said it like he was praising you for doing a good job on something. “My name sounds so pretty when it’s coming from you.” He trailed kisses down your neck, stopping once he got to your breast again. A devious smile before he gave your nipple another small flick with his tongue.

“Can’t wait to hear you scream it later,” was the only warning you got before Keeho started making you see stars.

He pushed your panties to the side and shoved two fingers into you from the jump, the slide easy because of how absolutely fucking drenched you were. His other arm closed around you, pulling you closer which in turn pushed his fingers further inside. That combined with the way he was ravishing your breast - sometimes even biting your nipple gently - had you approaching your high much faster than you’d like to admit.

How was this man making you fall apart with just two fingers and his tongue? You hadn’t even seen his dick yet and here you were, shaking and moaning in his lap like you had absolutely no control over it.

The power of Keeho, you guessed.

The way he curled his fingers inside of you had you trembling, sounds kept tumbling out of you and mingled with the ones you could barely hear coming from him.

“Kee- Kee, wait.” You hated to stop him but you refused to cum like this. You needed something more - even if you weren’t sure what it was that you needed.

Keeho stopped moving his fingers but kept them inside of you, making you clench around them. He pulled his mouth off of you and answered with a “Hm?”

“Don’t wanna cum so soon,” you were slightly breathless. The way his face lit up at your words made that feeling in your chest constrict again.

“Wha- already? Wow, I’m doing way better than I thought I would at this point.”

That got your attention. “How did you think you were going to do?”

Keeho opened his mouth, shut it, then paused before he opened it again. “I don’t know, I never thought I’d get this far.”

He didn’t give you long to ponder over the familiar quote before he slowly started pumping his fingers in and out again, this time adding a third one to the mix. You’d thankfully calmed down some but he’d have you at the brink again in no time if you didn’t stop him.

“Keeho-”

“I’m right here, baby. Need to know what you want me to do,” a rough kiss before he continued, “how you want me to make you cum.”

You were about to put a muzzle on this man if he didn’t stop saying things that made your heart beat at an irrationally fast pace.

“I don’t know, just- not like this. You pick,” you handed the control back over to Keeho before realizing what you’d just done.

“You sure you want that?”

You nodded, eyes shut as you clenched around his fingers again. He slowly pulled them all the way out, leaving you immediately missing the feeling of having him - well, a part of him - inside of you.

“I just want you,” your eyes opened again as you answered him with conviction. “You choose, Kee.”

Keeho gulped. For the first time that night, it looked like he was at a loss for words. Instead of offering you an answer, he chose to put his fingers in his mouth. Keeho closed his eyes as he tasted you, the sight mesmerizing as he appeared to get lost in it.

“Fuck, you taste so good. God,” he lowered his voice as his eyes travelled down to where you were now uncovered, “it would fucking drive me crazy if I had it all the time, I’m calling it now.”

The idea flashed through your mind for barely a second before you were shoving it down into the deepest crevices of your brain.

Did Keeho want to do this again? Furthermore, did he want to keep doing it? Was this really the good idea you thought it was before all of this started kicking off?

Keeho’s voice pulled you out of your nearly-started spiral.

“Hey, you good there?” He was waving one hand in front of your face. “Was it what I said?”

“No, I’m good. Just wasn’t expecting that.” You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but you weren’t sure if he believed it or not.

“Sorry, I get kinda stupid with the shit I say when I’m pussy drunk. But also - I meant every word.”

This man was going to be the death of you somehow.

You tried to change the subject. “Aren’t these pants uncomfortable?” You palmed at the bulge that was straining against the fabric, resulting in an immediate reaction from Keeho.

“Fuck, ha, I mean they’re not the most comfortable, if you wanna take ‘em off we can-”

You shimmied back some so you were more-so straddling his thighs instead of his lap. With one more nod from Keeho you started to pull his sweatpants down by tugging on the waistband. You thought you had at least another layer of clothing between you and his dick after that but surprise, surprise.

Keeho was going commando. The small gasp you let out made Keeho cover his face with his hands for a second as he groaned into them.

“Care to explain?”

“Ok look, I thought I was sleeping on my own so I decided fuck it, why not. And then when you asked me to stay with you, I never thought this of all things would happen so it’s not like- I definitely didn’t plan this if that’s what you’re asking-”

You wrapped a hand around him to get him to stop and he shut up instantly. The power of that move might’ve gone to your head a little bit.

It dawned on you then just how big Keeho was. Like - he was packing. Talk about exceeding expectations. You could fit your whole hand around him, but you felt the fullness when you started stroking him.

“Fuck, uh, ok uh, do you want to do this or-” Keeho’s tongue darted out to lick his lips. “I was trying to make you cum so like, don’t worry about me, ha.”

“Well I’m not going to be the only one cumming, I can assure you of that.” You picked up your pace a little bit, relishing in the moan Keeho let out.

“Fuck, fuck, ok. Ah-”

With every sound that escaped Keeho’s lips, you could feel yourself aching to be full again. For now, though: this was way more entertaining.

“You’re so sensitive,” you said it more to yourself than anything else, but Keeho still heard and scoffed as if to say ‘No shit.’

“Yeah, the girl I’ve had a crush on for who knows how long now has her hand wrapped around my dick, nothing to be sensitive about at all.”

Ouch. Your chest was doing the flippy thing again. You didn’t get a chance to respond before Keeho’s hand was wrapping around yours, making you stop your movement.

“Kee?”

“Can we, um- listen, you can totally say no, but I wanted to… try something.” Keeho was throbbing in your hand as he spoke, and you thought then that there probably wasn’t anything he’d suggest that you wouldn’t be down to at least consider.

“Depends on what it is, but probably yes.”

Keeho blinked in surprise. “Oh, shit. Well, wasn’t expecting that before I’ve even told you, but- ok, here goes. Can you move up a little for me?”

You did as he asked, now back in your original spot on his lap, his dick basically trapped under where you sat. He placed both hands on your hips and tried to move you forward some more. Confused, you went along with it until you were almost sitting on his chest.

“Keeho, what-”

He laughed, squeezing now at your thighs instead of your hips with how far he’d managed to push you up. “Was wondering how long it’d take before you figured it out.”

You had indeed not yet figured it out. “Okay…?”

Keeho smiled. “God, you’re adorable.”

His next response was not quite what you were expecting (although it definitely made sense in hindsight).

“Wanna sit on my face?”

“O-Oh,” was all you could think to say at the moment. “I mean… yes?”

“Sounds a little too much like a question rather than a confirmation for me. Need to know what you want, baby.”

There he was with the pet name again. His voice was comforting, though, and it gave you the courage to finally answer for real. “I want to try.”

Keeho grinned and you were so fond of this man. “Come on up here, then,” he patted the top of his chest, letting you know exactly where he wanted you to sit.

Face-sitting wasn’t something you’d ever really been super excited about. One, because you’d never really had an enthusiastic partner for that kind of activity before and two, the idea made you nervous. Do you sit down completely? Are you supposed to hover? What the fuck do you actually do-

“I can hear you overthinking from down here,” Keeho so helpfully supplied. “Once you’re up here, I’ll handle the rest.”

You trusted him. This was Keeho; he had no reason to lead you astray on this. Especially since it looked like he was vibrating enough with excitement from you even entertaining the idea in the first place.

You managed to get your soaked panties off without much trouble before you scooted closer to where he had indicated, hovering over him at first. Keeho gently lowered you down, wrapping his arms around the outside of your thighs once you were seated. His fingers were just barely able to touch your inner thighs from this angle, and you knew he would probably use that to his advantage if he could manage it.

“Hey, relax. Can feel how tense you are.” Keeho placed a kiss on the inside of your thigh that he could reach, the action making you shiver in his hold. “I do need you to come up a little more, though.”

“Are you sure?” The nervous tinge to your voice couldn’t be helped.

“Yes, baby. How else am I gonna get to taste you properly if I can’t get my mouth on you?”

You took a deep breath before moving again. Your thighs were caging in Keeho’s head now, and the gaze he held was absolutely predatory. This man looked like he wanted to devour you and you just might fucking let him.

If this was the only night that you could have with Keeho this way, you’d better make it count.

“Let me know if you wanna stop at any time.” Keeho gave you one last sweet smile before his tongue slipped past your folds.

Now, you weren’t expecting to be disappointed by any means - Keeho was clearly skilled if he’d suggest something like this. You anticipated it would feel good and maybe change your opinion on the whole act itself.

What you didn’t expect was for Keeho to have you shaking on top of him in less than a minute. Every single reaction your body was having, he knew just how to counter it.

Didn’t know what to do with your hands? Keeho placed them in his hair, even tugging a little for you so you knew he didn’t mind. Didn’t want your hips to move too much and cause you to shift too far up? Keeho had you, making sure you stayed in place where you could still grind against him without moving too far. The way he ravaged you had you falling apart in the best way possible, and his commentary didn’t do much to help that either.

“Taste so fucking good,” Keeho spoke in between licks, making sure to not to deprive you of him for too long. “My dreams were never as good as this, shit.”

“You’ve - fuck - dreamt about this?” Your hands were twisted in his hair, each tug pulling a soft moan from him underneath you, and you could feel the sound against your core.

“I’ve had dreams of you doing so many things that it’s actually a little embarrassing,” his words were slightly muffled but you got the gist. “So: I’m pleading the fifth on that one.”

Your laughter that started quickly formed into a sharp gasp. Keeho’s tongue was now inside of you. You could feel him tracing it along your walls where he could reach, not even daring to look down and see how close to you this had made him. It felt like he was leaving handprints on your thighs now from how hard he was gripping you.

You chanced looking down to see if your suspicion was correct and nearly came on the spot. Keeho’s fingers were holding onto you so fiercely that marks had already started forming.

Looking at his face proved to be even more lethal: Keeho looked like he wanted to consume you, to eat you whole. His siren eyes burned into yours, holding your stare while he left you craving more. You saw as he made a show of showing you his tongue before he started focusing on your clit.

“Keeho, fuck, Kee-” you were full on grinding against him now, his tongue flicking your clit at a faster pace after your reaction. One of your hands left his hair to be placed on the wall in front of you; you didn’t trust your legs not to give out any second now, so you needed all the stability you could get.

“That’s it, baby,” Keeho’s breath sounded labored as he spoke. “Keep going. Use me, make yourself feel good.”

Holy shit, the mouth on this man - both verbally and physically. You couldn’t tell which one was able to fuck you up more when he was using both tactics at the same time.

Everything continued the same way for a bit with Keeho alternating between his tongue tricks. At one point, though, he took you by surprise by biting down on the inside of your thigh.

“Fuck!” Your eyes had been closed at that point so you quickly looked down to see what the hell had gotten into him. The bite didn’t hurt really, but it definitely caught you off guard.

He was smiling, lips and chin absolutely covered. “Wanted to see you,” was his simple response. “You haven’t looked at me in a while, need to know I’m still doing good.”

“Fuck, so good, feels so fucking good, Kee,” you wanted to reassure him, but the absolutely heavenly moan he let out in response gave you a power trip like no other. You were still looking down at him, biting your bottom lip now to try and stifle your own sounds so you could hear more from him.

Apparently you didn’t have to wait long, because soon enough Keeho started getting louder. You could feel each one of noises against you as he tried to continue licking your clit. His eyebrows were furrowed and his eyelids kept fluttering shut before he attempted to train his eyes on you again. It looked like he was losing a little bit of his rhythm - it still felt fucking otherworldly (no, you were not down bad, not at all) but there was definitely a slight hitch in his motions.

Then you were able to pinpoint the reason why. One of Keeho’s hands was missing from its rightful place on your thigh, and you could feel movement from behind you that you hadn’t noticed before. You turned your head as much as possible to see that Keeho was jerking himself off at the same time as he was eating you out. Your hand that was still twisted in his hair gripped harder, making him groan and start to stroke himself faster.

“Oh fuck.” Something about that entire scene was enough to almost throw you over the edge. You were shaking so much now that you were a little shocked Keeho hadn’t asked you to hop off his face yet. If anything, you spurred him on to press himself closer to you, adding more force with his tongue and a pressure to your clit that hadn’t been there before.

The new pressure, his noises rising in pitch, and his continued staring at you like he wanted to wreck you was what finally got you there, too fast for you to even try and give him a warning. All you could do was moan out his name, relishing in the way his eyes rolled back at the sound.

He kept up his ministrations throughout your orgasm, only stopping when you whined from the sensitivity. You tried to move away from his face but his hand that was still holding onto you grabbed your leg harder.

“Please, fuck, don’t-” Keeho gasped, still stroking himself. “Don’t move yet. Just- stay here.”

“But you haven’t-”

“I know, ah, it won’t take long now though. Especially seeing you,” he broke off to moan and kick his head back, “like this.”

You thought about it and almost gave in to what he wanted, but you wanted to do more than just sit there and let him continue to do the majority of the work.

“Kee?”

“Shit- yeah?” His fingers were digging in the flesh of your thigh, the feeling still somewhat managing to arouse you after you were still coming down from before.

“Let me help. Please?”

“God, not the begging- you are helping, way more than you think. You don’t need to do anything else, baby.” Keeho smiled from underneath you.

“But what if I want to do something else,” you tried using your most seductive tone, hoping it wasn’t too much. Keeho didn’t seem put off by it in the slightest, so you kept going.

“Ha, well, I’d probably let you do whatever you wanted to be honest.”

You filed that info away for later - if there ever was a later.

“What if I wanted to suck you off instead?”

Keeho stared at you like you’d grown another head.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard that right- you wanna do what?”

You giggled. “Gonna let me make you feel good, Kee?” You accentuated your words by sticking your tongue out at the end. His eyes widened when he finally seemed to get it.

“Oh what the fuck- yeah, no, that’s uh, sounds great actually.” Keeho was panting in between every few words, clearly close but still holding on. Which was great for you, because if you didn’t get this man’s dick in your mouth soon, you were probably going to scream.

Keeho helped you lift yourself off of him, being careful to not fall as you moved down the bed since your legs were still wobbly. You pulled his sweatpants the rest of the way off, letting Keeho watch you as he continued getting himself off.

As you settled yourself in between his legs, you wanted to tease him a little bit. You gently stroked along the inside of one of his thighs, mostly because you wanted to see if it’d make him squirm, but also as a little payback for what your own thighs had been through. “How’s this, Kee?”

The reaction was immediate, his thighs tensing under your touch. “It’s, uh, yeah.”

“Let me know if you wanna stop at any time,” you repeated his words from earlier as you took him into your own hand again, moving his away. It landed limply beside him on the bed, but you wagered that soon it would be occupied with something else.

You wasted no time in running your tongue along his cock, taking notice of which places seemed to be most sensitive (luckily for you: the answer was all of it). Once you finally wrapped your lips around him, Keeho let out a punched sound that turned into a groan.

“I’m not gonna last long at all, shit.” Keeho tried to look at you but his head was immediately falling back onto the pillow. “Can’t look at you, really fucking want to, but I wanna last longer than 5 seconds.”

“That’s ok, baby,” you tried out the pet name on him this time, loving the way he twitched in your hand. “Do what feels best.”

“Fuck, uh- are you sure?” Since you didn’t have your mouth back on him yet, he chanced looking down at you again. He fared a little better this time but not by much. “I can sometimes get kinda, uh, carried away.”

“As in…?” You wanted him to be the one to say it. You wanted him to tell you what he wanted, or better yet, show you what he wanted.

Keeho got the hint, finally placing one of his hands in your hair. He gave it a small tug, almost experimentally, and smirked at the small gasp you let out.

His other hand wove its way into your hair, and you felt him twitch again.

“You ready?” He looked like he was about to explode from holding himself back. You responded to him in the best way you could think of: you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue as much as you could.

Keeho’s eyes rolling back were the last thing you saw before he guided himself back into your mouth. His pace was fine at first, but it picked up in speed rather quickly, his hands tightening in your hair as he controlled everything that was happening.

“God, I can’t-” you heard him gulp for air, “can’t believe I’m actually doing this with you. To you.”

You moaned around him, the vibrations flowing through his cock and making him cry out in return. He started pushing you down further, making you gag now but never pushing too far for it to be a problem. Your throat constricting around him must have been what he needed to finally let go, because after that it was just unfiltered thoughts from then on.

“Look so fucking pretty like this, letting me- ah, letting me f-fuck your face.” One of his hands detangled from your hair so his thumb could brush across your cheek, catching a tear you hadn’t realized was falling down. “And you’re crying too, holy shit-”

If you had the energy you honestly probably would’ve tried getting yourself off again because seeing Keeho fall apart like this was one of the hottest things you’d ever seen. But you wanted to focus all your attention on Keeho. Nothing on the brain, just Keeho.

He moaned loudly when you hollowed your cheeks more around him. “Just wanna- ruin you, wanna wreck you for anybody else.”

Oh. Where was that coming from all of a sudden? And why did you like it so much?

“But I also, fuck, wanna take care of you.” A harsher thrust this time, making you gag hard enough to almost choke. The panic that seized you for the briefest of moments - you didn’t know if that’s what caused it, or if it was his words.

He wanted to take care of you? What the fuck did that even mean?

Before you had much time to contemplate it, Keeho started moaning more frequently, barely able to get full words out now as his high was approaching.

“Fuck, I’m- close. Close, so if you don’t want me to cum in your mouth, ha now’s the time to m-move.”

You squeezed his legs as if to encourage him to just let go. Your only goal right now was to swallow down everything this man was about to give you - moving was not on your list. Keeho’s hand that had left your hair was now gripping the bedsheet, making a flexing motion every few seconds like it wanted something different to hold onto.

In a daring moment of bravery, you reached up one of your hands to intertwine with his own. What you heard in the next few seconds would likely stick with you the rest of your life (and probably haunt your dreams very often).

The moment your fingers were laced with his, Keeho’s head snapped up and he looked at you with wild eyes before drifting his sight to where your hands connected. You gave his hand a light squeeze and that was it. The sound he let out was almost loud enough that you mildly worried about him getting a noise complaint, but you also decided you didn’t give a shit, not when he sounded like this.

“Ah, I’m cumming, oh my god, fuck,” was the only warning you got before warmth flooded your mouth. You tried your best to swallow everything, but there was so much that some unfortunately spilled out of your mouth. Keeho continued making noise throughout, a mixture of something that sounded like your name with the moans that you were now - slightly - used to.

You decided to spare the poor man and not push him to the brink of sensitivity like he’d done to you. Plus, you needed to get the rest of his cum down your throat so you had other matters to attend to.

When you were done cleaning your face of any remaining cum, you licked around your fingers to get every last drop. A soft ‘shit’ got your attention and you looked up to see Keeho staring at you.

He had managed to push himself up to where he was sitting now, back against the headboard. “That’s so hot, what the fuck.”

You giggled before shrugging. “Be a shame to let all that go to waste, don’t you think?”

“Uh, I can’t really think much of anything right now other than just ‘what the fuck,’” Keeho’s smile was a bit lopsided and he clearly looked like he was still recovering.

Against your better judgment, you crawled back up the bed to where you were beside Keeho. He gave you a confused look but his gaze softened when he saw you lifting one of his arms. You rested your cheek against his chest and his arm was around you. He started tracing soothing patterns on your arm as you shifted yourself to get comfortable.

You’d already crossed a major line - what was a little cuddling gonna do to make it worse?

Pushing that thought away with all the others you’d smacked into some other regions of your brain, you noticed when Keeho wrapped both arms around you, enveloping you in his warmth. You could’ve fallen asleep right then and there - had he not placed a kiss on the crown of your head.

“This ok?” His voice was low, soft. You wondered if you maybe even detected some nervousness.

“It’s nice,” you answered truthfully. You’d probably hate yourself in the morning, sure, but why try to cut this feeling short now? You finally allowed yourself to wonder what it would be like if you actually gave all this a chance.

The more you thought about it, though, the more you felt something akin to ice flowing through your veins. You felt frozen, stuck - like what you were doing now was wrong and should definitely not be happening. You made up your mind that once Keeho was asleep and you could move freely without waking him, you were getting the fuck out of there. You weren’t sure how long you’d been laying there before Keeho spoke up again.

“Hey,” he muttered, “I’m glad you stayed tonight.”

Another icy shard in your chest.

“And not just because - well, you know - but because I know you’re safe and not outside scared or freezing in the storm.”

“Me too,” you again answered him truthfully, because you meant every word. You were glad you stayed and you wanted to continue to stay. But all the alarm bells going off in your head were starting to win out over rational thinking.

You needed to get out of here. But you couldn’t leave now. Not when Keeho would know.

Not when he would know that you weren’t able to let yourself feel for him the same way he felt for you.

“Hey, Kee?” You somehow managed to talk around the lump in your throat.

“Hm?” He sounded like he was dozing, and you could tell from the slow way his chest was rising and falling that he was content.

“I’m not sure if I can sleep like this,” you lied. “Would it be ok for us to sleep how we were planning to in the beginning?”

“Yeah, whatever you want. As long as you’re comfortable.” That same lazy smile was waiting for you when Keeho lifted his arms. He helped you get back on your side of the bed (you weren’t going to think about the implications of that right now) and even got the blanket from earlier to drape over you again.

“Tea is still in there if you decide you want any,” Keeho yawned as he laid down and shimmied under some of the blanket so you both were sharing. “It’s not going anywhere, so just get some if you want. But also,” another yawn, “it’s not required during your stay.”

“When did this suddenly become a hotel,” you tried to joke, but it didn’t quite land. Thankfully, Keeho was too close to sleep to really notice. All you got from him was a soft chuckle before he breathed deeply.

“Goodnight. I’m right here if you need me.” Keeho told you this as he was turning to face the other way, probably trying to make sure you weren’t overwhelmed after everything that had just transpired.

“Goodnight,” you responded barely above a whisper. You almost didn’t breathe for the next few minutes, straining to listen for the moment that Keeho was sound asleep. After you heard him snoring softly, you waited a few minutes and started moving slowly toward the side of the bed. When you finally deemed it safe enough, you got up carefully and placed the blanket back down without causing too much movement. Keeho didn’t even budge, and the last look you threw his way was enough to plunge that icy dagger further into your heart.

You gathered up all your clothes as quietly as you could. As much as you hated putting your soaked clothing back on, the idea of staying in this apartment any longer made you feel worse. You ordered an Uber while you were trying to get back into all your clothing, thankful that there were still some running this late.

The doorknob leading out of the apartment felt cold underneath your hand when you went to turn it, the sound suddenly so loud in the otherwise peaceful, quiet room. You opened it without thinking too much more on it and closed it as softly as possible beside you. Once you were far enough away from the apartment, you just started running.

You needed to put as much distance between you and Keeho as possible, and luckily for you, your Uber pulled up right as you were making your way down the corridor that led outside. You got inside the car and inhaled shakily. The last thing you could think to do to try and put this behind you for now was take out your phone and send a single text to Keeho.

[you] 2:34 AM: i’m sorry.

i am also sorry, dear reader - there will be more to come for these two though! thank you so so much for reading, i hope you really enjoyed it~ 💜

(stormy divider used in this post is from HERE)

[starlightazriel]

bee 9

series desc: modern best friends > lovers (fem reader) tattoo artist az

warnings: 18+, az acting crazy and toxic haha, arguing/angst, just the beginning of the groveling, simp behavior hahaha, drug/alcohol addiction, reader struggling, heart break, time jumps, aa, depression mess, az is literally falling apart at the seams, don't expect good decisions from reader lol she's hurting that's all ima say

a/n: wow I know I ain't shit this took me so long I'm sorry angst central too ik

wc: 3.8k

other parts can be found on my az masterlist <3

nine

"Say the word Bee, I'll knock on his door and knock him out." His jaw was tight, eyes dark with the desire to inflict pain. Real pain, sometimes that side of Azriel scared me, these days it would only make my panties wet.

"Im fine Az," I wiped tears from my face with the back of my sleeve, my chest tightened slightly at his willingness to put himself at risk for my naivety. "Hes not worth it anyway," I added, trying desperately to swallow the lump in my throat.

"Well that youre right about. Tried to tell you he didnt deserve you," he pauses, his face looking displeased. There's a moment of silence and it made me wish I had the courage to fill it with my feelings for him. "Please stop looking so sad though. Bings will help," he smirks, trying the only way he knew how to lighten the mood, he held up his bong, already freshly packed. I sighed softly, letting a small smile tug at the corner of my lips despite the ache I felt in my chest.

"Yeah they might," I smirk a little bit, and take the bong from him, taking one of my little baby hits, I shove the bong back in his direction, coughing obnoxiously despite the small hit. Normally he would make fun of me, I figured he was sparing me the embarrassment in light of the current situation.

"I can kick his ass," he repeats and I just shake my head at him. I didn't doubt it either— when it came to me, Az didn't have any limits. He would go down swinging for me, no matter who it was.

Thinking back on that memory... It made me feel sick, that now he was the one to hurt me.

I had made the mistake of trusting Azriel too much. I knew better. I knew he wasn't ready for this and still I let myself live in some little fantasy world for weeks. And now... Now I was dealing with the consequences.

My heart was shattered.

Incomparable to my insignificant couple of break ups in the past... This was so much worse.

Az... My Az. Maybe not my Az after all.

He clearly couldn't even handle a relationship.

Or maybe... The alternative made my stomach sink.

Maybe he knew the entire time that he was moving and he was just passing the time until he did? Az wouldn't do that... Would he?

You can know someone forever... As soon as there are drugs involved... Well, nothing is guaranteed.

It seemed to be just as hard for me to admit that he had a problem than it was for him. I hated it, but this pain— it made me see things more clearly, see him more clearly.

I couldn't bring myself to block him. I did have to turn my phone off for a while because not picking up was just becoming hard. 39 missed face time calls, 12 missed regular calls, and a handful of text messages that I was leaving on read.

baby please just talk to me

i'm so sorry shit was so fucking stupid

please come home

bee i swear i'll come over there and drag you out of that house by your hair

you know i didnt mean that

im sorry

i need you bee, don't shut me out

just talk to me

i'll stop drinking so much i'll do whatever please just fucking talk to me

cass is a fucking idiot nothing happened i swear baby i didn't fuck anyone.

The messages were spaced out minutes between some, hours between others. I couldn't help myself when I typed out a reply to the last one.

how do you know you didn't fuck anyone? do you even remember? You were getting your fucking grind on with a random ass bottle girl. or maybe she wasn't random lol who fucking knows with you. and you had your face in tits Az. Tits. WERE TOUCHING YOUR CHEEKS. AND YOU WERE SMILING LIKE YOU LOVED EVERY FUCKING SECOND. AND I BET YOU DID CUS YOU LOOKED HIGH OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND.

It was only seconds before he read it and was typing.

i didn't fuck anyone. i only want you. i'm just a dumbass. bro please do not do this shit to me. i will do ANYTHING to make this up to you that's on literally everything.

And another one.

you don't have a choice anyway and i swear if i catch you outside with any of these mother fuckers yo youre both done

And another.

its not a threat its a warning don't play with me

I groaned in frustration and tossed my phone to the side. It was all so... Exhausting. My chest quite literally hurt. And the audacity, please don't do this to him?

He did this to us.

And why the fuck did he think he owned me? I hated that it made my heart flutter— bottle girls, titties, Vegas. I reminded myself.

Sick.

I had confessed everything to my mom the first day I had came back to my parents house, which in hindsight I wished I hadn't. Knowing me... I would be back in Azriels bed within days of being back, my cheeks burned at the thought. No matter what he did, it didn't change the way I now knew how he could make me feel.

She had always loved Az, since day one... He had practically been a part of our family at one point, joining our family dinners every night, even my dad and him had a certain respect for each other. 'Some people are just better off as friends,' was my mom's response to the whole ordeal. Maybe she was right, but I didn't like it, not now.

How could we go back to that?

Was it possible to go back to that?

-

The stress, the heaviness of my heart... I couldn't stop myself from swiping a cig from my dad's secret stash in the garage. I was now sat on the rocking chair on my parent's front porch, debating on what I was going to do when I returned home. I had to go soon, it had already been weeks now I was starting to dip into my old wardrobe.

I had been commuting to class even though it was much farther than Azriel's apartment. I just didn't know what to say when I saw him. I didn't even know how to bring up the fact that I knew he was moving. Did he plan on telling me? What had been his plan for my living situation if he didnt have the apartment anymore? Had he even thought about it?

"So you're smoking now?" his voice causes me to jump, my heart nearly leaping from my chest as my head snaps to Azriel who's standing there, one hand shoved in his pocket other hand gripping a small bouquet of flowers. Scarred fingers against delicate stems, my cheeks turned pink remembering what he had done to me with those fingers. That feeling soon turned to anger remembering what he else he had done, he's frozen now, maybe half way up the stone path leading to my parents front door.

"Jesus Az what the fuck?" I breathed out, exhaling a shaky breath, my tone laced with a venom I had never used with him before. "You scared the fuck out of me, what are you even doing here?"

"You know what I'm doing here," his voice is soft but slightly strained, my stomach twists at the pain I can feel, radiating off of him. I didnt know how he did that, he was always able to change the air around me— like I was so hyper aware of him that I could sense his feelings.

"Az-"

"I love you," he cuts me off, my breath hitches, his cheeks are slightly pink, hand still shoved into his pocket. I set the burning cigarette down on the can beside me, I tried to swallow the lump forming in my throat.

So long.

I had waited to hear those words for so fucking long. And now, here, under these circumstances— it didnt feel how I imagined it would. It didnt feel how it was supposed to.

"I love you too Azriel you know I do but I-"

"But what? You dont want me because Im so fucked up right?" His voice drops slightly, his throat bobbing and I noticed his grip tighten on the bouquet in his hand. His face was soft— pained, and my heart cracked again, remembering that boy so many years ago bruised and bloody with that same heartbroken face of betrayal, and now I had done that to him. "Im sorry, Im so fucking sorry please—"

"I didn't say that," I mumbled, my heart felt like it was bleeding in my chest, like there would be nothing left once he walked away. He didn't dare to step closer. "I just- I need some time Az," I mumbled softly and he closed his eyes for a minute before tugging at his hair, huffing out a frustrated breath. He looked like he would get down on his knees for me, like he would beg me if I asked him to.

"I know what that means Bee," he huffs out another small breath, his face slowly contorting into that hard cold stare I knew him to hide behind. "Anyway," he breaths out, looking away from me. "I'm going to change your mind, we—" he struggles again before giving up, I could see his eyes were bloodshot as he got closer, dark circles prominently underlining them. "Here," he finally says, he shoves the bouquet in my hand, there was an envelope taped to the side of it with my name on it.

"I'm coming home soon Az," I mumble, though, I didn't even know if I was ready for the conversation the two of us would be having. "I told you we could talk then," I add and he sighs, stepping back off of the porch.

"I'll see you soon then," he muttered softly and just shrugged his shoulders, I could tell he wanted to run to me... He wanted to wrap me in his arms and kiss me. He wanted to strangle me also— I could see that too, that deep rooted need for control, to make me see things his way. I couldn't blame him— it stemmed from years of physical abuse, traumas I would never truly be able to understand.

"Go home Az. Goodnight, thank you, for the flowers," is the last thing I say before walking back inside shutting the door behind me, in his face. I didnt watch him walk away, that short conversation had been painful enough. I put the flowers in some water and tore open the mini envelope despite how angry I was with him.... Seeing him, made me crave him so much more.

'I could lose every single thing I have in this world but I can't lose you. I miss you. Please stop shutting me out. I can't take much more of this Bee.'

His handwriting was rushed— desperate messy scrawl, guilt twisted in my gut. I couldn't help it... I had nothing to feel guilty about and yet... Imagining him alone, needing me, missing me... Enough to buy flowers and scribble out a little note. More than I'd ever seen him do for any other woman.

I couldn't fall for it.

My chest tightened and tears welled up in my eyes. Why did he have to fuck everything up? It had been so perfect. Leave it to a fucking man to ruin everything.

-

Azriel swallowed the bile that rose in his throat as he stared blankly in front of him at all of the faces looking back at him. His palms were sweaty, ears hot with embarrassment and he couldn't stop tapping his foot. He had opted not to get up and stand at the front, feeling much more secure in his seat toward the back of the room.

"Hi, uh, my name is Azriel, I'm twenty five, and Im um— Im an alcoholic," it was the first time he'd ever said it out loud, it tasted horrible on his tongue. "I've um I've been addicted to drinking alcohol probably for about ten years- Got me into other- shit and I'm here today because I fell in love with my best friend and um- I don't want to lose her. Never tried to quit drinking before— never really believed I had a problem but— yeah, here I am," his voice had gotten quieter as he finished and he realized he was rambling. His cheeks burned, he hated all the eyes on him, hated that he was the center of attention. And he was craving a line, bad.

His introduction was followed by many 'Hi Azriels,' which only made him feel more uncomfortable. They tried to make him feel welcome, tried to relate to him— get him to open up. He thought he might explode but he listened though. He listened to each and every persons story that shared. And when it was over the leader gave him a small white chip, service, unity, recovery. A pledge to a new beginning, toward sobriety.

He sighed and shoved it into his pocket, he was sitting on the step now, to go coffee cup in his hand, black obviously. Isn't that what recovering alcoholics did? Drink black coffee and smoke cigarettes?

"Can I bum one?" a male voice asks and next thing he knows he's sitting down next to him, he was a bit older, maybe 40.

"Sure," he mutters and pulls a cigarette from the pack and extends it to him, he recognized him from inside the meeting.

"It's Max, if you didn't catch it in there."

"Azriel," he mumbles, looking straight ahead at the cars passing by. He didn't know how to feel. He didn't want to get sober. But he needed Bee. He couldn't lose her, after getting a taste? He couldn't handle not having her again. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"You need a sponsor?" he asks, raising an eyebrow, Azriel shrugs, the new sobriety coin felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket. The anxiousness... The insatiable desire to rid himself of any of his uncomfortable feelings by doing a line and buying a bottle... How the hell was he supposed to stay sane?

"You going to be my sponsor?"

"First things first, don't wear a cocaine vile around your neck to an AA meeting."

-

I was quiet, careful when I slowly pushed open the door to Azriels apartment, my apartment too, I guess. Not for long.

It didn't feel like home anymore— the sickening feeling that twisted in my gut as I took a step inside. It was quiet, he wasn't home... Fucking filthy. There was pizza boxes and take out containers, ash everywhere, multiple ash trays made from various things, there were unfinished cigs and blunts everywhere that made it smell awfully of cigarettes and stale weed. Cocaine residue and half crushed pills were out on the coffee table like it was normal. I swallowed thickly, a soft breath leaving my lips I knew I shouldn't feel guilty, shouldn't feel bad that he obviously wasn't okay... But I did, I just left him. Never, never had I ever done that to Azriel. I was the one constant in his life, the one person who was always there. Ever since that day in front of my house all those years ago.

Titties, bottle girls, moving to Vegas. I reminded myself, my stomach turned again. So angry. Fucking idiot.

I entered the kitchen for a glass of water, needing something to calm that sick feeling. The bile that rose in my throat that felt like I was about to hurl everything I ate for the past three days. I thought better of it quickly, before I consumed anything from this rancid kitchen I would need to deep clean and disinfect.

Dirty dishes in the sink, the dishwasher hanging open half loaded still with clean dishes like he had just been taking them from there and hadn't bothered to put anything away, empty liquor bottles overflowing from the small recycling bin, more take out containers, a bong tipped over, the foul smelling water from it still dripping off of the counter, a small puddle of brownish water collected on the white tile.

What the fuck?

My room was the only room that didnt smell like bong water and cigarettes, but still, he had been in here. Maybe even slept in here. Papers covered the floor, not just papers but drawings. There were drawings of me everywhere. Just me, me naked, him and I together, kissing, fucking, our hands intertwined— there were even drawings of us when we were younger. A little messy, like he had been pressing down so hard— drawing with such emotion that he kept breaking his utensil of choice that day.

I let out a soft sob, my hand flying to cover my mouth.

Fuck.

Kat. I needed Kat.

I tried to swallow the growing lump in my throat again and pulled my phone out to check her location. Of course she was at the shop.

-

"Hey," the bells chime softly as I walk into the shop, there was no one in the waiting room besides Kat and she looked up from her phone, our eyes locking.

"Heyyy baby," she greets, flashing me a smile that soon turns into a frown, her eyebrows drawing together. "Are you good?"

"No," I loosed a shaky breath, advancing to the counter, I leaned against it like I had so many times, but my chest was fucking aching. It was so fucking infuriating that nothing felt the same, nowhere felt the same. I guessed this was what heart break really felt like, seeing the world in every color one day and then black and white the next. "Is he here?" I dropped my voice lower, playing with one of the knick knacks on the desk to distract myself.

"No, he left a while ago, didnt say where he was going," she's still frowning, the worried look still plastered on her face.

"The house Kat?" I paused, making a face. "It's fucking disgusting, I don't understand how hes living like that," my harsh words could have only been brought on by anger, she softens, her look turning more sympathetic which annoys me only, I ignore it.

"He hasn't been the best at work either— snapping on everyone, late every day and fucked up," she lets out a small sigh, "Rhys is fucking pissed," she pulls her lip between her teeth.

"Fuck Rhys, honestly," I mutter quietly, she raises an eyebrow in response but I only ignore it. Of course, none of this was his fault, but still Vegas. Why fucking Vegas? "It's my turn to get fucked up, anyway, that's why I'm here I bought a bottle to pregame, just needed my bitch and one of her miniskirts," my words are met with a grin.

"Babes you know I got you."

-

I hadn't been drunk in a while, so to say the least I was enjoying myself. The pounding of the music, talking to strangers, dancing with Kat. I had needed all of this.

To slip out of my mind for a few hours and just let go.

Kat was definitely enjoying herself now too, and was dancing with some tall sexy man she had just met. I was keeping to myself for the most part, on the edge of the dance floor, swaying my hips to the music as I surveyed the scene with a fuzzy mind.

My mouth popped open in slight surprise and when I felt curiosity instead of the desire to leave immediately, I knew I had drank too much. There was Eris, in all his jewelry and expensive clothes, looking poised and composed as always. Long pale ringed fingers wrapped around a glass of amber liquid. I hadn't seen him since the night we shared.

"You ghosted me princess."

"I had other things going on— and I didnt finish," I smile boredly, not meeting his gaze, it must have been the liquor making me so bold, he scoffs slightly his eyebrows raising in surprise.

"Let me buy you a drink then, to make up for it, must have been an off day for me," he inquires, I wouldn't give him the satisfaction that my body was basically broken with anyone except for Azriel, I would let him believe it was his fault. His ego could be taken down a peg, anyway.

"I have one already," I raise it up slightly, smirking as I swirl the liquid around in the cup.

"Not anymore," in a swift motion he takes the glass from my hand and dumps the drink in a near by plant, a fake plant. I squeaked, looking around to see if anyone else had witnessed it.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? It's fake and you just filled it with liquor and juice! Have you even heard of a fruit fly?" I demanded, swaying a bit on my feet, liquor buzzing through my veins. If anyone did that at my bar, I scoffed slightly at the thought staring him down judgmentally for his utter carelessness.

"It's fake, so the liquor won't kill it," he flashed me his insufferable sexy grin before adding "there's wins and losses to every decision we make," his eyes flashed and I stopped for a moment, weighing those words.

No, I can't get caught up in this. I had to figure out what was going on with Azriel and I. "And now you don't have a drink and I get to buy you one, so I win, Im not really concerned nor do I care about any of the losses. Besides, I only ever come here looking for you, so I don't care if they get fruit flies." That cocky smirk he wore, the way he carried himself... He did look good. That piercing gaze, the confidence that radiated off of him along with his expensive dizzying cologne.

I remembered what Az had said about him 'theres a lot of people that would kill him in this city' hearing his words echo in my head, knowing how much he hated that I'd been with Eris... I swallowed, my cheeks turning pink.

Az didnt care when he was fucked up, when he was smushing his face between those two bottle girls titties he didnt think about me at home— waiting for him.

So I wouldn't care now.

I didnt think about him, I didnt think about what it would do to him when I wrapped my fingers up into Eris expensive shirt and yanked his tall frame down to me.

"Wins and losses you say?" I whisper before pressing a kiss to his lips.

-

a/n: cliffhangerrr only time and comments will tell if yalll are mad about this drama HAHA sorry I had to drag the groveling out into multiple parts Az WILL be on his KNEES in the near future

taglist <3: @smalljasper289 @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @scorpioriesling @userxs-blog @lilah-asteria @abadfantasybook @judeduartewannbe @lindsayscottagebythesea @velarisdusk @serxndipity-ipity-blog @julesvanslutta @honk4emoboyz @bookishbishhh @dakotali @blessthepizzaman @scooobies

IF ANYONES TAG DIDNT WORK IM SO SORRY

[thebenjiblackwoodexpress]

Devil's Snare part.5

Aemond Targaryen x reader

Description: Aemond introduces Y/N to his mother as his betrothed, much to the displeasure of Otto Hightower. The strength of their love for one another is tested by the whispers which spread throughout the court of the one-eyed Prince and his strange choice to wed his handmaiden. All the while, Aemond is insistent that Y/N meet Vhagar.

Previous part

Writer's note: I am so sorry this took so long! I had major writer's block and overthought the hell out of it. Its giving "started making it, had a breakdown, bon appetit" for the people who get that reference 😂. Also wanted to avoid HOTD content when the leaks happened. We finally get the wedding in this part so shout out to @ateliefloresdaprimavera this one's for you! Unsure whether you guys want this to continue into the dance of dragons plot, I might need to diverge from canon. I thought I'd do a Lord of the Tides part next as a test run.

Warnings: female reader, canon typical misogyny, slut shaming, Granny Vhagar (in the flesh this time), sexual innuendo but no smut (sorry, I just don't read it so don't think I could write it well), lengthy as always.

Y/N felt nervous butterflies fluttering against her ribcage as Aemond led her along the halls of the Red Keep to his mother's chambers, grounded only by the feel of his hand wrapped around hers. It was all she could do to keep putting one foot in front of the other, so anxious was she of the Queen's response to her son's decision to marry her, a mere handmaiden. But she could not bear to hold Aemond back any longer, not when his face glowed with such happiness. Besides, she did not think he'd allow her to go back on her word now she'd promised herself to him. He'd all but taken her breath away with the force with which he'd kissed her and grabbed her hand to pull her from his chambers almost immediately afterwards in his eagerness. She'd subconsciously halted where she stood, her thoughts panicked and frenzied as she realised the weight of her words and that Aemond really meant to waste no more time in informing his mother, the Queen herself. Aemond, however, was all too impatient to marry the girl he loved. 

Stopping as he felt her hand go limp in his he turned to her, assessing the panic on her face. Suddenly taking hold of her waist, he pulled her against him so that their bodies seemed to melt into one another, causing Y/N to blush a furious shade of scarlet as she felt the contours of his body against hers. Aemond smirked, always pleased he was able to have such an affect over her. "I'm afraid my patience has been entirely spent, my love. I can tarry no longer in making you my wife. I will carry you to my mother's chambers if I must." His hand tightened around her waist, not enough to hurt but enough to make her gasp as she realised he may actually be serious. Strengthening her grip on his hand, she stuttered out a semblance of a response. "That will not be necessary, My Prince." Aemond's eyebrows shot up at that. "I am no longer just Aemond to you?"

Y/N's blush deepened at her blunder, hoping she hadn't offended him in her state of nervousness. "I am sorry, my love. It just slipped out."

Aemond's face softened and he lightly trailed a hand across her face. "You have not called me that before." Y/N realised he was right. Aemond was so free with his affections, with terms of endearment, but this seemed to be the last layer of intimacy she had struggled to breakthrough. Y/N looked down, somewhat ashamed that she had been so slow to offer Aemond the love he gave so freely in return, feeling strongly that she did not deserve him. Her chin was tilted upwards by a gentle hand as Aemond brushed his lips against hers, the ghost of a kiss. "It matters not what you call me, only call me yours and I should be content." Y/N felt such a strong surge of love for Aemond in that moment, in light of his understanding of her difficulty expressing affection and his unfaltering patience with her nonetheless. She felt her nerves dissipate a little, and grabbing his hand more resolutely she led them from his chambers herself.

Aemond had been pleased Y/N had gone willingly, he had not been jesting when he told her he'd carry her to his mother's chambers. He knew that she loved him and it was only the opinions of others that concerned her, and Aemond could no longer allow such unfounded fears to delay their union. He wanted her and by the grace of the Seven she wanted him too. That was all that mattered to him now, and he was prepared to fight for the girl he loved, from any opposition they may face. Aemond strode purposefully towards his mother's chambers, having no care for the lateness of the evening, but slowed as he felt Y/N's grip loosen oncemore, looking back to see her tailing behind him. Sighing, he lowered his torso to meet her eyes. "Y/N I will put you over my shoulder. Unless you have decided you will not have me after all?" He hated the tinge of insecurity that laced his voice.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes wide with alarm. "That is not what I want. I wish to be your wife. I am only frightened of meeting your mother."

Aemond took hold of her elbows. "I assure you there is nothing to fear. She will love you in time as I do. I will not allow anyone to come between us."

"You sound so certain."

Aemond shot Y/N a roguish grin. "You can depend upon it. Come now." Reclaiming her hand he pulled them down the final corridor which led to his mother's chambers, addressing his mother's sworn protector before they'd even reached the end of the hall. "Ser Criston, I would speak with my mother."

Ser Criston's eyebrows pulled into a confused frown as his eyes flitted between the Prince's serious expression and the hand which clasped his handmaiden's. "The hour is late, my prince. Her grace is presently engaged with the Hand of the King."

Aemond startled slightly before schooling his features into a mask of calm, not wishing to alarm Y/N any more. He had not expected to contend with both his mother and Otto Hightower this night, but it mattered little. He had no intention of backing down on the matter of his marriage to Y/N, whatever the opposition.

"It is no matter Cole, my mother will be gladdened by the news I bring her."

Aemond was not certain of this fact, but he assumed an air of self-assurance nonetheless as he released Y/N's hand to pat Criston on the shoulder, pushing the door to his mother's chambers open.

His mother's eyes snapped up to him as he entered, Y/N shuffling in behind him whilst lightly clutching onto his tunic. He discreetly reached behind him to take hold of her free hand, hoping to provide her some degree of comfort. His mother looked flushed as if she had just been shouting and his good eye immediately sought out the object of her distress, landing on his grandsire Otto whose expression was one of irritation. Aemond narrowed his eyes at the scene before him, clearly he had interrupted an argument. He loved his mother and had never forgotten how she had been the only one to speak up for him and defend him on driftmark when he had lost his eye. Fixing Otto with a stern glare he returned his gaze to his mother. "Mother, I wish to introduce you to my betrothed. I have asked Y/N to marry me and, happily, she has agreed to become my wife." Aemond spoke with finality, he would not prevaricate or draw this out any longer than he needed to. An eery silence followed for an agonisingly long time before Alicent rose to meet Aemond, hands reaching out towards him. He regretfully released Y/N's hand to take his mother's proferred hands. She spoke softly as if to a young child who needed to be coaxed away from doing something dangerous. "Aemond, she is your handmaiden."

"She was my handmaiden, she is my lady now."

Alicent shook her head and closed her eyes, as if when she opened them again the image of Aemond and his handmaiden would only have been a figment of her imaginings. When she opened them and observed her son's determined expression, she blanched. "Aemond, you cannot mean to marry a servant. You are a Prince of the realm and you know it is your duty to marry for the benefit of the crown. I'm sure your handmaiden is lovely, but she is not a suitable marriage prospect."

Aemond's own tone sharpened. He misliked his mother talking as if Y/N was not standing right behind him, her own hand tightening on his tunic.

"Mother, I did not come to argue with you. The matter is settled. I love her and will marry no other. Would you deny me this happiness I have been fortunate enough to find, after all I have lost?" Aemond began to hope his mother was losing her resolve as her eyes softened, one hand reaching up to cup his cheek. But it was at that moment that Otto hightower broke his silence. "Will you truly entertain this nonsense Alicent?"

Then turning to Aemond, "Are you so foolish boy? Or have you got the girl with child? There are other ways of dealing with this than sullying your title with a marriage to a low born girl." Alicnet had to push against Aemond's chest as his face contorted in anger, taking a step forward towards his grandsire. He practically snarled in response. "I will not suffer insults to my betrothed or allow you to taint her honour with your vile assumptions."

Otto's anger only rose to match Aemond's as he shouted back at him. "It would be an embarasment for your family, for your House, for the crown itself. Do you care for nothing but your own base desires, boy?"

Aemond's voice was dangerously low and seething. "My love for Y/N is pure, there is nothing base about it. I'll thank you to watch your words, grandsire. I intend to serve my House dutifully with Y/N at my side. Am I not our House's strongest sword? Do I not ride the largest and most ancient dragon in the world?"

Seemingly writing Aemond off as a lost cause, he looked around the Prince to the girl cowering behind him. Perhaps she might be swayed to sense.

"Girl, you must know that this would be a disastrous match for the realm. I am sure you must feel something for the Prince. Would you not then see him ascend to his rightful position and marry for the good of the realm?

The girl's face turned disconsolate. Aemond lost his composure entirely, brushing past his mother and advancing on his grandsire, each word laced with venom. "Do not speak to her as if she were just an object to be dispensed with when it is no longer of use."

Otto's eyes flitted back to the girl, ignoring his nephew's attempts at intimidation. He was sure Ser Criston would intervene if it came to violence.

"What will you take to renounce this farcical pact? A girl like you should want for security, the path you tread will offer you only strife and judgement. Will you take coin, jewels, an elevated position perhaps?"

He watched his nephew's reaction closely for any sign he would strike, coiled as he was like a viper.

Instead, he saw his nephew's face crumple and his good eye widen. Mayhaps he feared the girl would take him up on his offer.

Looking back to the girl, Otto was startled by the fierceness of the glare she now levelled at him. She'd only seemed a timid creature moments before, easily malleable to his will. She took determined steps forward until she stood next to Aemond, taking his hand in hers. Looking steadfastly up at Otto, she spoke for the first time with an air of confidence he had not expected from her. "I love Prince Aemond and I will not abandon him, whatever you offer me." His nephew's face softened as he gazed down at the girl, perhaps he had not expected such a reaction from her either. Before Otto could incite Aemond enough to strike him, Alicent intervened. "Aemond, we will discuss this further tomorrow. I will have separate chambers prepared for Y/N. She cannot be permitted to continue in service as your handmaiden if these are your wishes. It would continue to raise questions." Alicent knew her son. He was determined and unlike to make a vow he did not mean.

Aemond smiled at his mother, pleased by her softened resolve, though she still looked unconvinced. "Very well Mother, thank you. I will see you on the morrow." Lightly pulling Y/N with him he quickly strode from the room, not stopping until they had passed along several hallways and were far from his mother's chambers. Halting without warning, Y/N almost bumped into him before he caught her, wrapping her up in his arms and leaning his head down to rest against her shoulder.

"Thank you, my brave girl."

Aemond had felt a deeper scar than the one he bore upon his face begin to heal over as Y/N had affirmed her love for him, standing up to the Hand of the King himself to remain at his side. He could not put into words how much her actions had meant to him, knowing how difficult it must have been for her to do so. He cursed himself for believing, just for a moment, there was a possibility of Y/N taking Otto up on one of his sordid offers, so used was he to being the second choice as the second son, and even then it was only Rhaenyra his father truly cared for. He knew how inherently good Y/N was, how she returned his love, and decided his faith would never falter again. Releasing his hold on her he slid his hand down her arm before interlocking their hands. "Come, I will walk you back to the servant's quarters for tonight. Tomorrow you will have more adequate chambers fit for a princess."

Y/N lightly swatted at Aemond's chest. "Aemond, it would scare the servant's half to death for a Prince to show up unannounced at this hour. Rumours will run rife. And I am no princess."

"I do not care, my love I wish to walk my betrothed safely to her door. Besides, you shall be my princess shortly and I wish you to be treated as such. I would shower you with jewels if you would allow it."

Y/N blushed, looking down at the ground. "I have no need of extravagant gifts, Aemond. You know I have always managed quite well with my room in the Keep and with less before that."

Aemond frowned, his heart dropping at the thought of the hardships Y/N must have faced whilst his every need was tended to in the Keep. "I do not like to think of you suffering any deprivation." Y/N squeezed his hand comfortingly. "It was not so bad, I was very lucky to secure a position in the crown's service at a young age."

Aemond tucked a tendril of hair behind Y/N's ear, smiling softly at her and humming as if in thought. "Well, if you will not take jewels, I will need to find another way to express my adoration for you, little one."

Aemond made good on his promise, and everyday a squire would arrive at Y/N's newly appointed chambers to deliver a bouquet of bluebells to her door. Y/N had no idea how Aemond was managing to get hold of so many bluebells, aware as she was that they did not grow within the grounds of Kings Landing, but she adored them and her heart fluttered at the Prince's thoughtfulness. He had heeded her previous rejection of jewels, but he sent her gifts he thought would be more acceptable to her instead; books he thought she might like to read, as thanks to him and Helaena this had become a favourite past time of hers, new gowns in the colours of his House, which made the prospect of their marriage feel more real to her, that she really would be his lady. But it was the flowers that made her feel closer to him as her abrupt change of circumstances meant she could no longer spend time with him alone in his chambers, and she missed him when he was attending to his duties during the day.

She would have been bored out of her mind if not for the company of Helaena who was only too happy to receive her as a sister. She spent the better part of her days in Helaena's chambers, either playing with the little Prince Jahaerys and his sister Princess Jahaera, or discussing her upcoming nuptials with the Princess Helaena. Aemond came to see her at least once a day when it was permitted in his sister's chambers, or she would come to watch him in the training yard. But she misliked the stares she received and found herself seeing Aemond less and less as a result. The Queen had tentatively consented to her marriage with Aemond, despite the Hand's open distate, but she had not spoken to Y/N since. She was all too aware how the Queen and her father saw her as a burden to the Prince, to House Targaryen. As such, the wedding was set to be a small affair, which suited Y/N's shy nature. Though she did hope that in time she might be able to bond with the Queen if she truly saw how happy she and Aemond were together. What mother would not wish their son to be happy?

Rounding a corridor on the way to Helaena's chambers, Y/N heard giggles and muffled whispers, halting in her tracks as she heard the repeated refrain of Aemond's name.

"The Prince Aemond...marrying his handmaiden."

"With child, surely?"

"It is a wonder she is not frightened of him with that scar."

"I could not do it."

"Perhaps no other ladies of the court could stand it?"

She struggled to discern the nature of the conversation between the three ladies of the court, only picking out bits and pieces at first. But when she pieced it together she felt her blood heat as outrage rose up within her.

Before she could think through her actions, Y/N stepped out from behind the wall which concealed her and stormed towards the three ladies who glanced up at the heavy tread of her steps. "You should not speak of the Prince in such a manner. Have you no shame, no respect for the Crown?" The lady closest to her scowled, shifting her raven hair over her shoulders as she upturned her nose at Y/N. "Who are you to presume you can dictate what we should or should not discuss? This is a private conversation."

Y/N was sure she must resemble Vhagar, though she'd never seen the she-dragon, with her own flames pouring forth from her in the form of her heated cheeks. "I am the Prince Aemond's betrothed you speak of. I will not allow you to sully the Prince's name with your false rumours or distasteful remarks about the scar he bears through no fault of his own." The raven haired lady's tone turned mocking then. "So you are the handmaiden then? How dare you talk to your betters this way? Know your place girl."

Y/N's fists clenched unconsciously. "My place is beside the Prince, or defending him from ignorant people like you who would insult him over something entirely out of his control. I must refute your cruel assumptions. The Prince is a noble warrior, a fierce dragon rider, and a dedicated scholar, deserving of your respect. Greater still, he is kind and a gentleman, and I do not fear him in the slightest. Any lady would be lucky to receive his affections and it is my good fortune that he has decided to bestow them on me, though I am but a lowly handmaiden as you say. This only speaks more to his character, that he is able to see past the physical appearance of things, unlike certain members of this court."

Chest heaving, her breath coming in short pants as she finished her tirade, Y/N glared at the three ladies, daring them to speak another word against Aemond.

The raven haired girl took a step towards her, a clear attempt at intimidation. "Be careful girl. You are not wed yet. Who knows how long you will have Prince Aemond's favour. The love of a Prince is a fickle, fleeting thing." When Y/N only continue to scorch her with her glare, the three ladies stalked away. Y/N could feel herself still trembling slightly in her anger at the insults levelled at Aemond. She had never stood up to anyone, her naturally timid nature and status as a servant did not lend themselves to such agency. Though she felt a sense of satisfaction in having done so in defence of the man she loved.

Alicent Hightower had been making her way to her daughter's chambers when she came across the odd sight of the girl, Y/N, squaring her shoulders and raising her voice to three ladies of the court. Shocked at first that she should be so brazen, she stepped forward to intervene, quickly relenting once she approached close enough to hear the nature of the girl's tirade. Instead, the Queen felt her heart warming to the girl as she heard her passionate defence of her son, beginning to understand the depth of Aemond's feelings for the girl. No one save herself had ever defended him so steadfastly. And Alicent could admit that even she had been somewhat lax in expressing her affections for Aemond. This girl clearly loved her son, unconditionally so, and Alicent could not but help to feel grateful to her for this fact. She loved all of her children and wanted them to feel safe and loved. The King barely took note of Aemond, no matter how hard he tried to embody the traits of a true Targaryen, whilst he revered Rhaenyra's plain featured bastards. It was an insult to all decency. In that moment, Alicent resolved to accept this marriage fully and try to bond with the girl, Y/N she reminded herself. Aemond deserved to be loved and she would defend his right to marry the girl should her father or husband express any further opposition.

Aemond was surprised to be summoned to his mother's chambers that evening, she spent the greater portion of her time with Helaena and rarely sent for him. Though he often wished she would show him more affectation as his mother. He grew concerned she wished to talk him out of his engagement with Y/N, already having tentatively expressed her apprehension to the match to no avail. He would not hear anymore on the matter if that were the case.

"Prince Aemond, your grace."

"Thank you Ser Criston."

Aemond entered his mother's chambers as Cole announced him, back ramrod straight and hands clasped behind his back.

Hi mother waited until Cole had shut the door behind him before taking both his hands in her own. "I wish to talk to you on Y/N, Aemond."

"Mother..."

"No, let me speak my peace. I wish only to tell you that I approve of your marriage to the girl and give you my blessing. I will defend your choice alongside you should the need arise again. Though I believe your grandsire has written it off as a lost cause and you well know your father's condition."

Aemond squeezed his mother's hands, hardly believing such a change could have come about so suddenly. "I thank you, Mother. May I ask what has prompted you to change your opinion on Y/N?"

Aemond felt the love he had always wished for from his mother as she smiled warmly up at him. "You'll be pleased to know your betrothed is not so timid as she seems. I came across her defending you quite passionately against three members of the court today. She would hear no insult to your name or your intentions towards her, and made her love and respect for you abundantly clear to the three ladies...and to myself. I confess myself greatly moved by her love for my son."

Aemond felt pride rise within him at Y/N's defence of him and his love grow for her if that were even possible. Taking his mother's hand to place a kiss upon her knuckles, he released her to go and thank his lady. "My heart is gladdened to hear of it mother, and grateful for the affect it has had upon your own. I will bid you goodnight now."

Y/N jumped at the sound of a knock at her chamber door. The hour was late and she had been preparing for bed. She was not entirely certain she should be opening the door in her night dress at this hour but did not wish to be rude if it were a matter of importance, a summons from the Queen herself even. Y/N had barely taken the lock of the latch and opened the door before she was unceremoniously crushed to Aemond's chest, shrieking as she was lifted into the air and spun until her back met the door as he quickly swung it closed, shushing her as he did so. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck reflexively, though she knew he would not drop her. "Aemond what in the Seven..?"

Aemond silenced her with a kiss that took her breath away as he continued to hold her against his body. Melting into his kiss, Y/N tangled her hands in his hair, not caring anymore for the abruptness of his greeting. Pulling away so they could catch their breath, Aemond gently set her down though he kept a hold on her waist. To Y/N, his face looked ethereal in the soft glow of the candle light as he smiled at her.

"I apologise for startling you, my love. I did not wish anyone to see me enter given the lateness of the hour."

Y/N was half dazed by Aemond's proximity and the tingling sensation on her lips from when he'd kissed her, but she willed herself not to just stand gaping at him. "And what brings you to my chambers at this hour?" Her tone was light and teasing. She had missed him and was glad he'd come to see her whatever his reason.

Aemond stepped closer towards Y/N before bringing his lips to her jaw. Y/N gasped softly, but pulled him closer to her instinctively as he kissed down her jaw and spoke against her skin. "I came to thank you for defending me. My mother spoke of it to me."

Y/N's eyes fluttered closed as Aemond began to kiss her neck but tried to maintain a degree of composure to respond to him. She had not been aware of the Queen's presence at the time. "I did not like to hear others speak badly of you. They do not know you as I do." Y/N lifted a hand to stroke his hair as Aemond hummed in response, planting a kiss against her clavicle just above the neckline of her night gown. Her eyes flew open as she realised for the first time that she was, in fact, only in her night gown and the situation was less than appropriate. Pushing Aemond back slightly by his shoulders she tried to keep her voice quiet so as not to alert anyone who might pass by to Aemond's presence in her chambers. "Aemond, I'm only in my night gown!"

Aemond looked confused that she had only just realised this. "I'm well aware, you look beautiful."

Y/N blushed scarlet. "That's not what I meant. But if we're seen together like this, people will think..." She trailed off, hoping Aemond would understand her concerns without her having to spell it out.

Aemond grinned at her. "I only wished to thank my lady for defending my honour. Having done so I shall depart forthwith. I will be discreet." He took Y/N's hand and pulled her with him as he quietly opened the chamber door, glancing around for any signs of movement. Quickly turning to bid his lady goodnight with a final peck on the lips, he shut the door behind him and hurried back to his own chambers, unable to contain his smile as the image of Y/N's flushed cheeks and hair mussed from his ministrations swam in his mind.

Y/N shivered as a cold breeze blew through the courtyard of the Red Keep, blowing whisps of hair into her eyes, which she quickly brushed away. Aemond had asked her to meet him that morning for she knew not what, but the presence of the horse being saddled by a young squire by the steps of the Keep entrance concerned her somewhat.

"Y/N"

At the sound of her voice she looked up to see Aemond taking the steps three at a time to meet her, immediately wrapping an arm around her waist to kiss her as he reached the bottom.

"Good morning, my love" He pulled back to smile at her, the biting cold of the crisp morning seemingly having no affect on his mood. She supposed the blood of the dragon spared him.

Placing a hand against his chest she realised she was right as heat seemed to radiate from him whilst she stood there shivering. "Good morning, Aemond."

Taking hold of the hand that was on his chest in both of his, Aemond began rubbing his hands up and down hers "Your hands are cold. We should head off while the skies remain clear." With that he began pulling her towards the horse, just as she'd feared. She'd never ridden before and could foresee embarassment just at the thought of mounting the horse. "And where are we going, Aemond?"

Without stopping Aemond called back to her over his shoulder. "To visit Vhagar. It is important to me that you become acquainted." Y/N blanched, she'd expressed her interest in dragons early on to Aemond, they were almost like gods to her, but also her fear of them...and Vhagar was the largest and fiercest of them all. Aemond had taken to mentioning Vhagar with increasing regularity to her and she should have realised this was inevitable. His grip on her hand was tight and carried with it a sense of finality. Sighing and accepting her fate, hoping the dragon wouldn't cook her on sight, she asked the other question that was on her mind.

"Why do we have need of a horse to see your dragon? The dragon pit is within walking distance, is it not?"

"Vhagar is too large for the dragon pit. She resides on the outskirts of the city."

Y/N gulped. Aemond was always so nonchalant about his fearsome dragon, as if she were a friend to him rather than a fire breathing beast. She could not be so calm about the danger.

As Aemond released her hand to take the reigns of the horse from the squire, she looked sceptically at the saddle. Before she could make a disastrous attempt at mounting the horse, warm hands lifted her by the waist onto its back. Aemond followed swiftly, positioning himself behind her.

Y/N blushed as Aemond reach around her to take the reigns, encompassing her in his arms as the horse broke into a canter. His breath tickled the hair by her ear as he leant his head on her shoulder. "Relax." She realised she had been sitting stiff as a board, tilted forward, and leaned more fully into him, her back pressing against his chest. She felt a sense of security in Aemond's arms, even as she want to meet a dragon, his warmth seeping into her.

Aemond smiled as he felt Y/N shift closer to him, basking in her proximity and how far they had come for her to be so comfortable with him now. He'd been bemused at the look on her face as she'd approached the horse, tentatively placing her smaller hand on the saddle. He doubted she had any or at least very little experience with horse riding. Lifting her up onto the horse himself and wrapping his arms around her to take the reigns, he thought to himself that he should have invented an excuse to do so long before.

They fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by Y/N's gasp as what she'd thought had been a huge mountain moved and lifted its head, seemingly sensing its rider's approach. Not a mountain...Vhagar.

"It is alright, Y/N. She will not harm you. I am here."

Bringing the horse to a stop a safe distance away from the she-dragon, Aemond jumped down before turning to lift Y/N down. Vhagar was looking inquisitively at them and Y/N feared she was wondering whether Aemond had brought her a snack, though she was also awestruck by the sight of a real dragon before her. "Stay here a moment, I will calm her before I introduce you."

With that he approached the large dragon as if she were only a small dog, speaking softly to her and patting her snout when he was close enough.

"Lykirri Vhagar, dohaeras."

Y/N felt her lips quirk up in an involuntary smile and her cheeks heat at the smooth, low tone of Aemond's voice as he spoke in High Valyrian. She had not heard him speak it before but found it unspeakably attractive. Y/N could not understand what Aemond was saying, but whatever it was seemed to have a calming affect on the she-dragon as she rested her head back on the ground, not even looking at Y/N anymore. She could not school her features before Aemond looked back at her, returning to her side and looking down at her questioningly. "I do so love to see you blush, might I inquire as to the cause on this occasion?"

Y/N wanted the ground to swallow her up at his directness, but as she began to turn from Aemond to hide her glowing cheeks, he only took hold of her elbow and turned her back towards him. "There is no need to be embarassed, Ñuha prūmia." As her blush deepened and she squirmed away from him realisation dawned on Aemond's face, and he graced her with a knowing smirk.

"Ah, I see."

Y/N felt the need to explain herself, but only managed to stumble over her own words. "It is only that I like to hear you speak in Valyrian, it has an elegance to it. I mean to say that I find the sound of your voice comforting. Wait, that sounds worse." Flustered she placed her head in her hands, hearing Aemond chuckle softly as he prised her hands from her face. "I am glad you like the sound of my voice, my darling, and I'll speak to you in High Valyrian more often if it should please you.

Brushing his hand over her blazing cheek he brought his face low to speak against her ear, his voice barely above a whisper.  "Iksā gevie, Issa jorrāelagon."

A shiver went down Y/N's spine, though she did not understand the meaning of the words. "What does it mean?"

Aemond pulled back, his smile widening at her physical reaction to his voice. "Do you truly wish to know?" Y/N narrowed her eyes in suspicion at the cunning glint in Aemond's eye, resolving to just ask Helaena later. She hoped it was not anything too crude. "I'm suddenly not so sure I do." Aemond patted her cheek affectionately before taking her hand in his. "Come then, I wish you to meet Vhagar. She is calm now. It is safe."

Interlocking their fingers, Aemond gently pulled Y/N towards Vhagar until she was close enough to touch the she-dragon. Pulling their joint hands up, he placed Y/N's palm on Vhagar's side. The Prince observed Y/N's face switch from one of trepidation to a look of of wonder as he smoothed their hands down the tough surface of Vhagar's scales. His dragon was not perturbed in the slightest, a relaxed hum reverberating through her as she huffed out soft tendrils of smoke.

He knew that Vhagar could feel the great importance the girl beside him held for Aemond, could feel his love for her, through their shared bond. And as such she would not harm her. But it warmed his heart to see the two great loves of his life interact. His bond with Vhagar had been the most important connection in his life before he met Y/N. She was his only friend, their bond with one another unequivocal, unbreakable. Introducing Y/N to Vhagar felt like baring the most essential parts of his soul to her. He hoped that Y/N might even agree to a ride with Vhagar in the future as she grew more comfortable with his dragon, and his heart raced with excitement at the prospect. There was no feeling like riding high in the skies, as if touching the heavens, nothing so pure as the trust between a dragon and it's rider. Aemond wanted to experience this with Y/N in time.

Y/N allowed the Queen to manage preparations for her wedding entirely, grateful there would only be a small wedding feast afterwards. The Queen had been nothing but warm and welcoming to her since she'd witnessed Y/N defending her son so vociferously. Y/N would be forever grateful to Helaena for teaching her the basics of dancing and only hoped she would not embarass herself too greatly, though she was excited at the prospect of dancing with Aemond. There was only one matter she had a strong opinion on, and that was her dress. One conversation with Helaena had convinced her that her dress should be blue. The Queen had seemed unsure at first, the common colour being white, but did not see the harm if Y/N was adamant.

Though Y/N was racked by nerves on the morning of her wedding, she was overjoyed by the way her dress had turned out. The soft midnight blue fabric and the golden detailing shifted elegantly as she moved, and Y/N thought it resembled the night sky. She only hoped Aemond would also like it. Butterflies erupted in the pit of her stomach as she faced the long expanse of the aisle of the Sept, her arm interlocked with the Prince Aegon's.

Aemond's brother had been surprisingly pleasant to her, despite his reputation for being somewhat of a menace at court, and had offered to walk her down since she had no surviving male relatives of her own to do so. Searching Aemond out, she felt her nerves settle somewhat at the sight of him, handsome garbed in his ivory tunic and with a soft smile upon his face as he took her in. Taking his hand in hers, Y/N felt a wave of calm rush over her at how their hands fit together, as if made for one another. Her feeling of contentment, of pieces falling into place, only intensified as they spoke their vows and Aemond placed a cloak embroidered with the colours of House Tagaryen over her shoulders.

The wedding feast itself passed with little ceremony, including only a small gathering of nobles. Aegon had sunk into his cups early into the evening and managed to make a fool of himself drunkenly pulling Y/N about the room in the semblance of a dance, insistent that he should "welcome his new sister into the family properly" before she was rescued by her husband. Her heart fluttered at the thought as she placed her hands on his shoulders and he pulled her close to lead her in the steps of the dance. Aemond did not much like to dance, but that night he did for Y/N and found he did not mind so much when it was his wife he held in his arms rather than the simpering noble ladies that had been thrust upon him at feasts before. As the hour grew late and Y/N felt herself growing overwhelmed under the watchful gaze of the courtiers, they made to retire to their chambers. Aegon had just barely spoken the words "bedding ceremony" before Aemond fixed him with a glare so fierce he immediately quietened and went back to his cups.

Shutting the doors to their shared chambers, his heart warming at the thought, Aemond's smile fell as he turned to see his wife anxiously wringing her hands and shifting from one foot to the other. He gently gripped her shoulders. "Are you well, my love?"

"I confess I am a little afraid." Realisation dawned upon him. It was not uncommon for ladies to be concerned about their wedding night, but he did not wish his wife to be.

"You needn't be. We do not have to do anything. I can just hold you."

Aemond's felt a surge of guilt at Y/N's still uneasy expression, he hated to think she felt she had to do anything she was not yet comfortable with out of duty. It was more than enough for him that she was now his wife. He wished her to understand that he would never force her, or pressure her for anything more than she would allow.

Gently taking her hand he purposefully pulled her away from the bed to the chaise in the centre of the room. "Come, sit and talk with your husband a while."

He hoped if he continued on as they normally would, Y/N would feel less nervous. Keeping hold of her hand in both of his he turned to her, mouth quirked up in a conspiratorial smirk. "You have been thoroughly inducted into House Targaryen now with all its foibles. I hope Aegon's fool hardy behaviour did not alarm you too much. I must warn you that I will not allow myself to be parted from you even if it did."

Aemond felt his heart warm at her laugh, hoping she was beginning to feel more comfortable. They talked for a while before Y/N suddenly quietened, her expression sheepish. Aemond squeezed her hand gently, concerned that his wife might be afraid of him by the way she was looking at him. Her next words quickly dispelled that thought. But they instilled in him a different fear entirely, causing him to stiffen as she tentatively raised a hand to brush against his cheek, along the strap of his eyepatch.

"May I see you without your eyepatch, husband?"

Aemond caught her wrist, halting her movements, his voice laced with an admixture of shame and fear he had carried with him since he had lost his eye. He had gained a dragon, the largest and fiercest in the world, but he had been irreparably maimed for it. It was an act of violence that had changed the way people looked at him ever since and he could not bear it if Y/N should look at him with disgust or horror, or shame. "It is an ugly thing, my love. Not for the faint of heart."

"It is a part of you, Aemond. I will not judge you for it. I wish only to look upon the face of my husband, who I love dearly."

Aemond closed his eyes briefly, trying to control the erratic beating of his heart as he sought a way to distract his wife from her current train of thought, to disway her from her wish to see what lay beneath his eyepatch. He did not know if he could part with this layer of armour, the fear of rejection palpable in the air between them.

"I do not know..."

Y/N cut him off before he could give his excuses.

"If you will not show me, will you tell me how it happened? If it is not too painful. I know that it was your nephew Lucerys who was to blame." Aemond was surprised by the biting tone of his wife's voice as she spoke the name of his nephew. But he was grateful for the escape she had offered him and so he told her everything. Of how he had so oft been an outcast, jeered at by his brother and nephews when his dragon egg failed to hatch. He told her of how they'd mocked him with the promise of a dragon, only to present him with a pig. He told her of how he'd tried to offer his nephew Jacaerys comfort upon the death of Harwin Strong, of how he'd been rebuked and sought out Vhagar. How he'd claimed the largest dragon in the world, and how he'd lost an eye for it.

All the while Y/N stroked the side of his face, his hair, her eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowing at each painful memory Aemond recalled. When he'd finished, she pulled him to her, his head coming to rest in the crook of her neck. "I hate that you have suffered so much at the hands of those who should love you. I wish I had been there for you." Aemond felt his heart seize, unused to such care, such devotion to his well being. "I do not wish to distress you, my wife. I am perfectly content now."

Y/N huffed. "I always want you to feel comfortable telling me about these parts of yourself Aemond. I would like a word with your nephews though" she grumbled out under her breath. Aemond let out a hearty laugh at that, clutching his wife tighter to him "Perhaps it is not Vhagar my enemies should fear, but my fearsome, protective wife. I have long since forgiven Lucerys, it is his lack of punishment that has always pained me, rather than the act itself."

Y/N pulled away from him to look into his face, cupping his cheek where his eyepatch rested. "Then you are a better man than most."

As gratitude for his wife's care washed over him, Aemond felt that he did not need to hide from Y/N anymore, that it might be a relief for her to see him as he truly was without the fear of her reacting negatively. She had not judged him at any moment for his scar or as he told her of the misfortunes of his childhood. Had she not been the one to mend the very eyepatch he now wore upon his face the day they had met, knowing what it meant to him? He trusted her fully, and would show her as much.

"I do not mind if you wish to see it, my love." Taking strength from the warmth of his beloved's hand he placed both their hands atop the strap of his eyepatch and slowly removed it from his face, leaving only the sapphire where his eye should have been. He closed his good eye, not wishing to see his wife's initial reaction, aware the sight was ghastly and harrowing for most. The soft touch of her fingers down the line of his scar grounded him, reassuring him that she was not disgusted with him. She did not despise him.

"It is beautiful, Aemond."

Aemond snapped his eye open, looking at Y/N as if she'd lost her mind. "Beautiful? I expected you to shriek or faint at the sight of it. You are always surprising me Y/N."

"I think every part of you beautiful, the sapphire compliments you well. Why did you think I had a blue dress made? It is not the common colour for a wedding gown."

"You had your dress made to match me?"

Aemond spoke slowly, each word latent with barely repressed emotion.

Y/N nodded eagerly. "Yes, Helaena told me of your sapphire. I know it is not common knowledge but I thought it might please you."

Moved by his wife's sweet gesture, Aemond pulled her towards him so she was halfway in his lap, one hand holding her head to his chest.

"I worried you would hate me for it, that you would come to regret tying yourself to a man with such a deformity when you are perfection itself."

Y/N pulled back from him then, all seriousness as she considered how best to show Aemond that his scar did not make him any less in her eyes, that she love all of him.

"I could never hate you, and it does not frighten me. If anything I only love you all the more for allowing me to see you this way, for trusting me. And as to me being perfect, I assure you it is only you who thinks so and I most certainly am not."

Leaning over Aemond, Y/N placed a trail of kisses along the length of his scar, pulling away to rest her hand on his cheek. "You will always be the most handsome man to me. My brave husband."

Y/N lowered herself from her position leant over him until she was straddling Aemond, his hands moving to her waist to keep her secure as he gazed up at her in awe. Bringing her lips to his, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself as close as she could to him. In the comfort of his arms and with the feel of his lips on her, Y/N realised she had never felt so safe, so seen with anyone as with Aemond, and her previous worries dissipated. She parted her lips, allowing Aemond to deepen the kiss, before reaching one hand down to take hold of Aemond's.

He did not oppose her as she moved it from her waist to place it on her collarbone, slowly moving it down her chest until it rested over her breast. She heard Aemond's breath hitch but steeled her courage as she continued to move her lips against his, all the while trailing his hand down her torso, her hip and finally her thigh. Aemond pulled away from her then to look into her eyes, seemingly searching for any doubt. "Are you sure, my heart?"

Y/N had never been so sure of anything in that moment as she was of her love for Aemond and his love for her. Bringing her hands up to his shoulders she pressed her lips to his forehead. "Yes."

Aemond smiled tenderly at her, his voice soft as he ran his fingers through her hair. "Avy jorrāelan." He knew that she would understand what that meant from the tone of his voice. Pressing her closer to him still, if that were possible, the prince crashed his lips against hers.

Valyrian translations:

Avy jorrāelan~ I love you

Iksā gevie~ You are beautiful

Issa jorrāelagon ~My love

Nuha prumia~ My heart

This might be the prettiest a man has ever looked. I was in shock your honour.

Also. How the fuck did he do this????!!!!

@zoetje2004 @jjkysnk @ieieibhibu8 @skymoonandstardust @truly-abysmal @idonotknowenglish @leonesimp @hyacinthesiss @nanawaffles @callsigncrushx @bitchyfestivalbouquet @void21 @sapphiresandferrari @pinkykats-place

@lportes-22

@superintenseart @youknownothingjohnwatson

@misspinkonmars @ateliefloresdaprimavera

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

No Sugar Tonight 3

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Brock Rumlow

Summary: A regular customer becomes more than just a familiar face.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your shifts are often tedious. Slow and dull. You like the night shift because it’s not as stressful. Or was.

That night you spend looking out the windows in expectation. For each customer that walks across the tiles with echoing footfalls, you wait in expectation. They come and get their treats and go. None of them are him. That stranger. The one who looms like a shadow in your mind as he had that day on the street.

Dayani is late. You give her the keys with a yawn. You get a day off and you’re more than eager for it. You’re relieved to leave shy of the dreaded encounter.

You head off through the front doors and turn down the street. The tree planted between the sidewalk blocks splits in too and as a figure emerges from the shade. Oh no.

You make to walk past the dark-haired man who prefers his coffee black. He simply turns and walks parallel to you.

You glance over at him warily. He doesn’t look back. He keeps walking, only reaching blindly to take your hand in his. You go rigid but don’t pull away. You’re jittering in terror.

“What are you--””

“You think anyone’s gonna mess with me?” He says flatly.

“No, sir, but--”

“Brock,” he says, then recites your name. “Now we know each other.”

Your mouth opens and closes. His hand is hot and a woodsy cologne wafts from his jacket. His skin is rough against yours. He squeezes as if he can sense your reticence.

“Brock,” you repeat. “Okay.”

“You got a day off.”

It’s a statement. It’s without a sliver of doubt. How does he know that?

“I told you, you’re easy to follow. You need to look around more.” He reprimands. “Too late to see me. I’m here.”

His tone is eerie. It makes your skin tingle. He drags you on but not towards your usual route. He also told you not to take the alleyways.

“Sir, er, Brock?” You murmur.

“Those muffins are too sugary. You need a full breakfast.” He insists.

“Right, that’s... okay. Erm...”

“It’s a nice place. You’ll like it,” he says bluntly.

You don’t know what to say, or do. You want to run away but can’t. His hand is a snare and you’re a helpless rabbit caught in it. You look down at his thick fingers. You don’t understand. He was always so silent. You were sure he hated you.

He takes you into a diner. You’ve never noticed it before. It’s quiet this early. He brings you to a booth and sits across from you. You fold your hands in your lap as you sit on the bench and wait. You could try then to escape but you wouldn’t want to make a scene.

“Coffee, black,” he orders as the waitress comes by. He looks at you for the first time and as you ask politely for a green tea, he doesn’t look away. His eyes bore into you. The waitress goes to get your drinks.

“Quit.” He says.

You frown, “huh? What am I doing?”

“Your job.”

“My job?” You utter.

“No need for it.” He says.

“Sir, Brock. I... I have to pay my rent.”

“No. You don’t.” He lifts his menu and drops his eyes to the laminated list. “You have to eat.”

You follow his lead, only to have something to do. You take the menu and read it. The waitress returns and puts down your drinks. He gets sausage, bacon, and eggs. You get a waffle. She goes and you’re alone again.

“Good.” He says.

Your confusion tautens in your cheeks. Good what?

“Call your boss.” He says, “then we can enjoy our meal.”

“I really can't afford to quit–”

“I didn't ask. In fact, I didn't ask a single question. I'm telling you.” He sneers.

Your heart flips and you bit your lip.

“I'm more than happy to tell him myself. He pays you shit. I'll take care of you.”

“I don't… what do you want from me?” You croak.

He snickers, the most humour you've seen in him. He reaches for his cup and drink. He grimaces at the taste. “That's dog shit.”

You sigh impatiently. You're getting frustrated by his terse way. Somehow he is straight to the point but you're completely missing it.

“You. Just you. That's what I want.” He sits back and pushes his shoulders wide.

“Me?”

He stares at you and nods.

“Are you asking me out?” You wonder.

“I don't ask,” he jabs his finger into the table with each word.

“I… I don't know you, I–”

“You're too old for roommates. The place is shit anyway. Those old wires will start a fire and the sprinkled are rusted.” He overrides you. Again.

“No.”

“No,” he echoes with a snort. “Again, no question marks here.”

“You can't do this.”

“Can't do what? It's done.”

“No.”

“Give me your phone,” he demands.

“No, you can't–”

“Give me the damn phone. Now. Or I'll burn down that box you call a home myself.” His eyes are black pools that threaten to drown you.

You reach into your purse and take out your phone. He snatches it before you can react. His thumb taps and drags quickly across the screen. He puts it to his esr as the waitress returns with your food.

You thank her quietly as he ignores her.

“Yeah, I'm calling on her behalf. She quits.” He doesn't wait for a response. He hangs up and dials again. “She's tendering notice. Moving out. Fill the lease.”

In a few fell swoops, he's cut every string holding your life up. It all comes crashing as he hands the phone back and turns his attention to his food. You're not very hungry. A glance from him changes that. You lfit your fork to ease the edge in his jaw.

“Good girl,” he says as he cuts into the sausage.

[onlyjaeyun]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 – 𝟑𝟕

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍: 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

↬ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

↬ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬!𝐀𝐔, 𝐂𝐄𝐎!𝐉𝐚𝐲, 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

↬ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟔.𝟏𝐤

↬ 𝐜𝐰: 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐛𝐯𝐬𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬, 𝐭𝐨𝐲𝐢𝐜/𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐃𝐃/𝐋𝐆 (𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐝𝟎𝐦/𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐬), 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐦.𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 (𝟏) 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐤, 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞

Ever since the day Jongseong had decided to add your number to his list of exceptions from his "do not disturb" mode, there's been this certain type of calmness in his chest, knowing he's always available for you.

And despite the fact the two of you had only talked to each other a few hours ago, he couldn't help but be surprised about seeing your name on the display of his phone; especially considering the fact it's way past midnight and you've never been one to stay up this late.

All of a sudden, a jolt of worry rushes through his veins and without missing another beat, he picks up the call.

"Yes, Ba–", and as your soft little cries interrupt him, said worry turns out to be justified.

"What's wrong? What happened?"

From the way none of your responses seem to make sense or are even coherent for the most part, Jay's whole body freezes from the panic of listening to you. Before he can even overthink his actions, he finds himself reaching for his sweater, pulling it over his head and reaching for his car keys in the same moment.

"Stay with me, Baby", he says as calmly as possible, knowing you need the best version of him right now, no matter how much he's internally losing his mind, "I'm on my way."

The young businessman doesn't say another word until he's firmly seated in the driver's seat of his car all while trying his best to calm you down.

But by the time he's on the highway, Jongseong knows he's lost you to a panic attack. Your sobs and breathing heavy to the point where the worry of your lungs actually hyperventilating overwhelms him. His words don't reach you, no matter what and how he says it.

Thousands of possible reasons start rushing around in his head and as he comes to stop at yet another red light, Jay subconsciously makes the decision to have you either move in with him or in one of the apartments in his own complex because there's absolutely no way he's going to let something like this happen ever again.

Knowing you're on the other side of the city, scared, overwhelmed and panicked, unable to handle it all by yourself is breaking his heart in the most painful way possible and the urge to break every single traffic rule suddenly becomes overwhelming.

Jongseong's very much aware that this probably isn't your first panic attack and at the end of the day you somehow would have dealt with it on your own, but you decided to call him because you need him and that's the only thing he cares about.

In all those months of knowing you, the way from his own to your apartment has never, ever felt this long; as if the whole world had collectively decided to test his patience and self control.

By the time he finally parks his car across from your apartment building, a whole eternity has already passed by and the only thing he can focus on is the sound of your little cries and sobs on the other side of the phone.

The boys from your block seem confused and a little surprised to see the young man at such time of the day but upon meeting his worried gaze, none of them dare to say a single word but rather do whatever it takes to get him to you even faster. Seyeon is quick to read Jay as he reaches for his keys and immediately unlocks the front door, nothing but a nod of gratitude being exchanged once he walks into the hallways.

Jongseong never once pulls his phone away from his ear as he basically runs up the stairs ro your apartment, not ready to waste any more time by waiting for the elevator.

His thoughts are racing at such high speed, it feels like their about to shoot out of his ears. Jay has never been this worried or stressed before; the lack of knowledge of the reason behind your panick attack pushing every single one of his buttons, even the ones he didn't even know existed.

"I'm here, Baby, open the door", Jongseong breathes heavily, his voice a little louder and stricter than usual as he hopes for his words to reach you through the sound of your own sobs.

And up until the moment you finally swing open the door, his heart is brutally crashing against his rib cage, just to skip a few beats when the sight of your tear stained face and shaking body hits him like a fist.

"Oh, Baby", is the first thing to leave his lips as he reaches for your body and before he can even pull you closer to his body, you bury your face into his chest and start crying even harder.

Jay wraps his arms around your fragile body without an ounce of hesitation, pulling you even closer against his own as he closes the door behind him and tries his best to calm you down with his words.

"It's okay, pretty girl. I'm here. You're safe", he whispers softly, his heart still hanmering against his rib cage and every single beat hurting his soul the more his brain processes what's actually happening.

Seeing his usually so happy and smiley girl in such a state of devastation feels surreal and if it wasn't for the pain in your little cries, he would have doubted this moment to be actual reality.

Every now and then, Jay gently pulls your face away from his chest to look at you, worried and concerned about your physical health and feeling the need to check if everything is intact.

He has absolutely no idea why you're crying as much as you are. He basically just dropped you off at home again about two hours ago where everything was perfectly fine.

By the time you slowly start calming down in his arms, Jongseong has already painted several thousand possible scenarios in his head and the more time passes without a word from you, the heavier his heart becomes.

And as he gently caresses your back, subconsciously regulating his breathing to give you something to follow, you can physically feel your body coming back to reality.

The blood stops rushing in your ear, your cries slowly dying as your heartbeat finally reaches its regular pace again. All of a sudden the world stops spinning and the heavy feeling of panic and anxiety on your chest slowly disappears.

With tired eyes you lift your head from the crook of Jay's neck to meet his gentle gaze and before you can even react, he takes your face into his big hands and starts nodding at you.

"You're doing so good, Baby", he whispers and pushes the hair out of your face, "breathe with me, yeah? Slowly, you've got this."

Without giving it much thought, mostly because you're way too mentally exhausted to overthink anything, you start imitating his breathing pattern. Inhaling deeply, followed by a short hold of breath and then a long exhale.

It doesn't take you longer than five minutes calm down completely, yet to Jongseong it feels like an eternity.

You let out a soft yet shaky sigh and press your cheek against his strong chest again, your whole body freezing from the cold air in your hallway.

"Let's go to my bedroom", you say, your voice hoarse and raspy from all the sobbing and as soon as those words leave your mouth, Jay finally manages to calm down himself.

He silently follows you through your apartment, a certain type of comfort surrounding him as he holds onto your hand and allows his eyes to graze your place the way he usually does when he comes over.

Jong doesn't know what it is about your home but there's never, ever been a place he's felt as comfortable and safe in as he does in your four walls. He knows you think he's exaggerating because of the size difference in your two apartments, but to him his own is nothing but a place to sleep, whereas yours is an actual home.

He simply can't wait for you to make a home out of his penthouse and finally give him what he's been craving ever since he moved in all those years ago.

With a soft smile of reassurance, you tell Jongseong to get comfortable on your bed as you're getting washed up to be a little more presentable, not even to him but rather to yourself.

Just as usual, he does as he's told and yet can't help but feel tense as you walk into your bathroom, your pretty body covered in nothing but a white little camisole, reminding him why you had asked to come into the warmth of your bedroom in the first place.

Up until the moment you walk through the door again, does he remain as tense and anxious, something so unusual for the young CEO. Growing up the way he did, Jong's simply never had time to lose himself in feelings like this, which is why they now seem so unfamiliar to him.

As you slowly approach him with unsure steps, you can't really tell what's going on in his head and for a moment worry overwhelms you. The first instinct to hit your messy brain after your brother's threatening texts was to call the one man you know would never harm you, yet you never once considered what your current emotional state might do to him.

"I'm sorry, Jongie", you whisper and reach for his face, loving the way he moves further into your touch before placing a row of soft kisses into your palm.

Different than you expect, Jongseong remains quiet. All he does is wrap his fingers around your delicate wrist and pull you closer to his body, silently moving you to straddle his lap before he lets out a soft sigh of relief.

Holding you in his arms like this feels like all the weight has been taken off of his shoulders and for the first time in the past hour, he feels like he can actually breathe.

"Don't be sorry, my pretty girl", he whispers into your ear and gives you a soft kiss on the temple, "I'm just glad you're okay now."

"But I scared you", you reply shyly and pull away from him, nervously playing with the little chain around his neck and intentionally avoiding his gaze, "and I worried you."

"Yes, Baby", Jongseong doesn't hold back with his response, the need to hear your voice too intense, "and yet you made me the proudest man ever. I know calling me wasn't easy. You did so well, pretty girl."

His words surprise you, to say the least. You tend to forget just how soft spoken and gentle Jongseong is compared to all the other men in your life. And as your brain slowly processes his soft words of affirmation and reassurance, you can't help but tear up again.

A very familiar haze starts taking over your brain and for a moment you feel like you're about to fall asleep just from those few words.

"Thank you, Jongie", you whisper and subconsciously bite your tongue to hold yourself back from calling him that tiny little title you've always been oh so hesitant with.

You know how forbidden and scandalous it is, how some people won't ever understand why one would find an inch of pleasure in such a word, yet to you it's always been nothing but comfort.

Yet the fear of scaring him away or even worse, disgust him with your choice of sexual comfort is way too consuming to even consider opening up such a topic any time soon.

Maybe in a few months when the two of you have surpassed a certain point, you'll find the courage to go up and talk to Jongseong about your deep desires. But for now you're more than just content keeping them to yourself if that means to satisfy him.

"Do you wanna tell me what this is about, Baby? Do you feel comfortable enough to do it?"

His voice is calm and soft, his embrace taking over every single one of your senses and as soon as Jongseong takes your face into his big hands, you feel yourself ready to do whatever he asks of you.

"My older b-brother texted me, he somehow got access to my number", you reply and feel the knot in your throat returning in an instant, "he threatened to hurt the men you've hired, as well as you and me and then he–", but your voice betrays you as it breaks at the end of your sentence.

Jongseong gently pulls you into a soft kiss, pressing his lips gently against yours yet not expecting your hungry reciprocation. With a soft sigh he allows you to lead the kiss, swallowing your little whines as he waits for you to calm down.

"Keep going now, Baby", Jongseong whispers against your lips, a sweet blush covering the apples of his cheeks as he looks at you with adoration gleaming in his pretty eyes, "you're almost there. I know you can do it."

You nod softly, pushing your hands into his hair and pressing yourself further against his chest to calm the racing of your heart, all while subconsciously ignoring the growing wet spot in the center of your panties.

It's just another day of your body betraying you by mistaking sexual arousal with genuine comfort and the feeling of security.

"He implied something about finding out where I live and that sent me into a panic attack because I know – I don't – what if he hurts me again, Jongie?"

The tears have yet again blurred your vision as you struggle to breathe and look up at the young business man with a quivering bottom lip.

Jongseong's reaction is quick, his big hand gently holding your face as he starts taking one deep breath after the other until your pattern matches his.

"That's my good girl", he whispers and gives you a soft kiss, "that was great, Baby. I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you, Jay", you sigh and move further into his soft touch, trying to ignore the warmth pooling in your lower stomach from how much his gentleness is affecting you.

"How about you stay with me after the trip to Jeju and then we'll figure everything out once we're back, hm? If you don't want to stay with me for a longer time I'll make sure to hire two bodyguards of mine to watch over you through the day as well as have them stand in front of your door during the night."

His offer is exactly what you needed to hear and you can't believe how it instantly sends jolts of calmness through your body, easily suppressing the anxiety in your veins and with a soft smile you nod.

"Thank you for letting me help you, Baby", Jay sighs and places a soft kiss on your neck, his big hands firmly placed on your waist, "I'd do everything to keep you safe and protected. They won't ever hurt you again, my angel. Not as long as I am around."

Maybe it's the sound of his voice or his choice of words, maybe it's the genuineness nehind it all and maybe, just maybe it's because you've never felt as comfortable and safe with a man as you doneith Park Jongseong, yet regardless of the reason, you find yourself slowly turning off your brain and with a soft sigh, you bury your face in his neck and start squirming in his lap.

The urge to be as physically close to him as possible has already taken over every single one of your senses and at this point you're just tired of fighting against yourself.

"Easy there, angel girl", Jongseong suddenly grunts and digs his fingers deeper into your skin, the soft pain sending yet another jolt of arousal straight into your cunt.

"I don't have much self control when it comes to you, Baby, I don't wanna hurt your heart", he whispers and throws his head back when you suddenly start littering his neck in soft, open mouthed kisses. The feeling of your tongue licking over the little spots on his skin as well as the feeling of your warm, barely clothed cunt against his cock send his brain into overdrive and Jay knows he has to stop this or he'll lose his composure.

"Don't", you reply calmly, looking up at him with big, glassy eyes and your pretty lips pushed into the cutest little pout, "please, Da – Jongie, I want you so bad. Need you to make me forget again."

You're quick to save your little slip up, despite the heavy cloud surrounding your brain and as you allow yourself to roam his handsome face with hungry eyes, you realise he's way too gone to have noticed.

Jongseong on the other hand is convinced his brain is playing games with him. You didn't actually just almost call him by that fucking title he's been daydreaming about ever since the first day he's met you. It's just his stupid head and the pain urging from his now rock hard cock. There's absolutely no way.

"Look at me, Baby", he grunts softly, his big hand wrapping around your throat to make you follow his request, "I need you to tell me exactly what you want, yeah? Can you be a good girl and use your words for me again?"

You don't even think a single thought, just nodding in response to his sweet request.

"I wanna ride you, Jongie", you sigh as your hands find home in his thick hair, pulling on the dark strands gently and slowly grinding your hips against his, "I miss feeling you inside of me."

"F-Fuck", his response is instinctive, more of a reflex than anything else and with a deep grunt, Jongseong throws his head back to enjoy the feeling of pleasure filling his veins.

"That's my good girl", Jay growls deeply, lightheaded and slightly dizzy the more his body loses itself in the sweetness of your touch, "Daddy's perfect little angel."

It takes him a whole second to realise what the fuck had just slipped past his lips and with wide eyes Jay finds himself staring at the ceiling.

All of a sudden his heart starts hammering against his ribcage, anxiety and fear of your possible reaction to the sudden exposure to his most treasured and well hidden kink.

You two have talked about quite a few things but this never felt fitting enough to bring up ag any given point and for some reason, Jay can't help but be genuinely afraid.

His previous partners never enjoyed it the way he wanted them to. They usually only played along in bed because they knew he liked it and the fear of you doing the same has the knot in his throat double in its size.

"I'm so fucking sorry", he whispers and finally gets himself to look at you, yet skillfully avoiding your eyes.

He's not quite ready for a heartbreak of this sort, not when he literally just regained your trust.

"It won't ever happen again, Baby, I promise. Please just forget I said it. I'm so ashamed."

Yet again, a million possible scenarios start flooding his mind and not a single one preparing him for your actual reaction.

As you watch the young CEO obviously struggling internally, you can't help but feel relieved.

You've always hoped that he'd be into this as much as you are, especially after the first time the two of you had gotten intimate but for some reason it's so much better, more fulfilling than you could have ever imagined.

Similar to Jay's experiences, you've rather been hesitant about revealing this particular fantasy to your previous boyfriends, mostly because you know they either disliked it or even thought of it as weird and disgusting.

And the one who didn't really care about it usually never reciprocated your urges and just let you use the title for him, something you quickly pushed yourself to let go of to save your dignity and heart. Ever since that you had promised yourself to never, ever give this to someone unworthy again.

And now here you are.

In the arms of a man who got so lost in his pleasure and want for you, he actually slipped into the designated role without your initiation.

"No, please", you whisper, a thin veil of tears blurring your vision as you take his face into your shaky hands, your body actually overwhelmed by all the emotions, "I've dreamed about this for so long."

"It's okay, Baby, you don't have to play along if you don't like it. There's no need for you to indulge in it, I'll be–", but you don't give him the opportunity to finish his rejection, too consumed by him.

"Please, Daddy", your voice is small as you're too afraid of bursting into tears, "don't take this away from me again. I need it so bad."

"My Baby."

This time, Jongseong's voice is filled with relief, the excitement reaching his pretty eyes as he takes in the sight of his pretty girl on his lap; the sound of you referring to him the way he's been fantasising about for longer than he'd like to admit constantly replaying in his mind.

"Only yours", you say confidently and nudge his nose with yours before the tension finally becomes too much and you needily pull him into a deep kiss.

Despite having done it a fair amount of times, you don't think you'll ever get used to kissing Park Jongseong.

It's rhe way he allows you to lead the kiss all while maintaining the control. Each time your lips meet his, you feel your cunt clenching in despair and the wet spot in your panties doubling in its size with every second passing by.

Just as usual, it starts off slow and gentle, only for the hunger to overwhelm the both of you and before you can even realise it, you find yourself sucking his tongue into your mouth as you shamelessly grind your clothed cunt against the hard bulge in his sweats.

You quickly swallow all of his deep grunts and heavy moans, loving the way his taste consumes your senses and Jay doesn't seem afraid of letting you know just how good you're making him feel.

With a tiny ltitle whine you make your way to his chin all the way down to his neck just to cover his soft skin in open mouthed kisses. You know you can't leave your marks, he's a business man after all, yet you can't take it away from yourself to avoid the pretty little birthmark on the left side of his neck.

"There you go, that's Daddy's good girl", Jay grunts as soon as you suck the skin into your mouth and basically set his whole body on fire.

The hoodie he's wearing has never felt as suffocating as it does in this particular moment, but you're faster than he is.

You're eager and needy, too far gone to even notice the look of pride grazing his features when you reach for the hem of his hoodie and pulling it over his head along with his shirt.

Jongseong's usually not the type to let go of his control so easily but the way you simply take what you want because you know he'd give it to you anyway makes him want to become nothing but the realisations of your deepest fantasies.

With other women he'd feel the need to remain composed and collected but with each one of your needy kisses down his tattoo covered chest, Jay can tell how much you're enjoying his compliance.

The sudden worry about not being what you actually want however, remains in the back of his mind as he watches you climb down his lap and in between his spread legs to litter every ounce of skin in your sweet kisses.

"Baby", he grunts and chokes on his breath at the same time, the unexpected grip on his hard cock leaving him overwhelmed, "let Daddy take care of you, please. Be a good girl for me."

But his words fall on deaf ears. You've been dreaming and fantasising about pleasuring him for the past who knows how long and after allowing him to do as he's just said, you're degermined to finally give him back what he deserves.

"Angel girl, ple–", "Please, Daddy. I wanna make you feel good, too. Want to be what you deserve."

"Oh, Baby. You always make me feel so good. You take such good care of me, I'm so fucking lucky."

Just as usual, Jongseong's words instantly push you into the sweetest headspace you've ever been in and with a little pout, you press your cheek against his clothed thigh too look up at him, not knowing what that particular sight is doing to the young businessman.

"Go ahead, Baby", he sighs and caresses your cheek with his knuckles, "do whatever you want to me. Daddy's all yours. use me, my body, my cock, it all belongs to you. I belong to you, pretty girl."

You feel hypnotised by the way he speaks to you. Every word seems to carry a single emotion, yet all of them ooze nothing but affection and adoration, something you have never experienced in your life before.

Which is probably why you don't even manage to form a simple sentence, just greedily reaching for the babd of his sweats, only for Jay to stop you mid-movement.

"Good girls use their manners, Baby. You always respond to Daddy, okay?"

"Yes, Daddy."

The response easily slides off your tongue and the look of pride in Jongseong's pretty eyes leaves you lightheaded.

And within just a few seconds, you carelessly disregard Jay's sweats along with his boxers on your bedfoom floor, your whole focus remaining on his thick cock in your hands.

Different than he would have expected, you don't hesitate to wrap your pretty lips around his leaking tip, your tongue lapping up every drop of precum before you decided to pull away and lick your way from his shaft all the way up, easily eliciting a row of deep moans from your usually so composed boss.

"That's it, Baby, so f-fucking good." Of course Jay doesn't hold back with his praise as the feeling of your hot mouth around his throbbing cock sends dizzying jolts of pleasure through his whole body.

You're quick to take more than half of his length into your mouth, tryingy our best to get as much as possible, only for your gag reflex to stop you.

"It's okay, pretty girl", Jong reassures you upon noticing the way you've furrowed your brows in frustration, too adamant about taking the entirety of his impressize size down your throat, "we'll work on that some other time, yeah? You're doing ducking amazing for me, making me feel so good."

"Thank you, Daddy", you sigh and rub rhe tip of his cock against your saliva covered lips, spreading his precum all over them as you look up at him with those eyes.

Jay's never seen eyes as pretty as yours and if it wasn't for the way you're bavk to wrapping your lips around his cock, he would have spent another fifteen minutes just admiring how pretty they are.

"F-Fuck, Baby", the feeling of hitting the back of your tight throat has his toes curling in despair, "wanna come and sit on my cock now, hm? Am not gonna last much longer, I've missed you too much and your mouth is t-too good."

To hear a usually so confident and well spoken Park Jongseong stumbling over his words like a child is something you never knew you need up until this particular moment.

For a second, you don't even understand what he's saying, too focuse on the way he seems to feel to even stutter.

"Baby", this time his voice gives off more warning vibes and make you realise that you've been subconsciously sucking on the tip of his to gue while being stuck in awe about his mannerisms.

"Take those pretty panties off, leave the camisole on and sit on Daddy's cock. Wanna cum inside of that pretty little cunt."

"Mhm, yes", you reply hectically, standing on yojr knees in between his legs, only to stop in your tracks and correct yourself with wide eyes, "I mean – yes, Daddy."

"Good girl", Jay leans back with his lips stretching into one of his pretty smirks as he casually watches the way you clumsily pull your drenched panties down your thighs and then your legs.

"Show them to me", he suddenly demands, his big hand firmly placed on your naked thigh, gently groping the soft flesh, "I wanna see what a mess you've made of yourself just from sucking Daddy's cock."

"But – it's embarrassing", you whisper shyly and push his hand higher up your body, knowing he'll understand exactly what you want and as soon as Jay take sone of your sensitive tits into his big palm, you cock your head to the side and pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Come on, Baby, there's no need to be embarrassed. I carry great pride in what only I can do to you and that perfect pussy", he mumbles and yet again easily convinces you to just as you're told, so without missing another beat, you lift your panties up and show him the big, wet spot in the center of the soft fabric.

"Good girl. Now get on my lap, pretty girl and sit on my cock, show me how good you can take me."

And as you've come to realise in the past few weeks, you don't need to be told twice when it comes to Park Jongseong.

With your bottom lip firmly tugged between your teeth, you straddle his thighs and let out a loud whine at the feeling of his bare cock against your wet cunt, the sudden stimulation resulting in you almost instantly burying your face in his neck.

"You're so fucking wet, Baby", Jay geunts and guides your hips to move your oussy against the length of his sensitive cock.

"For you, Daddy", you whimper and suddenly lift your hips up right before pushing your hand in between your bodies to take hold of him, "only for you."

"That's my good girl. My perfect little angel, come on, guide me inside and look at me while you do it. Wanna see how good you look when you're taking my cock."

You're already following his instructions before he can finish speaking, his voice growing more and more hoarse as you rub the tip of his cock against the hot flesh of your wet cunt, only to line it up with your sensitive hole right after.

Not a single word is being exchanged from the moment you slowly start sinking down on his thick cock. The stretch this part comes with usually enough to drown the both of you in the rawest pleasure possible.

Your high pitched moans meet his deep grunts in the thick air of your bedroom and as he finally bottoms out, your reach behind him to hold onto the headboard of your bed, your knuckles turning white from your tight grip but there's no way you can stop yourself from cumming all over him if not for tensing all your muscles.

"Fuck", is the first coherent thing to fall pst Jay's swollen lips, "you're so fucking tight, Baby. It's like I didn't spend hours stretching you out before."

You try to move, yet are quickly humbled when a stingy pain shoots through your body and you know you have to wait another minute to adjust to his impressive size.

"It's because you're so big, Daddy", you whimper and look at him with big, glossy eyes.

"Yeah? Is it big, Baby? Too big for your tiny cunt, hm?", a hint of faux sympathy echoes in his deep voice and you can't help but whine in response to his slightly teasing tone.

You start nodding like you've lost every single word in your vocabulary,

It doesn't take you as long as you initially thought and by the time Jay throws his head back to let out one of the hottest moans you've ever heard, you've already figured out a rhythm which hits each and every single one of your sweet spots.

Of course Jongseong doesn't hold back with his dirty words, continually talks about how good you feel, you tight you are and how he's going to fill you up to the brim with his cum because food girls deserve just that.

You're nothing but a mess, not a single understandable word leaving your lips, just a row of needy whines and high pitched whimpers begging him to just please never stop.

You're so far gone, so lost in the sweet haze of your pleasure, you don't even notice the way Jay sneaks his hand between your bodies and casually starts rubbing firm circles into your hardened clit.

"Oh", you moan and look at him with big eyes when he suddenly meets the movements of your hips with his own thrusts, easily hitting that one particular spot inside of you until you can actually taste the sweetness of your high on the tip of your tongue.

"I can feel it", Jay chuckles and pushes his hand into your hair to geab a fistful of it, pulling your face closer to his, "you're going to cum for me, aren't you, Baby? Gonna make a mess of Daddy's cock like the good girl you are, isn't that right, my sweet angel?"

"Yes, Daddy", you whine and push your forehead against his, heavily breathing against his lips as your moans become louder by the second.

"Look at my pretty little girl, using her Daddy's cock like she owns it." You know he's teasing you, pushing you to the edge and playing with your patience, yet at this point there's no way for you to think the slightest bit rationally.

"Because I do", you say firmly, "it's mine. You belong to me."

"Fuck, yes", Jay lands a harsh spank on your sensitive ass, never once halting his hips from thrusting up into you, "claim me, Baby. I'm all yours. You fucking own me."

And it's those exact words of affirmation which finally push you over the edge and leave you absolutely breathless as you stumble head first into your much needed high.

As soon as your toght cunt starts tightening even more around his sensitive cock, Jongseong presses his lips against yours and quickly thrusts his cock all the way into you, making sure to graze the entrance of your womb with his tip just so he can fill you up with every single drop of his cum.

Heavy breathing, a mixture of his grunts and your moans as well as the thick scent of sex fills the space of your bedroom while the two of you try to calm yourselves down and if there's one thing as satisfying as the act kn itself to you, it's the aftermath.

"So fucking good", Jongseong sighs and wraps his arms around your shoulders, "you fucked me so well, Baby. Daddy's so proud of you."

For some reason those heartfelt words hit you a lot harder than you expected and with gesry eyes you lift your head from his neck to meet his tired gaze.

"Thank you, Daddy", you whisper against his lips and love the way Jay doesn't hesitate to kiss you.

"Let's calm down and then I'm gonna pamper you like a good girl deserves, yeah? Gonna let Daddy take over mow, hm? Is that okay, angel girl?"

Who in their right mind would ever reject such a sweet request?

And just as usual, Jongseong stays true to his words and gives you the sweetest, most gentle and genuine aftercare you've ever experienced. Not only does he run you a bath, he also makes sure to keep you hydrated, massage your body, take care of your night time skincare routine, feed you snacks and hold you close to his body as you allow the exhaustion of the day finally get the best of you.

"You're so good to me, Daddy", you mumble against his chest and place a soft kiss against his warm skin, not knowing you're driving rhe butterflies in his stomach into insanity, "thank you so much."

"Anything for my perfect girl. I'd lay the world to your feet if you let me, Baby. Thank you for giving me what I've been missing all my life."

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

(A/N: AND IT FINALLY HAPPENED 🤕 im super sleepy rn so pls ignore the typos but omg you guys have no idea how patiently ive been counting down the chaps and we have finally made it. daddy dom jongseong has officially entered the chat and i'm SO ready fo indulge in it. please please please dont hold back with letting me know what you think, you guys know inlove reading y'all's thoughts 🥺 thank you sm for all the love and support, sendinc everyone kisses! feedback in form of asks, comments or messages is always appreciated babies!💞🧸)

TAGLIST CLOSED: @soonigiri @xrr-s4sha @kwiwin @heelcvr @deobitifull @kpoprhia @doodlelibrary @abrazosolorcereza @certifiedmoa @sleeping-demons @heerinnie @ohmy-moonlightx @heeswif3y @hoonieluv @fakeuwus @jjaeyuns @cheybabey @ineedsomezzz @super-amberlynn @kshoshi @tinie03 @jseongies @mimikittysblog @primroselover @heebrry @jebetwo @donghyckl @07myonlylove @enhamysunshines @quemirasboboandapaya @lostwonderwall @seuomo @enhaz1 @teawithbucky @beomgyusonlywife @dammit-jjk @lhsvibez @azurez @boutyouwonu @finchyyy @ocyeanicc @jaylaxies @in-somnias-world @zerasari @spookyauthorspopmusictrash @capri-cuntz @fluerz @3amstarlight

[songmingisthighs]

Wanbelyn

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. lxx - good girl

neurosurgeon!hongjoong × reader

buy me coffee ?

where love and peace is held, i never expected for this to happen. i planned and i planned, i expected, and i hoped, but it was never you. you held what i wanted hostage to make room for you, the thing that i needed but has no means of acceptance. deny me, live your best life.

At this point, you found yourself in somewhat of a choreographed dance with the father and son duo manoeuvring the child in question. Usually, you would have to move quickly between taking Kijoong's things out of the car and making sure that he wouldn't make a run for it, even going as far as installing a car seat, iPad holder, and small containers of cereal and snacks, effectively turning your car into a mom car. Now, you simply needed to focus on Kijoong because Hongjoong would instinctively take your bag and any of Kijoong's belongings with him. Then, the two of you would basically lock Kijoong's hands in each of yours and making sure that Kijoong wouldn't have any means of escaping or running away as your bodies would block his sides.

You both call it "inmate transfer" and others pointed out that it's actually called "the family hold". You both were confident that "inmate transfer" is correct.

"I think I stuffed myself stupid," Hongjoong huffed, taking a moment to readjust his pants before resuming the walk back to the elevator from his dedicated parking spot. You couldn't help but snicker in amusement at the way he was so comfortable with you, totally different from the person you first knew less than three months ago. "I told you not to get a second plate, Joong, this is all on you," you teased which caused Kijoong to chirp, "Yeah, Joong," he teased, sticking his tongue out at his dad. Hongjoong squinted his eyes at the two of you, "Hey, I finished my main course, I EARN that dessert. And you had some, (y/n), you can't talk shit about my decision," he huffed before crouching down to Kijoong's height, "And that's daddy to you, mister," he said, poking Kijoong's nose.

Teasingly, you raised an eyebrow at Hongjoong, "You asked me to spend my day off with you and Kijoong, I think I reserve the right to call you out for eating a plate of two waffles drenched in maple syrup and ice cream after finishing a whole ass pasta by yourself. And while we're on the subject, who eats carbonara at 10 am?" "Yeah, Joong, who?" Kijoong teased again, this time drawling to poke fun at his dad even more. "A hungry man using food as a reward for a week of hard work," he said in a mocking tone, causing you to raise an eyebrow, "So is this your way of telling me that I've done a good job?" you teased.

"Do you think you've done a good job?"

Suddenly there was a wave of seriousness over the two of you (Kijoong was blissfully unaware, of course, what with kicking pebbles around as he held onto your hands). You momentarily stop in your steps to look at Hongjoong, "What?" Hongjoong stopped in his tracks as well to look back at you, "Do you think you've done a good job so far? Are you satisfied? Are you happy working here?" Already had a feeling that the discussion was coming, you wasted no time in going straight to the point, "Is this about my employment ending?" Hongjoong was kind of glad that you brought it up first as he didn't really know how to say those exact words (In all honesty, Hongjoong didn't know how to say a lot of things to you but one conversation at a time). "Kind of, yeah," Hongjoong confirmed.

For a moment, you pursed your lips and resorted to continuing your walk to the elevator as Kijoong, still in his own world, tried to get you to kick the pebbles with him.

Feeling obligated to explain, Hongjoong opened his mouth again, "I should clarify, I'm not asking you because I'm reviewing your work or anything. In fact, I just want to know if you're happy which I think is the biggest factor in sticking with a job." You could tell that he was trying his best to not be confrontational and your lack of answer would soon make him cry. "Good because if that was your way of firing me after all that we have been through, I would be so pissed, I'd actually give Kijoong back his toy gun." Hearing his name and toy, Kijoong perked up and started jumping excitedly, "MY GUN!?" he exclaimed, hopeful but you immediately shot it down, patting his head with your free hand, "No sweetie, and please don't interrupt your daddy and I are talking."

Relieved, Hongjoong chuckled and shook his head, "At this point, it would make more sense if you leave in the middle of the night and move away to Antarctica or something. But I know you wouldn't," "Hey, I might," you pointed out, rolling your eyes, "Push my buttons enough times and I'll pull a disappearing act so fantastic, it would get Best Performance award at the Grammys or something." Hongjoong's eyes widened, thinking that you were serious, "What, you mean to tell me that you'd consider leaving us?" there was a slight panic in his voice that made you crack out rather loudly, "Oh my God, Joong, calm down! I was just joking! You know I love working with you and I'll be honest, I'm kind of attached to the cutie pies of apartment 801 so it would take a lot for me to not want to continue working with you," you said lightheartedly, pinching Kijoong's cheek affectionately.

It was only when you both stepped inside the elevator that Hongjoong realized what you just said. "Wait, did you just say 'cuties'? As in plural?" Confusedly, you raised an eyebrow at him, "Um, yeah? Why do you think I keep feeding you? You're basically Kijoong-sized XL and I love the boy to bits," this time, you couldn't help but scoop Kijoong into your arms and blew a raspberry on his cheek, making him giggle from the ticklish feeling. There was a mix of feelings that surged through Hongjoong's body and he couldn't pinpoint on the cause as the giddiness was so palpable he could taste it at the tip of his tongue. The sheer feeling rendered him speechless and he could only find his voice when the elevator door opened and the three of you stepped out.

"So... You love me?"

In all fairness, Hongjoong meant that as a joke. Or so he said. He so totally doesn't lowkey hope that you'd say yes. But he was totally expecting you to roll your eyes and call him stupid.

The last thing he expected was for you to step closer to him, nudge his hip with yours and grin, "What do you think, Joong? What do your own feelings tell you?"

A sudden wave of excitement-induced nausea washed over Hongjoong, his body forcing his brain to prepare to have the talk. The one talk he knew he had to have with you considering the revelation he made (through Seonghwa pointing it out but he was not about to give his friend the credit).

You saw that his brain was trying to connect the dots and it was entertaining, to say the least. But at that moment, it dawned on you that you had just opened the door to a conversation you had only planned to have but even that plan was not solid. So to feign being coy, you took quick steps to get to Hongjoong's apartment first. "Hey!" Hongjoong exclaimed when he realized that you had taken off on him and he followed suit. While the distance from the elevator to this unit was not long, he caught up with you quick but it was because you had stopped in your tracks in the middle of the hallway, eyes trailed forward which caused him to look in the same direction.

It was like seeing a ghost. Well, a ghost from his past. Because out of all the moments in the timeline of his life, he would never have expected to see the person he was seeing. Not after what happened in the past.

"Minhee?" he called out.

Minhee, his ex, pushed her body off of the door and smiled gently, eyes looking over to Hongjoong before it settled on you and then on the boy who looked at her confusedly, not knowing who she was but he was intuitive enough to sense that there was something going on. You took notice of this when Kijoong suddenly turned around and clung on your body, refusing to look at his birth mother.

You, on the other hand, couldn't help but stare at her. She looked like the pictures you had caught glimpses of when you were cleaning but... Happier. She looked pretty and well-kept, exactly like how a young lady from a respected family should what with her all-white get-up and expensive bag. The nasty side of your brain immediately made comparisons and you came to the conclusion that you and her were vastly different and though momentarily, the thought of her being the kind of person that made Hongjoong commit flashed, leaving a nasty remnant that felt itchy.

"Well, aren't you going to let an old friend in?" she smiled.

Hell, even her voice sounded nice.

How were you going to fare?

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[flowerandblood]

The Loved One (2/2)

[ modern • Aemond x Alys!sister • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, smut, angst, swearing, toxic behaviour and relations, manipulation, therapy ]

[ description: After the events of that night, Alys' sister tries to move on from what happened, proud that she didn't cause a tragedy. However, when it turns out that Alys' boyfriend has broken up with her the next day, her older sister becomes hysterical, and she wonders despairingly whether she was the reason of his decision. Lost, obsessive, distant, desperate Aemond. Anon request. ]

This is Part 2 of The Second One

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

Even though weeks had passed since that bizarre night, she couldn't forget what had happened. It didn't help that the next day her older sister called their mother crying, saying that this shithead had dared to leave her, to walk away after all she had endured for him.

She stared with big eyes at the pancakes lying on the plate in front of her, feeling the cold sweat on her neck and the rapid pounding of her heart, listening to her mother's puzzled questions trying to calm her down, saying in a trembling voice that maybe it would be better this way, that after all they were still fighting.

Alys seemed to have forgotten everything that happened between them and what he had said to her the day before – she felt tears under her eyelids hearing her sobbing, her helpless confession that she loved him and didn't want to live without him.

She felt his hand between her thighs, his tongue deep inside her throat.

She was ashamed that she had barely held back, that she had refused him with difficulty, that some part of her wanted him to stay.

To fuck her.

She swallowed loudly, feeling herself shudder at the memory of the piece of paper he had slipped under her door and what was written on it.

I wish I had met you before her.

She felt a kind of discomfort at the thought of being possessed by some kind of terror and satisfaction, because she was bonded with him by a secret that no one knew about but them.

A moment later, however, she recalled how awful things he had said about Alys, how objectively he had treated her, and that he would have done exactly the same with her if she had not regained her sobriety of mind in time.

She has big tits and a big ass.

She sucks cock well.

She shook her head, feeling that it made her sick to her stomach at the thought, and got up from the table, unable and unwilling to listen to it, recognising that her sister was right.

They were made for each other.

To her despair, Alys came to their house again later that day. She paid no attention to her, directing her despair and pain towards their mother, telling her that he wasn't taking her calls, that he had blocked her number, that he had simply texted her briefly and that was it.

"How could he do this, after so many years. We've been through so much together and he breaks up with me over a fucking text message? Like a fucking kid, no conversation, no explanation?" She heard her mumbling coming from the living room and their mother's voice trying to reassure her – she stood in the dark hallway of their house, eavesdropping involuntarily, thinking with some kind of amusement that it was obvious he had ended it that way.

She shuddered when she heard her name and the fact that her sister had stood up: she ran quickly upstairs, fearing that the subject of their argument and what she had accused him of would now cause her to lash out at her.

True to her intuition, Alys knocked on the door to her room after a while – her mother tried to calm her down but she interrupted her saying that she just wanted to talk, that it was possible she knew of something more.

They stepped inside: her older sister grunted as she tried to quiet herself down, wiping her smudged make-up with her fingers, her face red from tears.

"I'm sorry for his inappropriate behaviour yesterday. He kept staring at you, too sure to get me off balance. Did he bother you after I left?" She asked, putting her hands in front of her, as if this question was a formality for her.

Something in the way she said it, in her conviction that it all revolved around her, that she was asking it not because she was worried about her but because she wanted to prove something to herself made any sympathy and remorse she had felt a moment before disappear.

She told me about you. What an ugly duckling you are. That you don’t know how to dress well, don’t know how to accentuate your figure and your assets. That you hide yourself in big sweatshirts and sit with your nose in books instead of really living and that there’s nothing to talk to you about because you can’t converse about anything interesting.

She recognised that she had acted appropriately – she had cut whatever was going on in time and told him to leave, so she didn't feel the need to admit anything.

"He wanted to talk to me about Gombrowicz, presumably so that I would repeat it to you later and to arouse your jealousy. I told him to leave and that's what he did." She replied softly so that her words were not a complete lie – her sister pressed her lips together, clearly displeased by her statement, her nostrils quivering in uncertainty and rage.

She had no such intention.

"Is that all? He didn't want anything else?" She asked coolly.

She raised her eyebrows and laughed dryly, recognising that for some reason all this amused her – the thought that her little sister about whom she had said such things might have taken away something that belonged to her.

Take him, she thought.

You're both sick.

"Me? Please. I told him clearly not to involve me in your affairs and use me against you." She said indifferently. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that her sister had turned purple – she swallowed loudly as if she was afraid of what she was about to hear.

"What did he say to you?" She asked in a trembling voice forcing herself to be calm, from which she felt a thrill of satisfaction.

"A lot of things. For example, what you say about me. What a caring, good sister you are. How much you worry about me, with what tenderness you think of me." She replied while playing with the pencil lying on her desk, not even looking at her, feeling the awkward silence that had fallen around them.

"I…after all, you know that I would never say anything in bad faith. I get upset with you sometimes, like any sister, I don't understand you, it's true, but I love you, you know that. God, that fucking liar and manipulator!" She growled helplessly, fiddling with her necklace between her fingers in a nervous gesture, looking pleadingly at their mother as if hoping for her support in the matter.

"If he's a liar and a manipulator, why do you want to be with him?" She asked tiredly and impatiently, no longer feeling anything but grief and disapproval.

"That's how we are, both of us…like fire, we argue and come back, it's always been that way." She muttered, and she swallowed hard, thinking with relief that the fact that she had refused him was the wisest decision of her life.

"Do what you want, don't get me involved. Leave." She said dryly, taking a book from her shelf, Trans-Atlantyk by Witold Gombrowicz.

Alys left her room, clearly furious that the conversation hadn't gone according to her plan, that she couldn't go on playing the victim, the one innocent and perpetually abused.

She thought she wanted nothing to do with them.

A few weeks passed and she slowly began to forget about the situation even though Alys couldn't get over it – she knew she was now on some sleeping pills, immersed in utter despair.

She figured that sooner or later she would find someone else – she just prayed that he wouldn't change his mind and come back to her, because she didn't know how she would bear the sight of him in her house.

However, something happened that she had not expected at all.

One evening she received a message from an unknown number.

She opened it and frowned after she read its contents.

Block it and delete it? Threaten him with telling Alys and her mother everything?

She felt her heart start pounding like crazy, a cold sweat on the back of her neck – she covered her mouth with her hand, terrified, wondering where he had got her number, what was she supposed to do now.

She was afraid of what he was capable of, that he might start talking about the fact that she had let him stay with her after all, that something more than a kiss had happened.

She swallowed loudly as she looked at her screen and slowly typed out a reply on her phone's keypad.

She shuddered when, a moment later, her display lit up again and she opened the message from him with her heart beating fast.

She sent it, clenching her eyes, thinking with despair that her answer was too aggressive, that it would surely enrage him, that she would regret all that had happened, her stupid moment of weakness.

She looked at what he'd written without knowing for herself what she felt, her throat squeezed so tightly that she had trouble breathing. She jumped when the messages began to appear one after another.

She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself, angry at herself for letting him do this to her, telling her what she wanted to hear, putting himself in the role of a disappointed and disillusioned man who needed comforting.

She read everything he wrote with an expression of disbelief, completely shocked by this sudden externalisation. She felt her heart squeeze, her body trembling in horror at the fact that he was trying to play with her again, unwittingly giving her what she wanted.

He knew she longed to be appreciated, to be important to someone, to be the only one, to do something her sister had failed to do.

To fix him.

He was giving her himself on a plate, distraught, seeking comfort and refuge, an opportunity for her to prove herself, to show to herself that she was better, more tender, smarter than her sister.

She felt tears of helplessness and humiliation gathering at the corners of her eyes, and swallowed loudly, typing out a message on her phone.

She sent the message and breathed out loud, covering her face with her hands, wondering in pain why he was doing this to her, why he was being so cruel.

Did he want to prove something to himself, to stab her sister in the back with her help?

She shuddered when she heard her phone vibrate and unlocked it quickly, her lips dry with stress.

She didn't know why she burst into sobs after reading his message, why she felt so sad, embittered and humiliated.

I wish I had met you before her.

Why was he doing this to her?

Why was he messing with her head?

For some reason, because of everything she had read, she felt even worse, the pain that ripped through her heart seemed unbearable.

Some part of her wanted to believe him.

She had trouble sleeping, going back to what he had written again and again, once wanting to block him, then immediately deciding that there was no need, that he had clearly given her peace.

She knew she should forget about him, but she couldn't.

Therefore, she tried to concentrate on her studies. Her classes filling her entire days – she even took extra lessons, wanting to be away from home in the evenings as well.

Walking through the large, neo-Gothic hall, she came across a poster hanging on the notice board, announcing open lectures taking place every week on Thursday at 7pm, on the works of Orwell, Kafka, Dostoyevsky and Gombrowicz, entitled 'The Fall of the World'.

She thought the whole thing sounded extremely tempting, and as she loved all these writers, she decided to attend at least once.

The lecture was held in a library that anyone could enter to make things easier for outside listeners – when she went inside most of the seats at the tables were already taken.

She stopped in mid-step, wanting to back away, but it was too late; the tall, well-built figure of a blond-haired man sitting in one of the chairs turned towards her involuntarily, his gaze expressing shock.

"Miss Rivers, welcome! Please, take a seat." Professor Moore, the same one who had lectured to her year on twentieth-century world literature, spoke to her.

She nodded, horrified that it would be at least odd if she left now, so she sat down in one of the empty seats trying not to look at the sinister, inscrutable man sitting a few seats away.

She felt ashamed that some part of her was glad to see him, as if she hoped to meet him again.

"Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four is an extremely heavy read, filled with metaphors, and yet, the author foretold something in it, perfectly describing what communism led to, the fear of surveillance and propaganda, the feeling that everyone is an informer, that no one can be trusted, can be observed in a large part of contemporary Russian citizens. Cut off from non-state information sources, from certain parts of the internet, they live in the conviction that their country cares about them, that the security services are following them and spying on them for their own good. Some even firmly believe that this is for the best. Don't you think it's frightening that something Orwell predicted actually happened, on top of it earlier than he thought?" Asked her professor – she raised her hand, recognising that if she allowed herself to be drawn into the discussion, she would stop thinking about the man who sat a few chairs away.

He let her speak with a nod.

"Orwell wrote this book in 1945, already knowing what Nazism and Communism were. He did not understand how Western Europe could have agreed to recognise Stalin as one of the victors and lead, as a result, to the so-called Iron Curtain in later years. This book was his warning, his sense that we had crossed some line of dehumanisation after Auschwitz that had never happened before in the world." She said on one exhale, a second person, an older man also raised his hand.

"He may have known, but he also felt under his skin that it would not end with communism and Nazism. And he was right. The place of these groupings is being taken by others, just as threatening, also talking about the rights of the nation or the equality of all. We forget that Hitler and Lenin also originally floated on fine words." Said the man, several people nodded their heads in agreement. She shuddered when she heard another voice, familiar to her, speak up without permission, impatient.

"Orwell was not an idiot. If he had wanted to deal with the problem of the rise of political sects, he would have started with that, but he places the plot in the course of events when the state is completely subordinated to the apparatus of power. We hope for a happy ending, a complete victory, but Orwell recognises that there was no such thing after the Second World War. Nuremberg held Germany to account, but not Russia or Japan. Nowadays we don't even talk about their crimes – we delight in their culture and history forgetting whose side they were on, often committing far worse crimes than Hitler."

He glanced at her, as if to see how she would react to his words, to his voice, and momentarily dropped his gaze, as if embarrassed, caught off guard.

He said coldly.

She was surprised by how accurate this observation was.

She looked at him involuntarily – he was sitting with his profile to her, his jaw clenched, the fingers of his hand stretched out on the tabletop moving restlessly, playing with the pen that lay before him.

"Each of these three comments is exceptionally apt. The anxiety that Orwell arouses accompanies us in our daily lives right up to the present day, and somehow he has managed to create a vision of a universal totalitarian system that suits every one that has been mentioned. Let us now turn to the specific chapters…"

They passed the rest of the lecture discussing whether there really was any resistance movement at all, or whether it was just a contrived idea used to catch would-be rebels and break their will even before they could really stand up to anyone.

Somehow the conversation about the book had put her in a depressed, gloomy state; when the professor thanked them and said they were seeing each other next week she wasn't sure she'd come a second time.

Even more so if she was to see him during them.

They were open lectures and he had a right to be there, but she was already tired.

She heard his footsteps behind her and knew it was him when she felt his large hand grab her gently by her arm.

"Wait. I'm sorry. I really didn't know you were coming −"

"− I know. You have nothing to apologise for." She said softly, wanting to pull away from him, but he didn't let her go – even though she wasn't looking at him she could feel his burning gaze, his heat, his raspy breath on her cheek.

"− I don't know yet −" She replied in a shaky, tired voice, feeling that her heart was pounding like crazy. For some reason she felt tears burning under her eyelids – at the same time she wanted him to give her peace and not to do it, something in his darkness, in his unpredictability attracted her.

"− promise you'll come next week − that you won't give up because of me −" He said in a low voice.

She felt embarrassment and a squeeze in her throat at the thought that she wasn't sure if he meant that he didn't want her to give up her interests because of him, or that he was hoping to see her again.

She thought with despair that perhaps it was the same thing that kept Alys from forgetting him.

He grunted and let her go, clearly sensing that he had held her for too long, an awkward silence full of tension fell between them.

"I'm not going to lie. I was hoping to see you here." He murmured lowly, lowering his gaze, slipping his hands into the pockets of his trousers, the black turtleneck he wore perfectly framing his well-built, broad chest.

She pressed her lips together at his words, adjusting the straps of her backpack hanging over her shoulders in an involuntary, nervous gesture, unsure what she was supposed to respond to such a confession, feeling heat in her lower abdomen at the thought that for some reason he didn't want to forget her.

"Why are you doing this? What else do you want from me?" She asked embittered, looking up at him at last – he lifted his gaze to her, fear, desperation and shame in his eyes.

He swallowed loudly, as if he didn't know what he should answer, looking at her in silence.

"I missed you." He muttered quietly, embarrassed like a small child. She shook her head, her eyebrows arched in pain and disbelief.

"What?"

"I missed you. The way I felt back then."

"For God's sake, we only spoke once, what do you miss? The adrenaline that was bubbling inside you at the thought that maybe I'd be naive enough to let you fuck me? I let you into my room, into my life only for you to humiliate me. You are a cruel man."

She mumbled out while bursting into a loud, uncontrollable sob, covering her face with her hand. She heard in disbelief that his reaction to her words was identical – he embraced her and pulled her close, hugging her to his chest and although she wanted to push him away, she couldn't.

"− I didn't mean to hurt you − I swear, I really just wanted to talk, I couldn't sleep, I was angry − what happened next −" He mumbled out, his voice stuck in his throat – he drew in a sudden, shaky breath of air, swallowing loudly.

"− I just − I don't know, I have no idea what came over me, I never cheated on her, I swear − I swear −" He babbled, both of them crying loudly, her hands rose higher and tightened on his back – she felt both pain and relief at the thought that he was as embarrassed and heartbroken as she was.

"− can we start again? − as if we had never met? −" He asked pleadingly and she, not knowing why, nodded, thinking she wanted to leave it all far, far behind.

Although they both calmed down after a moment, they still lingered in each other's embrace – a pleasant shiver ran down her spine as she felt his large hand stroke her hair and back with a calm gesture full of care, her face snuggled into his warm chest, her nostrils filled with his masculine scent.

She shuddered and swallowed loudly as his lips placed a drawn-out, hot kiss on the top of her head, her breath caught in her throat when she felt something pulsate hard in his trousers.

They pulled away from each other, wiping their faces, both pretending nothing had happened – he breathed out loud, combing his hair in a light, careless gesture, his cheeks red with emotion.

"− see you −" He muttered, and although she knew she shouldn't, she showed up for the next lecture.

And then the next and the next.

Each time he sat down next to her, close, too close, his legs splayed comfortably making his knee pressed against hers, but she didn't move away, herself getting something out of the situation that she couldn't name.

Her sister had told her mother on the phone that she had moved on, that she wasn't going to trouble herself with this bastard, told her about their endless arguments, about how he would raise his voice and throw things, leave in the middle of a conversation slamming the door, about how he always acted like a spoilt little child when he didn't get what he wanted.

She knew that she was leaving out of these arguments what she herself had said and done in an obvious attempt to create a narrative of his one-sided aggression, however, despite being malicious and ironic, she was struck by how completely different his view of the whole thing was.

Sometimes the two of them would buy warm tea from the vending machine and spend spring evenings in the university park sitting on the grass on his leather jacket, just talking – since they had both cried and cuddled he had not tried to touch her or otherwise invade her personal space.

"My family has always been involved in the modeling industry. Big money, big banquets, fashion shows in Paris and Venice. I always despised it, but what could be done? My father expected me and my siblings to take over his inheritance, on top of which his daughter from his first marriage was fighting for a bigger share than she was originally entitled to. It was some kind of nightmare." He muttered, taking a sip of the hot liquid from a small cardboard cup, looking somewhere ahead with a blank stare, the sun was setting behind the beautiful neo-Gothic red brick buildings.

"To be honest, it never interested me. I was into art, but not this half-world. When I met your sister I liked the fact that she was going after what she wanted. Of course, she wasn't the first chick to want to go to bed with me for the obvious benefits, but her impudence was downright endearing in a way. Only later did I realise that it was impudence mixed with calculating. But we were both too proud to let go, to be the weak link."

He sighed and shrugged his shoulders, finally looking at her with the same tired, resigned eyes she had seen for weeks – she couldn't tell if what he was saying and showing her was the truth or just his game.

But who would want to pretend for so long?

He lowered his gaze, scratching his cheek with his thumb, seeing in her eyes that she remained wary of him, that she did not trust him.

She herself didn't know why she had allowed him to spend time together, only to find with sadness that some part of her wanted to understand him.

"I'm afraid you won't be able to undo what's happened inside your head without the help of a professional." She said softly, looking down at the cup she held between her hands on her thighs. She heard him swallow hard – she knew this topic was not comfortable for him.

"If you really do it, I'll go with you." She said quietly, feeling a sense of discomfort, knowing she shouldn't do it, on the other hand realising that her mother had made sure Alys visited the psychiatrist at least a few times, and he needed it just as badly.

"Will you come with me? If I make an appointment." He muttered in a low, hoarse voice. She looked at him in disbelief, feeling a tightness in her throat, once again surprised by his behaviour and his words.

She did not believe that he would do so, recognising that this was part of his plan to soften her up.

Nevertheless, after a few days she received a message from him with the address of the doctor's office and the time of the appointment.

She turned up at the place indicated, lying to her mother that she had gone to the University Library – the office of the man he had mentioned was in fact in the suburbs, and next to the door to the building was a nameplate with his profession.

A few minutes before the time he pulled up in a big, shiny black SUV, dressed in a black tight T-shirt tucked into black trousers, a watch on his wrist – when he got out he looked stressed and unhappy, she knew he really didn't want to do that.

He lit a quick cigarette even though he only had a few minutes left before his visit and she thought he would cowardly tell her that he didn't feel like it after all, that he didn't have to do it, that he was already feeling better.

"Is it really necessary? Externalising myself to some fucking asshole for my money?" He asked coldly, taking a drag on his cigarette with a quiet hiss. She looked at him feeling a squeeze in her chest, tears of regret under her eyelids at the thought that she had spent so much of her time and effort on him only to realise that he was exactly as she had imagined him to be.

"− I'm sorry − thank you, little one − if it wasn't for you I wouldn't have come here at all −" He muttered low, taking a quick drag a few times, extinguishing the remnants of his cigarette on a bin standing nearby, letting the smoke out loudly through his nose.

Seeing the look on her face he swallowed loudly and lowered his gaze to his feet, wiping his forehead with the back of the hand in which he held the cigarette in a nervous gesture.

She had the impression that his body was quivering.

He startled her when he stepped inside, so she moved behind him, both of them heading up the steps past the signs straight into the cabinet. She watched as he sighed heavily and knocked, a middle-aged man who could have been their father opened the door for him after a moment.

"This is my friend I mentioned. I want her to be there when we talk." He said lowly, and she froze, looking at his back in disbelief as he stepped inside, convinced that he just wanted her to wait for him outside.

She lowered her gaze, horrified at the thought that he would be telling him his problems, his most intimate secrets in front of her, but she wasn't sure she could refuse when he had already taken such a big step forward.

The doctor smiled at her and, with a gesture of his hand, encouraged her to go inside, so she did, taking a seat on the other side of the sofa, the doctor sat opposite them.

"Please tell me what brings you to me."

He began – she stared at a flower in a pot standing at the other end of the office, feeling like an intruder, as if she was eavesdropping on someone's conversation and had no idea what she should do with herself.

"I tend to be verbally aggressive. I tend to get involved in toxic relationships with other toxic people and I'm like that myself."

She heard his low voice and swallowed loudly, somehow appreciating his self-criticism, the fact that he saw the problem holistically.

"Let's start with the first sentence. What do you think verbal aggression means?"

"I know what to say to hurt someone. I know it, I do it on purpose and I get satisfaction from it."

"Please say something more about this feeling of satisfaction."

He remained silent for a moment – she heard him shrug his shoulders, impatient.

"The feeling of power."

"What do you feel after that, when the satisfaction passes?"

"Emptiness."

She looked at him uncertainly, fiddling nervously with the fabric of the dress covering her thighs, feeling that her whole body was tense, a cold sweat on her back.

"A lot of people get addicted to adrenaline. Also from arguments, aggression or violent sex. The lack of affection and security is filled with temporary emotions, and their absence causes similar symptoms to alcohol rehab. When you regain control you see yourself and the world as it is."

He remained silent.

Said the doctor. She saw him just nod at his words, swallowing hard, looking at his hands, seeing with horror that he was picking at the cuticles around his nails creating tiny wounds.

"You mentioned that you consider yourself a toxic person and get into a relationship with such people."

"Yes."

"Why do you judge yourself that way?"

The man asked, and he licked his lips in a quick impatient gesture.

"Because I am cruel to other people. Harsh and vicious."

"Please elaborate on that thought."

For the next half hour he talked about examples of his behaviour, how he despised models making a career out of bed, how deep down he loathed her sister and himself, the business he was forced to be stuck in, full of injustice and discrimination.

She listened to it feeling resentful towards him for deceiving her sister for so long, on the other hand hearing for the first time how Alys addressed him, what the beginning of their relationship was like.

"When I gave her what she wanted she was the sweetest, most submissive woman I knew. But if I didn't, she would turn into a screaming, spiteful creature telling me I was a cunt and a little child, so I didn't leave her hanging. What did she expect, that she would call me that and I wouldn't answer anything? That I didn't know she had nothing more to offer me than her body? What pissed me off about her wasn't that she lacked knowledge, it was that there was no curiosity about the world in her, that she didn't want to expand it, to understand more. Just fucking, partying and posing."

"But you still lasted in that relationship because, from what I understand, you were so comfortable. What changed?" The doctor asked, and she flinched as he glanced at her quickly, immediately looking away, swallowing loudly, terrified of what was about to leave his mouth.

"I think that I'm in love with someone."

She drew in air loudly, feeling tears under her eyelids, her whole body breathless – she felt the heat in her lower abdomen, that embarrassing, sticky wetness between her thighs.

She knew she shouldn't, but when he suggested after the visit that she go to his place, she agreed.

There was a kind of despair in the way he pressed her against the wall with a sudden motion as soon as the door closed behind them, the way his slick tongue forced its way between her swollen lips with his groan of relief, the way, with quick and sure movements, his hands slid the material of her underwear off her, which she threw off her legs with an impatient flick.

She knew she shouldn't, but she felt nothing but delight as he knelt in front of her looking at her with wide eyes. He lifted the material of her dress over her thighs, throwing her hip over his shoulder – she tilted her head back with a soft moan as his lips began to brush and kiss her hot, silky, weeping folds.

"− we can't −" She muttered, but she knew she'd only said it to feel a little less regret that it was so pleasurable, that her fingers clenched on his short hair as he cupped her little clit between his lips and began sucking on it, teasing her pulsing opening with the tip of his tongue again and again.

"− fuck − fuck −" She whimpered girlishly, rolling her hips involuntarily in rhythm with his strokes – a loud murmur of delight erupted from his throat at how much she was leaking, the sound of it running in vibration through her entire body.

"− I could spend all day like this − would you like it? −" He gasped between teasing motions of his tongue pushing its way between her sticky muscles, hot with arousal, a moan bordering on a cry broke from her throat as he began to tease the spongy spot hidden inside her from which his whole corridor seemed blurred to her.

"− stop −" She mumbled helplessly, panting loudly along with him, feeling his words deep inside her – her walls began to clench around nothing. He only grunted at her plea, stopping abruptly, rising from his knees: she settled again on both feet, feeling that her legs were trembling all over.

"− you can leave now, if you want − I won't stop you −" He breathed out, with a quick, sure movement of his fingers undoing the buckle from the belt of his trousers – she looked at him with her eyes wide open, feeling in her mind only that wonderful heat between her thighs.

"− be gentle − be gentle and don't mock me −" She muttered, and he grabbed her by her hair and pulled her close, their lips pressed together in an aggressive, sticky, loud kiss.

She squealed quietly as he lifted her easily, in an involuntary reflex she threw her arms around his neck, enclosing his waist between her legs, his moist mouth smelling of her wetness not pulling away for a moment as his one hand dealt with the material of his trousers and boxers.

The tips of his fingers ran over her cheek, his forehead pressed against hers as she felt the fat head of his cock push in between her weeping folds – they both moaned low, surprised, as his fingers dug into the soft skin of her thigh, forcing her to fit his long, thick erection deeper inside her.

"− fuck −" She whimpered, spreading her thighs wider – he looked down at her with eyes black with desire, his lips parted in a pathetic groan as her leaking walls let him all the way in.

"− god, little one − oh fuck −" He mumbled out with involuntary stabs of his hips thrusting into her as deeply as possible – they both moaned into each other's mouths as his lips pressed against hers again, her hands ran over his hair and down the nape of his neck, answered by his loud murmur of pleasure.

"− I've waited so long for this − you were already wet for me then, weren't you? − you wanted it inside you −" He breathed out, speeding up his pace, each push of his swollen cock teasing again and again the same spot he had squeezed with his tongue earlier, only a helpless moan of pleasure escaping from her chest, their bodies slapping against each other with a loud clicks of her moisture.

"− please − please, please, please −" She babbled between licks of their tongues and lips, his large hands clamped down on her ass, accelerating, the stabs of his hips opening her wide on his length again and again, her walls pulsing against him, sucking him inside.

"− oh, yes, that's it − gonna cum, baby? − gonna cum for me? −" He cooed slammed into her with his cock pulsing with lust. She nodded her head clenching her fingers in his hair, panting hard, and leaned back with a sweet moan as her body shook with convulsions, her walls began to throb and clench against him in pleasure.

"− god, yes − little one − where −" He muttered, and she only managed to whimper for him to come inside her, thanking God for the existence of the pills. She heard his low groan of relief and pleasure, a few messy, greedy thrusts of his hips were enough to make him spill inside her, their bodies twitching and quivering, shocked at how intense this close-up was.

For a long moment they both merely panted and kissed lazily, his hands running over the bare, hot skin of her buttocks, her fingers stroking his hair with his quiet murmur of pleasure.

"− so good − so kind − so pretty −" He hummed between their kisses, stroking the soft skin of her cheek with his thumb, shame overwhelmed her at the thought that she felt butterflies in her stomach at his words.

She knew she shouldn't do this, but she let him take her once more on his bed, his thighs slapping against her buttocks again and again with each desperate thrust of his hips, their naked bodies entwined together in a tight embrace, sweaty and hot.

"− fuck − fuck −" He panted into her mouth between greedy, messy, loud kisses, his wonderful scent filling her entire lungs, her naked breasts pressed against his chest, her fingers digging into the bare skin of his back.

"− mghm − m close −" She mumbled out, her walls oversensitive after her earlier fulfilment, the tip of his swollen cock rubbing again and again the spot inside her from which she felt shivers and tickling, the heat in her lower abdomen unbearable.

"− come on, little one − give me one more − that's it, fuck! −" He gasped loudly and bit his lower lip, trying to stifle the low groan of pleasure that ripped from his throat as her fleshy muscles began to throb in orgasm, sucking him inside.

She tried to push him away, delicate and sore, quivering and writhing beneath him, but he accelerated, slamming into her for a moment more with sure, deep thrusts.

"− I know, baby, just a moment longer − shhh −" He mumbled out before he reached his peak inside her for the second time, a soft, loud sigh of relief and delight escaping his lips.

He collapsed on top of her, burying his face in her hair, panting heavily along with her, their skin sticky from sweat and exertion, their hands trailing blindly over their naked bodies, wanting to remember and take everything possible from this moment.

"− stay with me, little one − please, stay with me −" He whispered softly, his voice trembling with emotion, with the feeling that she was going to try again to escape him, what he wanted and what it all meant.

She swallowed quietly and combed her fingers through his hair, looking up at the ceiling with slightly parted lips, breathing loudly, her body at once relaxed from another fulfilment and tense, filled with uncertainty and fear.

He could feel her hesitation – when he heard no response from her he lifted himself slowly on his arms, wanting to look at her face.

"− do you know what the real tragedy of this situation is? − that some part of me reciprocates your feelings − but I don't know how I could ever really trust you −" She whispered in a calm, low tone, feeling a lone tear of regret flow from the corner of her eye onto the pillow under her head smelling of his perfume, the adrenaline and endorphin stopped bubbling through her body, leaving only an emptiness inside her.

"− what I told that doctor is true − I want to change − want to be a person worth loving − I know I screwed up then −" He whispered, stroking her cheek with his large hand – she looked away, feeling her own body tremble, his thumb ran over her soft skin.

She felt him looking at her, completely unsure of what to say, his soft manhood still deep inside her.

He slipped out of her gently after a moment, standing up without a word, grabbing his trousers which were lying on the floor, standing with his back to her, putting them on, not even giving her a single glance.

She stood up too, clenching her lips so tightly that she felt like they were purple, her throat twitching all over in a sob that she didn't let escape, but she couldn't hold back the tears of horror, shame and disappointment that flooded her face.

She didn't look at him when she left, when she ran down the stairs and simply left the building, moving in front of her, trying to think soberly where she was and what bus stop she should go to in order to get home.

She heard a vibration in her backpack after a while, her phone ringing and ringing, but she didn't even take it out, not knowing what else they were going to say to each other.

It was obvious that he had never respected or taken her sister seriously, and while it was obvious that she wanted him, she couldn't believe that the depth of his feelings were actually that great.

She felt that he had talked himself into this feeling, mythologised it and also her character, creating in his mind a tragic story of two lovers who had always been destined for each other, to further distance himself in his mind and mock her sister's personality.

She arrived home pale but refrained from crying in front of her parents – she explained that she felt sick and would go to bed early.

However, not half an hour passed and she heard the screech of tyres on her driveway – she got up to the window and took a few steps backwards, startled to recognise his car, her throat squeezed so tight with fear that she felt like she was going to vomit.

She ran quickly downstairs hearing raised voices, his, her father's and her mother's, her mother clearly outraged at the sight of him and his insolence.

Will he tell them everything?

Will he humiliate her in front of her parents, entertain himself at her expense now?

Will he take revenge?

"How dare you show up here after all this? Have you no shame?"

"Did your younger daughter get home safely?"

"It is none of your business, young man, you are to leave our house immediately!"

Said her mother, enraged and heartbroken, her father threatened to call the police on him, but he lifted his gaze hearing her footsteps and spotted her on the half-floor standing on the stairs.

Something changed in his gaze – she saw that he swallowed hard, in his eyes pain, fatigue, regret and something else from which she ran out of breath.

"Thank you. I've already found out what I wanted." He said lowly, turning and simply walking away, closing the door behind him – her parents looked at her in disbelief, they heard the sound of the engine firing up.

"What did he mean? Why was he asking about you?" Asked her father, and she looked at them with her eyes wide open not knowing what to say.

Did he come just to check that she got home safely?

"After all, this man is unpredictable, look what he did to Alys. He's made her dependent on him, like a parasite he's put the idea in her mind that she won't be able to live without him."

"He goes to therapy. He asked me to go with him. He didn't want to be there alone." She told only part of the truth with shame, having no strength to pretend any longer. Her mother froze, looking quickly at her father and then back at her, her eyebrows arched in disbelief.

"And she did the same thing to him."

"What?"

"Alys was doing the same thing to him. He was showing me messages from her, mum. Sent from her number. That's why I went with him." She mumbled out and burst into sobs again, covering her face with her hand, her pain and regret finding an escape at last.

Her mother seeing her condition moved towards her and hugged her, in her embrace some kind of understanding – her father looked up at her from below with his hands placed on his hips and sighed heavily, shaking his head.

"Alys can't know."

For the next few days neither he nor she made contact. Some part of her was grateful to him for not pressuring her, for letting her put it all together in her head.

She herself did not know what she felt.

On the one hand, caution prevailed in her in his presence – she had the feeling that she was still waiting for some blow from him, an unexpected hit that would break her and prove to herself that he had been playing with her all this time for his own entertainment.

But then she remembered their conversation in the university courtyard, what he had said at the psychiatrist's.

I think that I'm in love with someone.

She read their long exchanges about poets, writers, but also about their thoughts and their lives, trying to find any trace of a lie or manipulation in them, but was pained to find that, although it may have been due to a lack of distance, she did not find it.

She no longer knew what was truth and what was a lie.

The last extra classes of the semester were open lectures she was attending with him – she knew they would be discussing Trans-Atlantyk and she thought maybe that was a sign.

She reasoned that if he didn't turn up it would mean that he had given up, that he had been disappointed with her and got bored and that she could move on at last.

She had arrived earlier than usual, wanting to borrow some books from the library for the holidays. Standing at one of the bookcases she spotted him from a distance sitting alone at a table, bent over a thick volume – even though it was still half an hour to class he was sitting in the same seat as always.

She felt the heat fill her body, her heart began to pound like crazy due to some incomprehensible joy at the sight of him.

She moved towards him with several tomes in her hands and sat down next to him – they did not greet each other, however, she felt his gaze on her, his warm breath on her skin.

She turned her face towards him and noticed that his healthy eye was all red, his lower lip trembling, as if he didn't believe she would come, that he would ever see her again.

Something in that sight, in the tear that ran down his cheek made her lay her head on his shoulder, snuggling her nose into his neck – she heard him draw in air greedily, his hand rose quickly and touched her cheek, his fingers twitching, stroking her soft skin with a gentle, tender motion.

She put her hands around his arm and stayed like that, feeling strangely calm and safe – she felt him place his cheek on the top of her head, she could hear his broken, heavy breath, his lips placing a tender kiss on her hair once in a while.

She turned her face towards him, heard only his quiet, low sigh as their fleshy lips found each other in a sticky, hot, wet kisses, his large hand holding her face in place, not allowing her to move away.

She pulled away from him at last, stroking his well-defined jaw with her thumb, his gaze dark and hot, his lips swollen and red from their caress.

She returned to her earlier position without a word, sinking her face into the hollow of his neck, embracing his arm with her hands – he breathed quietly, sliding it out of her grasp, enveloping her waist with it, pulling her close so that she could hug his chest.

The tips of his fingers traveled down her back as he took the book that lay in front of him from the table top and placed it on his thighs, clearly wanting to simultaneously read on and cover up whatever was going on in his trousers.

They stayed like this until the class began when they finally pulled away from each other – his hand quickly found hers under the table, stroking the top of it with his thumb.

Though doubts still filled her heart, for the first time in years she felt hope.

_____

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(bold means I couldn't tag you)

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[call-me-copycat]

Love Knows No Bounds

➤ Welcome - Introduction and Request Rules (Requests are open + Some info about me)

▶ Characters: Yandere Dadzawa & Daughter Reader [Platonic]

▶ Genre: Kind of fluffy + Yandere themes

▶ Summary: Aizawa's never really taken a liking to kids. But you keep finding him somehow, and he wonders why he's now constantly worrying about you. He decides you're the only exception he'll make.

▶ Word Count: 4547

▶ Warnings:

This is yandere, so there's bound to be a slightly unhealthy mindset

Aizawa's not a creep, I promise

Implications of deaths of citizens

Graphic description of those citizens fear before said deaths

Mention of slight stalking

I'm not too great at writing Yandere, so it's not too bad

You were impossible to ignore.

Aizawa's first meeting with you wasn't exactly conventional. You were paddle boating around the recently melted lake, which was still cold enough to have small chunks of ice still floating around. The surrounding park was busy with people, all enjoying the evening weather right before the sun went down.

Aizawa was just trying to take a walk, he wasn't even on the clock. But when disaster calls, he has to be the one to always answer.

Something must've caught the bottom of your boat, because before you knew it you were engulfed in icy water. Your limbs locked up, and all the breath in your lungs immediately went out.

He was the first one into the lake, pulling you out and onto the grass where it was safe. Before you could grasp your bearings, he was already gone. You only caught a glimpse of the man that had rescued you.

Aizawa, on the other hand, was slightly annoyed with you, seeing as he had to make his walk all the way home in soggy clothing with a chill digging into his bones.

But he didn't care. You were an empty face in a faceless crowd.

Until you appeared again.

The weather was still slightly chilly, but it didn't deter you as you set off for school. You walked down your normal path you'd take, only to see a large dog waiting for you at the end of the path. It was chained, but it was blocking the area - most likely waiting for its owner to come back. You didn't have time for that.

Ultimately, the best decision for you was to go around. To take a slight detour. You were never allowed to walk in strange areas, and you knew your parents would have a fit if you were found out.

Approaching the new area with caution, you sped your way through the neighborhood with ease as it wasn't too different from yours.

A glimpse was what caught you off guard.

Passing by an apartment complex, you initially didn't think much of it. You peeked into the parking lot, only to see the back head of a man getting into his car. He was placing something into the back seat, and you watched curiously as he shut the door and turned to get into the front.

Your eyes widened at the exact moment when you saw his face, remembering the blurry outline of the man that rescued you. Quickly, you calculated how much time you had left before school, eventually coming to a decision as you swiftly made your way over to him.

Your walk turned to a run as you watched him get into his car and turn his key. Your bag rapidly beat against your back as you heavily panted, ending up haphazardly behind his car just as he began to back up.

The car instantly halted with a screech, the back lights blaring as you stood frozen in place.

Aizawa heatedly opened the car door, scowling at the blatant disregard you had for your safety. Before you could react, he was already on you.

"Are you not watching where you're going? Do you not know what would've happened if I didn't react in time?" He snapped, not having much patience with random kids so early in the morning.

You stood there awkwardly as you fiddled with your school uniform, not realizing why you had wanted to reach out to him. Looking at the ground, you evaded his angry glare as you thought about what you had wanted to say to him.

Aizawa's expression softened as you avoided his eyes, realizing he was being a bit too harsh on you. He knew he needed to be stern, but he often got scolded by Mic And Midnight for being too harsh at times. Realizing his behavior, he steeled himself by taking a breath and kneeling down to your level.

"Look..." He started, placing a hand on your shoulder, "You just need to make sure you're aware of your surroundings, I don't want you getting hurt because of someone else's actions. "

Looking up at him with determination, you gripped the bottom of your shirt as you exclaimed, "You...! You're the one who helped me in the lake, right?"

His eyes widened for a second as he thought back to it, realizing that you were the kid he helped out at that moment. He never had someone remember him helping them out, often due to his hidden nature to keep his face out of public view. He would simply do his job and leave. If anything, it was to be expected to not get anything out of it.

Aizawa wasn't sure how you did it, but you somehow managed to find him and mustered up the confidence to thank him. He now saw you as who you were, a kid with a name and face instead of being one of the many blurs in the background.

Still at knee level, he rubbed the back of his neck, "I am," curious, he had to ask you, "Would you mind telling me how exactly you were able to find me here? "

You excitedly nodded your head with a smile as you recalled the issue with the dog and your regular path to school, and how even though your parents didn't like you taking new paths that you didn't have a choice, and to please not tell them or else you'd get in trouble -

Immediately, you remembered about school, and instantly realized that if you didn't hurry then you'd be late, Aizawa quickly catching on to your unease.

"I need to..." You started, beginning to walk away as you nervously pointed out towards the sidewalk from which you came.

"How long does it take you to get to school?" You only answered with a shrug, Aizawa sighing in response. He was caught in a rock and a hard place now.

On one hand, he could just leave you and drive to UA as normal, but deal with the guilt of being the cause of your tardiness. On the other hand, he could offer you a ride, but at the expense of getting in trouble and being seen as a creep. A young girl getting into a random man's car with no knowledge of who he was wasn't the brightest idea when it came to evading public attention. With his looks and mysterious reputation, he already got a few odd looks from passerbys as he spoke to you.

Who were you, and how were you already able to worm yourself into his life?

-

Helping a random kid get to school was definitely not on his itinerary for the day, yet here he was.

"Are you buckled?"

Nodding cheerfully, you hummed in acknowledgement, oblivious to the heavy dread that settled in Aizawa. He had given in as you looked up at him with worry in your eyes, but he brushed it off as a one time thing. He'd only give in this once.

You weren't very good at giving directions, he realized. After too many U-turns and 'wait a minute!'s, he was ready to get out a map instead.

Finally, you arrived at your school with a few minutes to spare. You happily hopped out of the car, turning around and waving at him with a large smile on your face as you walked inside. After you disappeared from his sight, Aizawa meekly gave a little wave. It felt nice, in a way, helping out someone new.

Although, on the other side he was extremely irritated at your lack of awareness as you were ready to hitch a ride with what was a random stranger. He might have slightly scolded you on stranger danger on your way to school, but you didn't mind too much.

He thought that was that, and that he wouldn't see you again. But you were always there, ready to budge your way into his day once more.

The sun was setting, with only a few strands of light clinging onto the ground as Aizawa took a small walk to the convenience store. The air was cool, and the path was near empty as people began leaving before dark. Perfect for a night dweller such as him.

It was only when he saw a familiar figure that he stopped in his tracks.

You were wheeling a bicycle alongside you, wearing casual street clothes now. Why, he wondered, were you out at this time? Yes, it wasn't that late since the sun barely went down, but it was dark. Much too dark for a kid such as you to be out by herself.

"Oh! It's you again!" You greeted him before he could even fully see you, just as happy as you were before.

"It's late. Why are you out here?" His voice was stern, but still carried an undertone of carrying.

You laughed, already having realized that this man wasn't as scary as he seemed on the outside. You had quickly grew comfortable around him, despite how annoyed he seemed every time he saw you.

"My bike broke, so I'm walking," looking around, you noticed the early time, "besides, it's not too late, I've been out later than this."

His eye twitched. You were so comfortable, smiling and ignorant of any danger or threats that were possible. How you survived this long was well beyond him.

"Still-" Heaving another breath, he swallowed any objections and changed the subject, "What's wrong with your bike? "

You looked down at it, gently nudging it to the side and back, "I think the chain popped, though I could be wrong..."

Aizawa knew nothing about bikes. He only rode a few times as a kid and sometimes as a teen when he didn't have a ride. Still, he lowered himself to inspect your bike. Upon further examination, he did discover the chain, broken.

That night he escorted you home, carrying your bike for you since you were hauling it beside you 'too slowly'.

-

Aizawa nudged open his front door with his foot, convenient store bags in hand. Putting them down on his kitchen table, he took a moment and silently looked at the ground, wondering just why he was constantly fretting over you.

Perhaps it was because of how ignorant you were? Maybe it was just something he picked up when training to be a hero? He had no clue. He wasn't even a kid person, his own students were already pushing his patience a little thinner each day.

Every time he saw you, he got to know a little more about you. Each meeting gave him a puzzle piece, and a picture of who you were was slowly forming with each occurrence.

He began seeing you more often, whether it was due to random chance or by choice, he didn't care.

Waking beside you as you got off school while you told him all the things you learned, running into him at the grocery store and trying to convince him to get your favorite pudding, showing up at his doorstep with a small basket of berries you picked from the town garden...

Sooner than he would've cared for, Aizawa noticed that he began to like having you by his side. Your company was like a breath of fresh air in his lungs, your happy mood constantly keeping him from getting too sour.

It was new, and it was... Pleasant.

-

"Aizawaaa-San!"

Your voice greeted him just like every other time he met you, and he cracked a small smile upon hearing it.

Your were a bit of a distance away, but he stopped in place to allow you to run up to him. You somehow found him once again, taking a walk along the harbor where the boats were docked. It seemed like a game at this point, one you always seemed to win.

"Guess what?!"

Ever so excited, you seemed to be practically buzzing with enthusiasm.

He cocked an eyebrow, putting his hands in his pockets as you strolled next to him, "What is it? Going somewhere, I suppose? "

Your laugh rang in his ears, a sound he couldn't get enough of. He was just happy that you were happy, after all.

"Yes! My parents and I are going to visit Tokyo!" You put your hands on your cheeks, gushing, "It's going to be so fun, the city always has the most to do!"

Ah, Tokyo. It was a nice city, but cities always seemed to bring trouble. As everyone knew, the more populated an area, the more villains littered the place. Suddenly, it seemed that the air of amusement deflated from him.

"Just... Be sure to be careful please. "

You took notice of his sudden mood change, confused as to why he wasn't happy about your trip.

"Of course I will! But..." You tilted your head a bit, "Are you okay? You don't seem very happy today"

Taking notice of your worry, Aizawa quickly put on a weak reassuring smile. Putting a hand on your head, he comforted you, "Don't worry about it, just promise to tell me all about your trip when you get back"

You looked up at him, eyes filled with confidence as you hummed in acknowledgement.

-

Why was he here? Has he actually lost his mind?

That's all that rolled through Aizawa's mind as he scrolled through train stations you'd be passing by. He just needed to be sure that the ride will be safe. He didn't need to go all the way to Tokyo, but just far enough so that he could reassure his frantic mind.

Yes, he understood how freaky he was being. But for some reason, you triggered some odd emotion deep in his brain that made it so he couldn't not worry about you. The world was rough and sharp, he's seen lots of villains that couldn't care less about tearing a small girl to shreds...

A shudder ran through his spine, and Aizawa quickly ejected the thought from his mind before he could go any more crazy.

-

The rain was uncomfortable, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. All Aizawa could do was circle around the nearby stations then let you truly go to explore further.

Without him.

It left an odd taste in his mouth.

The train passed by, rumbling the station and the people around it, and he watched as it rode further and further away . . . carrying you with it. Of course you'd come back, it was only a trip. But what would he do if you didn't? What if your parents decided to move to Tokyo? What if you got into an accident?

It was then that he realized how silent his life would be without you in it. You were the colors dotting his gray life.

Taking a deep breath, he decided to drive around to calm himself, his nerves making him more jumpy than he'd like.

The drive was unfortunately cut short.

He knew it. Aizawa knew something was bound to happen.

Of course a villain shows up. He had seen the call earlier that day, but at that time they were much farther away. He realized that whoever the heroes were chasing must've been fast.

He was also quite large.

A massive villain, made of rock was being propelled by what seemed like self-made wings was near-cornered by a good amount of heroes going after him. And when a villain gets trapped they tend to do one of two things: they either (1) Lose any sense of logic in their mind and make stupid last-minute decisions, or (2) Get extremely violent as they know their time is up and that they have nothing to lose.

This villain seemed to be leaning towards the first point, as his flying began to get more and more erratic, frantically trying to find a way out through the numerous towering buildings with a multitude of heroes on his tail.

It was an unfortunate timing of events.

It felt as though time froze for a split second. Aizawa had never felt as powerless as he did in that moment. He could only watch in horror as the villain slammed into the train tracks with a deafening thud, knocking away a good portion of the tracks that sat high above the ocean.

(Like a combination of these two ^⁠_⁠^)

Huge chunks of rubble slowly collapsed down and into the dark waters that rushed at the bottom of the tracks, down to the point where they couldn't be seen anymore. The metal pieces of the tracks sat sticking out of the remaining ends, bent and distorted.

Whipping his head where your train was coming, Aizawa felt as though his heart was about to overflow and explode to pieces right in his chest. He felt hollow, and everything began to swirl as he watched the train skid in an attempt to stop.

Unfortunately the train was too heavy to stop all at once, causing it to skid over the tracks with a shrieking screech as metal collided with metal.

Sparks flew from the wheels as the train bolted in the direction of the collapsed tracks, threatening to hurl itself over and into the roaring waters below. Surrounding citizens were ushered out of the area for their safety, but those remaining sat and watched tensely, often screaming out in worry and horror at the sight before them.

Aizawa immediately halted his car and tore out into your direction while leaving it where it sat, uncaring for anything that blocked his way from getting to you. He held his scarf that once sat in his passenger seat haphazardly in his arms, struggling to get the heavy metal properly around his neck while he ran.

Pure adrenaline coursed through his veins as he sprinted with all his might towards the skidding train, his eyes never leaving the sight. He knew that he wouldn't be able to make it up there on time, and he surely knew he couldn't stop a train, but he'd be damned if he sat there watching without attempting anything.

A slight burst of hope sparked within him as several strength-bound heroes rushed to the scene and teamed up to heave the train in the opposite direction to slow it's movement. It was a bit of a struggle, but the stalling of what would've been a complete massacre of a train full of civilians meant everything in that moment.

A hero in front was attempting to push his feet in front of the machine while it skidded against him, and several in the back were using an assortment of quirks in an attempt to pull it backwards.

Slowly, the train began to slow just as Aizawa made his way up to it, the train still ticking its way uncomfortably close to the edge. He hopped into the train from the roof just as the front of the train slowly ran over the edge, dangling itself over the dark waters while the back cabins sat on the crumbling tracks.

All the passengers were in a panic, and it was incredibly difficult for Aizawa to manage his way through the terrified screaming and faces full of tears, but he was determined to face the chaos in order to find you.

He knew he was breaking Heroes Code. Once you were a hero, you were expected to do your best to save every person you could, with no bias towards one and risk the lives of many others. But he just couldn't think of such a thing at that time.

His mind was in a frenzy as the passengers all started hollering and rushing towards the back of the train, and in that moment, Aizawa realized why.

The front cabin of the train was threatening to rip off from the back end, the cables slowly snapping as more and more people rushed through it.

Eventually, a horrible, dreadful silence filled the cabin as the passengers still inside the front all froze in place, terrified to make a single move.

Aizawa stood at the front of the cabin that sat on the tracks, peering down inside the cabin that dangled - straight at the petrified faces of the passengers as they looked to him for rescue.

He had to think. If he just walked in, the entire thing would collapse. But he didn't see you in any of the cabins when he started at the back, and he took a second to glance over the terrified faces, each nothing but a blur to him.

Faceless, nameless citizens.

It was then that he instantly locked eyes with you, huddled at the way front end of the train. You were gripping the top bar of the train with such force that your knuckles were white, and he could see the true look of horror on your face as you had the closest view of the water waiting to swallow you down below.

He could only assume the two adults next to you were your parents, but he wasn't focused on them. Your eyes were screaming for him. It was extremely unsettling for him, to see your usually innocent and joyful face filled with such fear.

He only had one thing on his mind. The only thing he's every thought of whenever it came to you.

To keep you safe. To protect your smile.

At this point a couple other heroes had boarded the train alongside him and began to rush the the front end of the train, intent on getting everyone out alive.

Unaware of Aizawa's selfishness.

Slowly, the cables snapped as the cabin began to lower without stopping, causing the passengers to go into another round of distress as they all could only await the inevitable.

"Eraserhead!"

Quickly, Aizawa gave a small glance behind his shoulder to the random hero calling his name, keeping you in his peripheral vision. He was a young man with thick ropes of metal unwinding from his body, keeping the secondary cabin that still sat on the tracks from falling with the front. The metal coils winded around and through the train as it gripped the machine, keeping the man stationary.

"Please! Just save who you can!"

Another hero from behind the young man added on, "There are other pros waiting below the train to catch as many passengers as they can! They can't assure they'll be able to save everyone, so please! Move whoever you can grab, and do it NOW!"

He sprung into action before the hero could even finish her sentence, darting straight in your direction. For a brief second, his eyes caught a glimpse of who your parents were, and he realized that if he put in some extra effort that he could've taken them with him.

A dark, heavy feeling filled his mind for a second, and he seemed to lose control of his normally logical mind.

Envy. Jealousy. Rage.

They too, were faceless, nameless citizens.

Unimportant.

He was rash, wrapping and hauling you up and through the cabin with his scarf, immediately pulling you into his arms as he carried you to the safer cabin. Once his scarf was free he hastily tugged a few nearby passengers into the cabin with him, an alibi, before the cabin snapped entirely and began collapsing down below.

The passengers erupted into a cacophony of shrieks and crying as they uselessly tried to make their way to the other cabin before theirs fell entirely. Aizawa caught a glimpse of your parents faces again, but he only watched as they fell with no remorse on his face.

He felt hollow, but at the same time he felt fulfilled with you in his grasp.

Looking over, he saw a couple heroes mid-flight, ready to do what they could for the falling passengers. Aizawa could only look on grimly as he understood they wouldn't be able to handle all the people left behind.

You were clinging to him as the front end of the train collapsed, and as you turned your head Aizawa covered your face with his jacket to keep you from witnessing something that a kid your age shouldn't ever have to see in their lifetime.

-

The tragedy was all over the news. Numerous heroes littered the scene as they assisted all those that they saved to the medical professionals. News reporters were constantly attempting to get a word from one of those heroes, or an image of what was left behind. A few selfish ones, hungry for a best seller, tried to get a few words in with the victims.

The train was now empty, the front cabin sitting in the waters below and the rest of the train barely lasting against the remains of the crumbling tracks.

Ambulances were wheeling out more people than they had room for, and construction heroes were already on the scene as they got ready to remove the train from the hazardous tracks.

And yet, throughout all the chaos, all Aizawa could look as was you.

You, clinging onto him for dear life. You, who almost lost that life. You, who once again was saved by him just as he did that one time in the lake.

He refused to part with you, accompanying you all the way to the closest hospital they could get you to that wasn't overcrowded. He still stayed by your side, all throughout the night as you couldn't sleep.

He was by your side as the doctors gave you one last checkup before letting you know you were ready to leave.

And he was the shoulder you cried on when you found out the news about your parents. They were just faces in the crowd, yet he was still there to assist you.

He was a hollow, empty man towards the unknown. Those without faces didn't gain any sympathy from him, they littered the background plenty.

He was there when you felt completely, awfully lost and scared. And he was the one to offer you a home. He gave you a home, safety, and unconditional love and comfort. He was simply, conveniently there, and you didn't question it.

He was there for every fear, every nightmare, and every time your felt alone.

Later on, he was the one who accompanied you to school, this time as the one to sign you up and drive you home without worry. He drove you everywhere freely, no matter where you wanted to go. No worries attached.

You reached out to him as your pillar, and for once, things flipped around as he was your beacon of light now.

Soon enough, your smile returned, and with it that laugh he so enjoyed hearing from you. You were safe, and you were happy. That was all he needed.

Now that you were his, he wouldn't risk a single thing that he thought would put you in danger.

Your laugh was purely for him to hear.

Your smile was only his to see.

Your safety was only his concern.

Constantly by your side, you both rarely parted. He wouldn't allow you to anymore, seeing what happened the last time he attempted to let you go off without him.

You couldn't have been more grateful for all he gave you. He saved you from a lonely life ahead, and he kept you safe. He was always telling you that, anyways.

But you didn't mind. Aizawa was Aizawa, and you couldn't ask for anything else. For all you knew, he was the man who always conveniently showed up to save you, the one to always lend a hand whenever you needed it.

But to you, he wasn't Aizawa anymore.

He was Dad.

And he wouldn't ever let it go any other way.

Notes:

I hope this was good for a first attempt at writing Yandere! If this wasn't to your liking, send me a message through asks and I'll write another how you'd like! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

I really liked the plot I made for this one - ̗̀ ( ˶'ᵕ'˶) ̖́-

I'm working on the other requests I've gotten, I've been getting plenty! I really appreciate every one who sent one in, I look forward to fulfilling what I can ୧꒰*´꒳`*꒱૭✧

I hope you all have a lovely day!

@jessiedead Hope you like it (⁠^⁠^⁠)

[mostlysignssomeportents]

CDA 230 bans Facebook from blocking interoperable tools

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT (May 2) in WINNIPEG, then TOMORROW (May 3) in CALGARY, then SATURDAY (May 4) in VANCOUVER, then onto Tartu, Estonia, and beyond!

Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act is the most widely misunderstood technology law in the world, which is wild, given that it's only 26 words long!

https://www.techdirt.com/2020/06/23/hello-youve-been-referred-here-because-youre-wrong-about-section-230-communications-decency-act/

CDA 230 isn't a gift to big tech. It's literally the only reason that tech companies don't censor on anything we write that might offend some litigious creep. Without CDA 230, there'd be no #MeToo. Hell, without CDA 230, just hosting a private message board where two friends get into serious beef could expose to you an avalanche of legal liability.

CDA 230 is the only part of a much broader, wildly unconstitutional law that survived a 1996 Supreme Court challenge. We don't spend a lot of time talking about all those other parts of the CDA, but there's actually some really cool stuff left in the bill that no one's really paid attention to:

https://www.aclu.org/legal-document/supreme-court-decision-striking-down-cda

One of those little-regarded sections of CDA 230 is part (c)(2)(b), which broadly immunizes anyone who makes a tool that helps internet users block content they don't want to see.

Enter the Knight First Amendment Institute at Columbia University and their client, Ethan Zuckerman, an internet pioneer turned academic at U Mass Amherst. Knight has filed a lawsuit on Zuckerman's behalf, seeking assurance that Zuckerman (and others) can use browser automation tools to block, unfollow, and otherwise modify the feeds Facebook delivers to its users:

https://knightcolumbia.org/documents/gu63ujqj8o

If Zuckerman is successful, he will set a precedent that allows toolsmiths to provide internet users with a wide variety of automation tools that customize the information they see online. That's something that Facebook bitterly opposes.

Facebook has a long history of attacking startups and individual developers who release tools that let users customize their feed. They shut down Friendly Browser, a third-party Facebook client that blocked trackers and customized your feed:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/11/once-again-facebook-using-privacy-sword-kill-independent-innovation

Then in in 2021, Facebook's lawyers terrorized a software developer named Louis Barclay in retaliation for a tool called "Unfollow Everything," that autopiloted your browser to click through all the laborious steps needed to unfollow all the accounts you were subscribed to, and permanently banned Unfollow Everywhere's developer, Louis Barclay:

https://slate.com/technology/2021/10/facebook-unfollow-everything-cease-desist.html

Now, Zuckerman is developing "Unfollow Everything 2.0," an even richer version of Barclay's tool.

This rich record of legal bullying gives Zuckerman and his lawyers at Knight something important: "standing" – the right to bring a case. They argue that a browser automation tool that helps you control your feeds is covered by CDA(c)(2)(b), and that Facebook can't legally threaten the developer of such a tool with liability for violating the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act, the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, or the other legal weapons it wields against this kind of "adversarial interoperability."

Writing for Wired, Knight First Amendment Institute at Columbia University speaks to a variety of experts – including my EFF colleague Sophia Cope – who broadly endorse the very clever legal tactic Zuckerman and Knight are bringing to the court.

I'm very excited about this myself. "Adversarial interop" – modding a product or service without permission from its maker – is hugely important to disenshittifying the internet and forestalling future attempts to reenshittify it. From third-party ink cartridges to compatible replacement parts for mobile devices to alternative clients and firmware to ad- and tracker-blockers, adversarial interop is how internet users defend themselves against unilateral changes to services and products they rely on:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

Now, all that said, a court victory here won't necessarily mean that Facebook can't block interoperability tools. Facebook still has the unilateral right to terminate its users' accounts. They could kick off Zuckerman. They could kick off his lawyers from the Knight Institute. They could permanently ban any user who uses Unfollow Everything 2.0.

Obviously, that kind of nuclear option could prove very unpopular for a company that is the very definition of "too big to care." But Unfollow Everything 2.0 and the lawsuit don't exist in a vacuum. The fight against Big Tech has a lot of tactical diversity: EU regulations, antitrust investigations, state laws, tinkerers and toolsmiths like Zuckerman, and impact litigation lawyers coming up with cool legal theories.

Together, they represent a multi-front war on the very idea that four billion people should have their digital lives controlled by an unaccountable billionaire man-child whose major technological achievement was making a website where he and his creepy friends could nonconsensually rate the fuckability of their fellow Harvard undergrads.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/02/kaiju-v-kaiju/#cda-230-c-2-b

Image: D-Kuru (modified): https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:MSI_Bravo_17_(0017FK-007)-USB-C_port_large_PNr%C2%B00761.jpg

Minette Lontsie (modified): https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Facebook_Headquarters.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

[happiest-hotch]

Dinner for Three

Summary: Going to the BAU with the intention of dragging your boyfriend away from working all night proves to be a good decision when you meet a team member of his who needs some cheering up based on the ending scene of 11x09 with an Aaron Hotchner x reader component

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader (fluff)

Word Count: 1.7k

Content Warning: a very slight sexual reference

You're slightly disappointed when you get Aaron's call.

He'd left the BAU early that night to pick you up for your 8 pm dinner date. It hadn't worked, and he texted you something cryptic about a new case involving a longer-running case that concerned the team's technical analyst.

As always, he was incredibly apologetic, calling you as soon as he had a chance, but you don't mind. You know how important his job is and the sacrifices he has to make. Plus, the other times this has happened, he more than made it up to you, proving to be the sweet boyfriend you know he is.

He texts you the next night to let you know they're still working, but he's okay and in Virginia. It's so late that you don't get a chance to text him back until the morning, and you're just hoping he got some sleep during the night, but it doesn't seem likely.

On the second night, he's more upbeat, delivering the good news about his case closing. Oddly, you don't get another message that he's on his way into DC.

With your own profiling effort, you deduce he went to the BAU and got stuck into his paperwork, no doubt putting eating and sleeping at the bottom of his priority list. As a diligent girlfriend, you're walking out the door of your apartment to force him to leave to get something to eat before you can overthink about having never been to his office or the possibility he might not want to see you.

After making it through security and proving who you're there to see, you take the elevator to the sixth floor. It's dead silent, probably because it's close to 10 at night.

Aside from the fluorescent overhead lights in the bullpen and the corridor, the only other light on is an office on the left after you step off the elevator.

It has to be Aaron's since he's most likely the only one here, you reason as you walk toward the door. Gently you tap on the doorframe, but the woman inside definitely isn't your boyfriend.

There are personal belongings in the office, clothing, and boxes scattered on the sofa and table, and two suitcases on the floor, like someone's been living out of the office, and judging by the jacket's pattern, it could be the woman in the room.

She jumps when she sees you, and you quickly apologize. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

She shakes her head. "No. No, it's okay."

Then you realize it's weird that you're just standing there without an explanation, a total stranger. "I'm looking for Aaron Hotchner."

Nervousness flashes across her features. "Agent Hotchner is due back soon. Sorry, who are you?"

It's a question you expected, knowing you might bump into other agents, despite hoping you wouldn't. Aaron has told you about how he keeps his personal life, and therefore you, further away from his professional life than he used to, and you're not sure he'd want his team to know who you are.

You also should have anticipated the suspicion in her voice since people out there want to hurt them and could find their way into the offices to do so.

"His...friend." You settle on. It doesn't even sound right to say anymore. "Although, if he said that about me, he'd be in trouble." You joke mostly to yourself.

She looks more excited now, grinning like a little kid who's found a secret block of chocolate. "I'm Penelope Garcia, the BAU's technical analyst."

"Oh, of course. Aaron talks a lot about you." You tell her, putting a face to the stories as you shake her hand. "I'm Y/n L/n."

"The reason he smiles every time he checks his phone nowadays?" She asks, now eager.

Heat rises to your cheeks. You've seen the smile Penelope's talking about when you catch Aaron looking at you before he bashfully looks away. It's adorable and heartwarming to think about him doing it around his colleagues and probably trying to hide it.

"Sometimes." You downplay it. "It could be him getting a picture of Jack."

She shakes her head. "No, he shows us those. Texts ding on his phone, and he tries to hide his smile, and that's how we know it's not BAU-related. Theories about what they are and who they're from is the hottest gossip around here."

"It better be me then." You say, although you have no doubts that it is. "Otherwise, he's got some explaining to do."

Penelope laughs lightly. "Don't worry. He's about as loyal as they come."

You had come to that conclusion by yourself, but it's good to have it verified by someone who has known him for over a decade.

She catches your eyes wandering around the room and explains it. "I don't know how much you know, but I'm on lockdown here until further notice."

"Aaron mentioned it vaguely." You tell her. "I'm sorry. It must suck." It's not the most aesthetically pleasing home with bleak concert walls, generic lamps, and no closet. She's provided you with information about Aaron's whereabouts and character, so it's your turn to try and help her. "This couch wouldn't look as bad with some sheets, and I'm sure you've got some decorations. I can help. Only if you'd like, no pressure."

Instantly, she sees the optimistic side of you that Aaron admires and loves. "Yeah." Penelope agrees slowly. "Thank you."

She hasn't wanted to take anything out of her bags because it means this nightmare would be real, but you're offering to help, and she realizes she could do with a friend. If she happened to stumble across information about her boss during the process, then so be it. 

You help her brighten up the room, complimenting her comfort decorations.

"So, what's it like to be in a relationship with Aaron Hotchner?" She asks you as she fluffs the throw pillows on the couch, and you hang fairy lights.

After ten minutes of non-Aaron-related talk, you know she's been refraining from asking questions about your relationship. 

"Amazing." You answer effortlessly. "He's..." You trail off from your sentence when someone clears their throat, and you turn around to see your handsome but tired-looking boyfriend standing in the doorway. "Hey."

His expression softens seeing you there, but his features show confusion. "Hey." He returns while acknowledging Penelope with a nod as he steps further into the room. The hand not holding his briefcase comes to rest on your lower back, and you lean into his warmth. "What are you doing here?"

You weren't expecting him to show you physical affection in front of people he knows, but it's a welcomed surprise. "I thought I'd come and convince you not to sit at your desk doing paperwork all night."

He avoids being very unprofessional and asking exactly how you planned to distract him since you're under the careful observation of Penelope, who's memorizing your interaction to repeat to the team tomorrow. 

"There are still a few things we need to go over, Garcia," Aaron says to her. About the case they just closed, you figure, but it can't be overwhelmingly good news because he wouldn't stretch out telling her that she's safe. "Are you going to be okay?"

You admire her bravery as she nods with tears filling her vision. "I'm gonna make myself a vegetarian omelet for dinner." She says before pausing. "Do you both want to stay?" She quickly backtracks. "Forget that. You've probably got places to be, sorry."

Aaron looks to you for your judgment, and although he's letting you decide since this would typically be time you two spend together, there's an answer he would prefer. 

"No, we've got nothing planned, and I'm starving." You confirm. Penelope's face lights up, the sadness she's holding onto about her new living quarters feeling less heavy. "Do you have jalapenos?" 

"Do I have jalapenos?" She repeats, suggesting an obvious answer. She moved to grab the ingredients. "I should let you know that I have had a love affair with all things hot and spicy since I was, like, 12."

You smile at her delight as Aaron takes the chopping board she handed him with a bowl full of jalapenos. "Maybe the more important question is will you judge me for putting them on my food even if they make me cry a little?" You ask, nudging Aaron, who knows the incident you're referencing.

She looks at him in horror before turning back to you. "Is there any other way to eat them?" She asks.

"Someone." You nod to Aaron, who's getting to work on his task. "Eats spicy food without even tearing up."

He snorts out a laugh. "You weren't crying 'a little.'" He reminds you, defending himself playfully. "It was full-on crying with mascara tracks down your cheeks. You should have seen her, Penelope." He continues. "Seriously, I thought we were about to get kicked out of that restaurant. The waitress was so concerned." He laughs at the memory. He concluded that night that your crying with pleasure tendency is much better when it's only the two of you.

You lightly hit him on the shoulder to scold him before letting your hand linger to test the boundaries. He relaxes under your touch, muscles relaxing a little.

"It's a natural reaction." You jokingly argue back. "I'm on a spicy food ban at restaurants now." You inform Penelope.

"Oh, you've got to come to the next pasta night at Rossi's." She tells you. "It's the best food you can get, no jalapenos involved."

You look to Aaron for permission, not wanting to agree to something if he doesn't want you around his friends. He smiles lightly at you, now knowing introducing you and merging two parts of his life isn't as risky as he thought it might be.

"I'd love that." You agree. "Ready for that, Aaron?"

"Please agree." Penelope jumps in. "They'll love her. Don't worry." She assures you. "I'll make sure the team knows how perfect you are for him." 

Aaron chuckles beside you. "I don't doubt that." 

There's a double meaning that you and Aaron catch. Most obviously, Aaron knows the team will find out about your dinner together and probably learn every detail about you that they can before you officially meet, and additionally, he doesn't have any doubts that you're perfect for him.

[anjelicawrites]

Bringer of gifts

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Synopsis: expanding this head canon. Luke survives Storm’s End and gets captured later in the Dance, only to lose his eye to Aemond’s psychotic wife, who wants to give it to him as a gift.

Warnings: DDDNE, torture, eye enucleation, Rhaenyra’s sons are called ‘bastards’, Rhaenyra is called ‘a whore’, reader and Aemond are two psychos in love, talk of torture, talk of beheading, talk of murder, gore, kissing, p in v sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, blood licking, talk of cannibalism, talk of public sex, talk of pregnancy.

A/N: reader is AFAB but not described but for their long hair. A/N 1: since this fic is much darker than what I usually write, I'm not going to use my taglist. A/N 2: @schniiipsel you asked and I delivered, just right before Halloween!!!

You can feel the eyes of the guards burn holes as you enter the dungeons. You can imagine their thoughts and their panic because you shouldn’t be here and they can’t stop you.

“Your Highness.”

The burly man in front of you bows curtly, yet he is in your way.

“Where is he?”

You want to end your errand as quickly as possible, your stomach is already revolting against the stench of fear and pain permeating the air; you wouldn’t do this if you didn’t love your husband they way you do.

Torture is explicitly discussed and described in this fic, so is gore. Read at your own risks. Be responsible for the fiction you consume!

NSFW and 18+ only please.

You don’t expect those men to understand what is the cause behind your actions. To tell the truth, you don’t even care, you have given an order and expect it to be carried out.

“Your Highness, are you…”

You don’t even let the man finish the phrase, you stare at him with an ice cold stare that makes him stammer on his words.

“Show me the way.”

The men in front of you seem lost: should they follow your royal command? Should they politely accompany you back to your chambers?

Their commander makes the decision for them. Still looking at you with a quizzical stare he makes way and orders his men to flank you as your little group makes way through the maze that’s the dungeons of King’s Landing, your Kingsguard following suit.

You can hear the shouts of the men imprisoned, their hands emerge from between the iron bars of their prisons like a bad dream, their unwashed bodies amass themselves against them in the failed attempt to grab at you.

You don’t look at them. With your head high you march to the far end of the dungeons, where a seemingly vacant cell stands.

The guards, and the members of the Kingsguard appointed to protect you, stop and form a circle around you, effectively blocking the one, lonely prisoner, from seeing your form in the darkened corridor.

The head of the guards grabs the ring where all the keys live, the heavy metal jingle annoyingly as he selects the right one.

“He is chained to the wall, as per your request.” He tells you.

“Good. Now open the door, I will enter alone.”

“Your Highness I can’t let you do that! It’s far too dangerous!”

The man squirms under your stare.

“He poses me no threat. Do as you’re told or you will lose your head come the next dawn.”

He scrambles on his feet to obey you.

Despite the lovely way you look, and the colorful, flowery dresses you wear, it’s common knowledge in the Red Keep, that no one you should cross you or, the Gods forbid, your husband, because you will come for anyone who ever dared defying him, or yourself. You will let slide the way this man acted, because you understand this has never happened in his entire life, and he doesn’t know how to act to make you, and your husband, happy.

As the door opens on the rusty hinges, you adjust the hood hiding your face: you don’t want this very prisoner to see you immediately.

With a decisive stride you enter the cell and wait until the door closes behind you to raise your head and look at the prisoner chained to the wall.

You let the seconds fly as you look at his unkempt and disheveled state, the ruined clothes and bloody knuckles of someone who has fought hard to maintain his freedom. To have captured him was a stroke of luck from the Gods, their blessing after the death of poor Jahaerys.

The thick hood masks the smile gracing your lips when he tries to leap at you and his body falls violently against the wall, trapped by the too short chains; you have to give it to him, he’s a fighter. Not that it will help him, but it’s amusing to observe his struggle.

“Hello little bastard. Long time no see.”

Your words nail him on the spot where he’s standing: that is still an open wound, one that will accompany him for all of his life, however short it will be.

“You!”

Your smile widens when Luke’s eyes focus on your face.

He had only see you briefly during Viserys’s last dinner, when he had the gall to disrespect your husband once again, after having taken his eye all those years ago.

“Me, little bastard. I didn’t expect to meet you again. I thought your whore mother would keep her little bastard ducklings close to her chest. I suppose her desire for a throne that doesn’t belong to her is stronger than her feelings.”

“Don’t call her that!” He screams and tries to leap again with a scream of frustration when he realizes you’re too far away from him.

“I shall call her however I want. And I never lie, unlike her. Has she ever told you and your siblings who your father was? Or is she still lying to you all?”

You step closer to him, your smile darkening when you notice how his muscles strain against the sturdy chains blocking him.

“Do you know why you’re here, little bastard?”

“Don’t call me that!”

“Or what? Will you take my eye the same way you did my husband? Do you know that you’re here because of her, don’t you? If she hadn’t cared about hiding who you and your siblings are, if she had issued an apology to he own brother, you wouldn’t be here. None of it would have given Aemond back his eye, but it would have been something. Instead, she cared more about committing treason, and sending her little bastards to the slaughter, than anything else.”

You can see the fat tears of frustration fall from his eyes, the marks they leave on his dirty cheeks.

“She loves us! She didn’t send us to the slaughter!”

“If you say so. Then why are you here?”

He struggles against his bindings again. You can see how desperate he is to make you eat your words, a part of you respecting how loyal he is to his mother; if only he hadn’t laughed at your husband when the pig had been served, if only he had said he was sorry. Instead he had smirked at Aemond, positive the consequences of his actions would never catch up with him; truly, he marked his destiny that night, and he didn’t even know.

“Do you know why you’re here? Why you’re not be kept in the Red Keep like the royalty you pretend to be?”

You see the answer die on his lips when you unsheathe the small dagger you hide in the arm of your dress, the one Aemond gifted you for your nameday, right after your marriage.

“Because you ran from consequences all your life, Luke, and now there’s nowhere to go anymore.”

The desperate sound of his struggles is covered by the heavy footsteps of the Kingsguard entering the cell. Your Aemond has personally chosen those men, picking the ones who will do your bidding without a second thought, who will kill, and die, for you.

Differently from the guards, they didn’t bat an eye when you told them to follow you to the dungeons and instructed them to keep the prisoner still as soon as you unsheathed your dagger.

There must be some blood of the dragon flowing through the little bastard’s veins, because four grown men are struggling with keeping him on his keens, on the filthy floor, and the fifth has almost lost a finger to his teeth when he had grabbed his chin, to make sure his head stood tall and easy to reach for you.

You have to give him that: the child is a fighter, it was sheer misfortune that his dragon had been hit, and that he had lost consciousness as soon as they both touched the ground; he would have made such a great Driftmark Lord, if only his mother had stayed in her place.

“What are you going to do?”

You can see his fear when you kneel in front of him and grab his hair.

Aemond told you it had been a matter of moments: one second he was standing over his nephews, the one after, he was on the ground, the pain on his left side blinding to the point he had feared he had lost both eyes.

What took long had been the Maesters in their desperate attempt to save his eye, only to have to scoop it out and crudely sew the cut and eyelid shut.

What hurt the most, he told you, was seeing how his own father, his own flesh and blood, didn’t punish Luke for his actions instead he had protected him and berated Aegon for a word he never said out loud.

It falls upon you, really, to try and balance the injustice the late king caused; the old man is dead and rotten, yet the fruits of his injustice are damaging you all and someone has to put a stop to it.

“Know that, even though it brings me immense joy, your mother and your grandsire could have prevented all of this. And your stepfather shouldn’t have come for Jahaerys, or any of us for the matter.”

Luke tries to squirm away from the hold of your Kingsguard. Desperately he fights the vice of your hand in his thick locks when the bite of your dagger strikes the soft skin of his cheeks.

His screams of pain are deafening in the little cell when the sharp blade starts cutting, blood spills all over your hand and explodes on your face and clothes when you arrive to the eyeball, carving it out carefully, making sure it will not burst, thus ruining your gift for your husband.

By the time you’re done with him, he’s barely alert on the dirty floor, the rich, red blood still flowing from his wounds, wetting his face.

“Call the Maesters.” You bark. “They need to make sure the bastard survives to savor the pain my husband had to live with throughout his life!”

One of the men of your Kingsguard offers you the silver plate you ordered him to carry and you gently lay the bloody eyeball on it, making sure it sits nicely on the shiny metal.

“You better hope your mother stops her folly, little bastard, or worse will come to you and your siblings.”

With that you hide yourself under your cloak again, making sure no one is capable of seeing your gift for Aemond: you don’t want his surprise to be spoiled!

You walk the hidden corridors with your protectors; after the brutal slaying of Jahaerys the number of guards had been doubled and with the King fighting for his life after the battle of Rook’s Rest, the whole Red Keep is on high alert, thus making your desire to not been seen by anyone difficult, but not impossible.

You stand in front of the chambers you share with Aemond, your men in a circle around you, so that no one can see you as you silently open the big, wooden door.

Aemond is sitting at the huge desk, the fire roaring in the heart and the candles illuminate the parchments he’s reading intently.

He’s prince regent now and feels the weight of the title after not being able to keep Aegon safe from Meleys’s flames; as much as their relationship has always been complicated, you know that his loyalty to his family overrides any of Aegon’s slights.

He raises his head as soon as the door starts opening; you can see how tired he is, the lines of worry etched on his young face; he should be sleeping, or simply relaxing as the burning logs creak and break, he can’t, not when he knows he now shoulders the responsibility to keep you all safe.

“Ābrazȳrys. Wife.” He smiles, lifting his free hand to invite you to sit by him. “How was your day?”

You walk slowly, careful not to reveal your gift too soon; only when you’re standing next to him, you speak.

“Productive, albeit messy.”

Before he can inquire any further, you let the cloak fall to the floor, revealing your bloodstained dress and face. For a brief second the purest expression of worry marks his handsome face, the fear of you being attacked blinds him to your gift. Swiftly he’s on his feet, his hands going to your face, as if to check the damage.

“None of it is mine, my love. I wanted to bring you a token of my love and I had to get my hands dirty.”

Only now he focuses on the ornate silver plate you’re still holding in your hands, and the eyeball sitting there, caked in blood with the nerves still attached like a grotesque veil.

“Is it?”

“Yes, it is.”

Aemond’s hands are trembling as he takes the plate from you and sits it on the table, on top of the parchments.

He stands still in front of you, his face an unreadable mask that breaks as soon as he grabs your flowery dress to pull you against him and kiss you, hungry and savage, all teeth and tongue as he backs you towards your shared bed, drunk on the dries taste of blood mixed with yours.

You stumble on the large gown as you blindly let him move you, your hands grabbing at him, your fingers on the small clasps and knots binding his clothes together as he tears through your bloody dress, until you’re both naked, falling on the bed, still kissing passionately.

You surface for air, your mane of hair loose on your shoulders, Aemond under you, naked and hard, the thick cords of his muscles marked by the welts sword training left on him today, his breathe coming out in harsh puffs as he stares at you as if you’re the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen in his entire life.

You put your hands on the strong planes of his chest to find your balance, before you, slowly, start rubbing you wet core against his erection, moaning at the thickness against your swollen pearl.

“I wish you were there with me, my husband.” You pant. “I was so ready for you, his cries of pain were the best music, the fear on his face made me throb. You would have taken me in the cell, wouldn’t you? Amidst the prisoners and in front of the little bastard, showing him what he will never have.”

“Kessa! Kessa! Yes! Yes!” His hands find the meat of your hips to move you faster on his throbbing cock, your wetness against it driving him insane with lust. “Emagon nyke sir! Have me now!”

He groans under you when you keep rubbing yourself, your hands pinning him on the plush mattress, your breasts swinging in front of his face, so teasingly close to his starving mouth.

“What would have you done afterwards? When all those men knew how I sing for you.”

“Nyke would emagon taken pōja laesi hen zirȳ! gūrogon pōja ears! nyetodha pōja irosh! mērī kostan raqagon ao! I would have taken their eyes from them! Take their ears! Slit their throat! Only I can enjoy you!” He roars, deafening like a dragon.

“What about the guards? My protectors?”

“Mirre morghe. Ao sagon ñuhon! All dead. You're mine!”

The purple of his eye has turned into a bottomless pit of madness mirroring yours, the bite of his hands leaving proofs of his love for you as your nails do on his fair skin.

“I love you, Aemond.”

Your moans of pleasure reverberate against the walls, as you sink on his erection, his girth still taking the breathe away from you as his hips push inside your wet walls, until he has bottomed out, your cunt having enveloped him fully.

“You’re made for me, Aemond and I am made for you. You’re filling me perfectly.” You moan, egging him on. “I’m so full.”

With a whine you sit on him, admiring the strong planes of his body and the way his thick muscles strain against the need to push upwards and fuck you.

Slowly you start moving, gentle figures of eight that rub your pear against the coarse hair at the base of his cock, the motion makes you moan with every shockwave of pleasure; his hands on your hips help you move, guiding you to take whatever you want from him.

When you start to carefully move up and down, your hands fly to your full breasts to play with your nipples, pinching the engorged nubs the way he likes, your cunt leaving and swallowing more and more of him, until you’re riding him at a mad pace.

“I’ve never been wetter.” You moan. “I want to cut him piece by piece as you fuck me Aemond.”

Under you he babbles praises and promises, waxing poetic on the way your cunt is strangling his cock and is pulling him in; you’re drenched and hot, your combined moans deafening the squelching sounds of your combines honeys forming a ring around his base.

“There! Aemond, there!”

You scream, when his cock head finds your hidden spot, the one that makes your knees tremble and your rhythm falter, your cunt tightening around him to the point of pain, when his thumb finds your pearl to play with it fast, throwing you into the throes of your orgasm.

He follows with a howl, his stones drawn so tightly against his body as you milk him, hungry for his seed that seeps down his length as you keep riding him, until you fall sideways, spent.

You’re both spent as you two try to regain your breath, trembling in each other’s arms.

“I haven’t thanked you properly.” He says with a smile.

“I think you did.” You let a heartbeat pass between your two. “Did you truly like my gift?”

His hand is proprietary on your hip when he pulls you impossibly closer to his sweaty body.

“You did what no one ever would. I will cherish your offering for as long as I live.”

You snuggle closer, feeling his spent cock try to harden again; you know he will soon be ready, he can’t resist the spell of your body.

“Would you truly fuck me as I cut him into pieces to send to his whore mother?”

“I would do anything you ask. I can have him bought here for you to play with, if that would make you happy.”

“I don’t want him soiling our rooms. I want him to rot in the cell, where he belongs.”

“Then, I would fuck him against the bars after you’re done with him and choose together which part of him to send her.”

You let your index play with the sparse, platinum hair on his chest.

“I was thinking that we could send her another part of him as a warning: either she stops her madness, or she’ll have her son back piece by piece.”

Aemond looks at you with naked adoration.

“He’s always been her favorite.” He says, his fingers finding the mess of come between your legs and your hole ready for him. “She will bend the knee, and accept our conditions.”

You moan when his fingers breach you again and start fucking you almost lazily.

“They will all have to die.” You whimper, feeling the delicious flames of desire burn anew.

“I will personally behead Daemon.” He smiles. “What do you want to do with the bastards?”

You’re gasping against his lips, your hips following the slow, tantalizing rhythm he’s forcing you to follow.

“Can I play with them? See how long they’ll last?”

“You’ll make sure they will suffer for days. I promise you that you’ll come back to our chambers covered in blood and with my seed leaking down your legs.”

You whimper when his fingers find your spot again to massage it with intent, your muscles clamping again as your end comes barreling down.

“I will bathe you, afterwards. Make sure their stink doesn’t attach itself to you. Then, if you’ll let me, I will make love to you again, fill you with my seed.”

Your fingers are like claws, scorching the path of your need down his wide back as the band of pleasure tightens in your belly.

“Put a baby in me, Aemond. I want them to know your line will survive and theirs will not!”

His tongue attacks the dried blood on your body again, licking the ferrous taste with abandon and hunger.

“I will put as many babies in you as you’ll let me.”

“Yes! Ah, Aemond!” You whimper. “I wanna eat his heart as his whore mother watches and weeps! I wanna kill her after she’s witnessed what her betrayal to you did to her bastards!”

His fingers fuck you fast and unforgiving, the squelching sounds of your pleasure all he can hear.

“I will build you a torture chamber, where you can play, and I can fuck you as they cry and beg for mercy.”

“Yes! Yes!”

You’re delirious now, riding his fingers and scratching his back, your voice hoarse with your screams of pleasure.

You’re putty against him, happy and sated you rub your body against his.

“Do you want to go to the dungeons and pick another piece of him? As much as I love your gift, I think it would be more affecting if we were to send her his eyeball with some of his clothing.”

“Yes! I want her to suffer. I want her haunted by the knowledge that her bastard son is in danger, until she comes begging for him. I want any hopes she has burn as she sees her bastards suffer and die.”

“And she will. The Stranger will come as a relief, still, she’ll die knowing she has lost.” His eye looks haunted now. “She wanted me to be sharply questioned, when he took my eye. She’ll witnessed what that is, on each one of them.”

He’s hard as steel against your tummy, his cock head already weeping for you; you roll on your back, spreading your legs, showing him the mess you two have created when you open your outer lips for him to witness how your hole clenches in hunger.

“Fill me again, Aemond and don’t pull out. I want to feel you inside of me as we compose our message.”

“Only if you wait for me tomorrow, and let me join you in playing with your new toy.”

“Yes.” You moan as he breaches you slowly. “And if she resists, we’ll decide together which piece to cut and send.”

He twitches inside of you at the thought: the bastard is going to end up in pieces, and his mother will learn of it all too late.