#the feeling will pass...eventually...and then come back...and then pass again

[pomegranatelifethis]

A mistake

**English is not my native language**

The place where it all began, trapped in a small room between only you and the darkness. When did being Bruce Wayne's daughter make you happy? People looked at the Wayne family's children with admiration, but no one saw you. Perhaps the biggest problem with you was that your existence meant nothing to anyone.

Days passed, you were forgotten more and more with each passing minute. How empty it was that Alfred forgot to invite you to dinner every night, that Damian didn't find you entertaining, that Dick didn't care about you... In all this chaos, you felt like you were being pushed aside. And you were hiding behind your tears, with the feeling of loneliness getting deeper with every moment.

But no one noticed.

One day, there was a terrible silence in the dark streets of Gotham. When the Joker decided to take care of you, none of the family noticed you were missing. The heroes fighting outside were so busy protecting the city that they didn't even care that you were missing. Many nights you had to go out quietly, wander the streets and come back. But you never really became a family. No one called you, no one noticed you were missing.

Everything took on a different meaning in Joker's hands. His sarcastic smile was wearing you out more and more every day. He constantly ignored you in his games and made you feel like nothing. The tortures and psychological games were weakening you so much that you eventually started to accept: No one really cared about you.

The first day, when Joker kidnapped you, no one noticed. Everything was in the past. When he disappeared a few days later, no one was surprised. A week later, no one even called you. Two weeks, two whole weeks… But there was something. During those two weeks, something changed. A void was created within everyone. They had begun to realize, but it was too late.

First Days - Joker's Games:

When the Joker kidnapped you, you were afraid of physical pain at first, but over time the psychological torture began to become a greater threat. He was starting to learn about your weaknesses, fears and pains. He was constantly causing you pain and trying to slowly break your spirit. The pain you have experienced before has never been this deep.

Your body could heal, but your soul would be much harder to heal. The Joker was testing your mental limits. At first he physically challenged you: chains, beatings, cuts… but over time he became more insidious. “Do you think your family is looking for you?” he was saying to you, there was a mocking sparkle in his eyes. “You will just be a loss, forgotten. No one will remember you.” These words hurt you more than you had ever felt before.

Every day he questioned you in some way and left you in pain. His biggest torture was leaving you alone. He left you in a room for hours, days, silently. When he entered the room, you saw him smiling. And that smile made you feel like everything was over. Sometimes he would tie you to a table and ask you to close your eyes. “Aren't you going to follow me?” he would ask, with that cold emptiness in his eyes.

The Batfamily's Realization - Delayed Guilt:

.

The Joker's Last Games - Acceptance:

As time went on, Joker broke you more and more every day. It seemed like everything was lost for you now. He enjoyed seeing you. “A family, right? “But you lost them,” he said. And one day, he tied you to a chair and said that old saying again. “No one will remember you. Your family lost you. You are also a loss that they don't remember.”

At that moment, something changed in your eyes. That old light disappeared from his eyes. You fell into such a deep void that nothing could get you out of there anymore. It only took one word to break. That word came out of Joker's mouth. “They lost you because they never wanted you.”

Family Regrets - Lost Forever:

Bruce shook you and said, “Forgive me,” holding your shoulder. Tim, Jason, Damian and Dick were there too, but no matter how much they told you how sorry they were, it was different from what you felt. “Don't try to forgive me. "It was too late," you could say, but your voice cracked and a few tears rolled down your eyes.

The deeper the void gets as you feel how tightly they hold you. With every touch, you feel like you're being pulled back one step further. At that moment, everything they think they love about you turns into a pressure on you. When they say they want to hug you, hold you, take care of you every time they approach you, a feeling pushes you back. As you feel this, your body seems to be running away from them, but your heart is still waiting for love. No matter how much they want to hug you, your body wants to escape from them.

Bruce: Bruce's hands could feel the pain inside you as he held you tightly. But you involuntarily pull your body back. At that moment, Bruce's pitying gaze pushes you away. So much had happened that everything he did to protect you was never enough. “I can't let you go anywhere,” he whispered, but there was an increasing obsession in his every word as you couldn't even take a step. Every time he approaches you, he holds you so tightly that as you feel it, the little voice inside you says, “Don't leave me.”

But every touch of his cuts you like a knife. “Do you think you like this?” you think. At that moment, as you think about how much Bruce loves you, your body involuntarily moves further away, and you respond to every approach with fear.

Tim: Tim, everything changed when they lost you. Now that he had found you, the desire to control every moment of you was increasing. While he was watching your every move, he was pushing every limit to protect you. But every time, your body was retreating even one step. Even though he approached so quickly, every move of his pushed you further back. “Don't be afraid of me,” he was saying, but the fierce possessiveness in his approach made you feel like a pit that took you out of this world.

Every touch, every touch, was causing your traumas to come to life in your body. Your withdrawal was bringing him closer. As you thought everything was over, you were lost in time. When he said, "Stay away from me," there was a kind of bullying in those words that tried to close you down even more. But you were running away from him with every move, trying to prevent your body from shaking involuntarily every time you felt his hand.

Jason: When Jason found you, he felt like he missed every moment you were lost and buried that emptiness inside you. But when he found you, his hands really scared you. He hugs you so tightly that every muscle tightens, and as he tries to touch every part of you, you get colder and colder inside. “You won't be harmed, I promise,” he said, but there was something in that promise that turned into holding you, controlling you, trapping you completely to yourself. Day by day, Jason was becoming more and more possessive of you, but you felt every moment with a desire to escape and be protected. Every time his hand held you, every time he tried to caress your cheek, it caused invisible wounds to swell on your body.

When you said, “Stay with me,” your body didn't want to take another step towards him, and you were getting more and more tense with every movement. The heavy pressure on everything made you feel colder inside, forcing you to belong to no one. Even though you wanted to see the love in him, you didn't think you could really trust him anymore. Every violent hug pushed you back, reminding you of feelings you were sure you had forgotten. Jason's touches no longer felt like comfort, but like a threat.

Damian: When Damian found you, there was fear in his eyes, but that fear had turned into an obsession to protect you. Seeing the emptiness inside you pushed him to own it more. But those looks that were always trying to possess you suddenly pierced you. Every time he touched you, every time he leaned towards you, there was a sense of fear that pushed you back. Whenever he brought his hands closer to you, you involuntarily took a step back. When he said, "Don't run away from me," these words broke you down, along with the weakness in his voice. As your body retreated, Damian wanted to get closer. Not for you, but for fear of losing him. But with every touch, another trauma opened, and with every show of attention, you retreated more. Eventually, this obsession was causing you so much pain that you couldn't trust anyone.

Dick: When Dick found you, he wanted to hug you first, but when he noticed the tension in your body, he took a step back. But this retreat was like one step closer to losing you for him. The fact that he wanted to spend every moment with you and protect you left a painful echo in your body. He was so close that every time you escaped, he was trying to attract you more. When he said, "Don't leave me," there was so much fear in his eyes that he thought that if you took one more step back, you would lose him completely. But for you, every move became a threat. Every touch of his was pulling you down further.

Conclusion: When the Batfamily lost you, there was deep guilt within them, but what they felt after finding you combined with the emptiness within you and turned into obsessive possession. With each approach, each time they hugged you, the more fear grew inside you as you felt how tightly their hands held you. And in the eyes of each of them was a psychological pressure combined with the fear of losing you. But you felt completely lost, pushing back every touch, to the people you once thought you loved. You felt like a person left alone in fear and pain, having lost confidence.

@celestialbooks

[bybobbysbeard]

Arrivals

Day 8 for @bucktommyfluffebruary: surprise read on ao3 read other days here

Buck smells like an airport. He couldn’t accurately describe what that smell entails, but he knows he stinks of it. He’s exhausted, his feet hurt, and his bad leg is swollen from the pressure changes. He wants to take his sneakers off, drink a massive glass of icy-cold water, and fall into bed; in that order. 

But no matter how crappy he feels, he won’t let a single word of complaint pass his lips. Any discomfort he’s experiencing has to be dwarfed by what Maddie’s going through. She just did the same amount of traveling as him, and she's six months pregnant. Thank God they were only in Pennsylvania for the weekend. His Mom’s retirement party went well, Buck didn’t make a fool of himself, and Maddie was glowing. But being with his parents was as exhausting as ever. 

And that’s not including the fact that they still have no idea how to deal with Buck dating a man. 

They have never cared about anyone he’s dated before, as long as he wasn’t embarrassing them or getting a girl pregnant. And then they saw him with Tommy at Maddie’s wedding. They didn’t say anything, but Buck could feel his Mom’s eyes on him the whole time. Even as he escorted a half-asleep Tommy to his Jeep, they only waved half-heartedly. He assumed they had decided it was a phase, and didn’t need to introduce themselves. 

When he told them on Friday that Tommy was on special deployment, or he would have brought him along, his mom stuttered over three different sentence starts. She finally ended up with, “I didn’t realize you were still with him.”

Before Buck could think better of it, he said, “Technically, I’m with him again.” That had kicked off a barebones explanation of their break-up and reconciliation, which his parents had not reacted well to. 

The rest of the weekend continued in the same tone.  

The pointed, leading questions, which he pretended to misunderstand. The insinuations that he didn’t know his own mind, which he ignored. The blatant aspersions against Tommy, blaming him for confusing Evan and leading him on. Those he addressed immediately, and at one point, it would have devolved into a shouting match, if not for Maddie. 

Suffice to say, he’s happy to be back in Los Angeles, even if he still has an hour long Uber ride ahead of him. Normally, he knows his family would be tripping over themselves to pick them up from the airport, but Chimney is home with a still-sick-but-recovering Jee, and the rest of the 118 is on shift. Most disappointingly, Tommy’s still fighting the wildfires up north, piloting water bombers for another week and a half.

Buck will be going home to an empty loft. 

The baggage carousel comes into view, so Buck parks Maddie by a nearby column and goes to wait for their bags. She’s digging her cell out as he turns away. He checks his own phone, finds ‘welcome home’ messages from the group chat, but nothing from Tommy. He’s probably in the air. Or sleeping. Eventually, a familiar navy bag and maroon suitcase come into view. His duffle gets slung over a shoulder and he leads Maddie’s wheeling suitcase over. They head towards Arrivals without any words exchanged. Maddie’s walking slowly, obviously tired, breath puffing out of her mouth as she rests one hand low on her belly. Buck wraps an arm around her shoulders and she leans into him. 

“I wish Chimney and Jee could have come with us. He’s so good with Mom and Dad, and Jee is so distracting.” She sighs. “I’m sorry again. About what they were saying. I wish they would just be happy for you.”

“It’s alright Mads, I wasn’t about to let you fly to Hershey all alone. I can deal with them for a weekend.”

She lapses into silence again. They turn another corner and step onto an escalator, finally descending to ground level. The Arrivals area is a wider section of the terminal, an open space, right by the main exit. Floor to ceiling windows let in the setting sun. There’s people all around, reunions between travelers and their families happening in a hundred different languages, a hundred different cultures. Buck steers them through the crowd, hearing the laughter and tears in the voices surrounding them. There’s a line of people by the doors, holding signs. Sunbeams edge everyone in gold.

One of the signs says “Buckley.”

Wait, what? His eyes jerk from the sign to the man holding it. 

Holy shit. It’s Tommy. How?!

Buck stops dead. Their eyes meet. He knows his mouth is hanging open. Tommy’s smiling widely, almost laughing at the dumbfounded expression that Buck knows he’s sporting. His face crinkles adorably with the force of his joy. His eyes are sparkling. 

The arm Buck has around Maddie’s shoulder jerks her to a stop too. People continue to stream around them. She darts a look at his face, bursting into laughter and following his gaze to Tommy. She waves, still giggling. Tommy’s already striding over, eating up the distance between them until he's close enough to touch.

Two big hands settle on his cheeks, pinkies applying the smallest pressure to his jaw. His teeth clack together when he finally remembers to shut his mouth. A chaste, gentle kiss is pressed to his lips.

“Hi baby. Welcome home.”

Stupidly, all Buck can think to say is, “you’re supposed to be in Oregon.”

Tommy chuckles. “I was, but the Canadians showed up early, so they sent us home.” His hands drop down to wrap around Buck’s. Their fingers intertwine without Buck’s input. “Surprised?”

Buck nods. He recognizes he’s staring, like Tommy is a hallucination that might disappear at any second, but it's been nearly three weeks since he’s seen his boyfriend. He’s just had a shitty weekend in his hometown, playing the part of a dutiful son to strangers, while worrying about his sister and his unborn nibling, and dealing with the casual disregard he’s come to expect from his parents. Only this time, there was a nice heaping tablespoon of biphobia sprinkled on top. He needs a minute.

Maddie lays a hand on both of their elbows. “Good timing Tommy, I was worried we were going to beat you to the exit.”

Buck whips his head around to stare at her. “You knew!”

She giggles again. He spins back to Tommy. He’s flushed from laughter, radiant in the early evening light. Buck’s gaze darts over his face. His blue eyes, his crow’s feet, his perfect teeth. The cleft. He’s beautiful, and he’s here for Buck. 

It feels like his brain finally comes back online. Tommy’s here. For Buck.

Buck lunges forward, driving a little oomph out of Tommy and wrapping his arms around him tightly. He squeezes and lifts, hoisting Tommy a few inches into the air, making him flail and squeak out an undignified noise. Maddie snorts, bending at the waist, helpless with mirth. Tommy’s hands land on his shoulders, fingertips digging into the muscle, little spots of warm pressure. 

“Evan! Put me down, oh my God. I missed you too!”

[hwaslayer]

the space between us three (jyh) | six.

⇢series masterlist | series playlist

⇢summary: while juggling the demands of life, yunho continues to do his best to raise his independent 11 yr old daughter, seora. throughout the years, they've built a strong foundation, an unbreakable bond— one that consists of late night talks and food runs, father/daughter dates, and sideline cheerleading at her basketball games. so when you unexpectedly come into their world, things shift. despite the uncertainty and the fear of stepping outside of their comfort zone, yunho and seora eventually learn how to open their hearts and learn how to rebuild a home where three can thrive together.

⇢pairing: single dad!yunho x f. reader

⇢genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, single dad au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

⇢word count: 6.6k

⇢chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language, seora spends time with her uncle mingi, first date <33, yunho opens up about his parents to oc, holding hands, good conversations & just a bunch of cute simp shit, goodnight kisses 🥰, i swear things will get a lil spicier next chap lmao

yunho: goodmorning. 😊

This morning had been one of those mornings. You had gotten up a little later than usual, feeling tired from the exhausting week. On top of that, you turned down Yunho's offer to bring you to work so that you wouldn't have to take the bus over; afraid you'd be asking for too much since he was gonna be driving around later tonight. Had you known the bus would be running late, you might've taken him up on it. But, with it being Friday, you were just excited to get your day over with so that you could hang out with Yunho one-on-one.

It was a blessing and a curse that it was busy as soon as you walked in this morning. A blessing because the day would breeze on by. A curse because you didn't even get a chance to respond to Yunho's cute lil text before jumping right into your task list. Until, your desktop computer decided to be stubborn and stop working properly— setting you behind even more than you already were due to the commute.

you: hi, goodmorning ☺️

you: i'm sorry for the late response! i'm having quite the morning. i have so much to do, but my desktop isn't working now. i feel so incomplet and useless. 😭

yunho: it's okay! not like i thought you forgot about me or anything .. 🥲

you: lol sorry, never!

yunho: wdym it's not working?

you: it won't stay on. keeps going on power save mode even though my settings are adjusted to never go on power save mode.

yunho: interesting. where do you sit in the peds hospital again?

you: 4th floor, M103.

yunho: i'll be over in a sec.

you: yunho?? you don't even support our unit 😭

yunho: and? lol. i have time. brb!

"What?" You mutter to yourself as you set your phone down, a little worried about Yunho getting in trouble or pushing off his work to help you. You shrug it off, scribbling in your planner and working through emails on your laptop until Yunho swings by.

Which, didn't take him long post-reply. He was at your cubicle about 15 minutes later.

"Hey." Yunho says softly.

"Hi." You shyly laugh. "How did you even get in here?"

"IT has access everywhere, believe it or not." He smiles before pointing at your desktop. "Mind if I take a look?"

"Go for it." He pulls up an empty office chair nearby and drags it over to your desk, sitting comfortably as he presses the power button. He presses it a few times and clicks away at your mouse until the screen pops up. 

"Hm." He hums. "Took awhile."

"It's gonna shut down on you."

"Is that what's been happening?"

"Mhm. Just now actually. When I get it back up and running, it'll let me work for a few minutes before it shuts off and goes into power mode randomly." He's click-clacking away on the keyboard, forehead tightly knit as he eventually rests his elbow on the desk— hand hovering over his mouth, with the other on the mouse.

"How old is your computer?"

"I don't know, maybe 8-10 years old? It was passed down from the previous project manager when I stepped into her role."

"Yikes." He laughs. "I'll try a few things, but might also be a good time to consider getting a new one." He starts pulling up the terminal and plugging in some code— language you definitely don't understand.

"Yeah, I know."

"You actively push data or other work to the cloud, right? So you have a backup and can pull it up anywhere?"

"Mhm."

"Good." He gives you a small smirk. "Then, getting a replacement wouldn't be so bad. You deserve it." You laugh.

"Hope the department thinks so."

"I mean, you do need a working computer to get your things done." He sits back in the chair and crosses his arms, slightly slumped in his position. "I just plugged in a code to mimic the movement of your mouse so the computer thinks something is always happening. If you look closely at the pointer, you can see it twitching a bit." You look up close on the screen and manage to see what he's talking about.

"Woah. Okay, genius."

"Not even." He laughs. "If you don't mind me being in your space for a little longer, I wanna see if this keeps your computer awake."

"As long as it isn't taking up unnecessary time and making you behind."

"Never." He smiles at you. "So."

"So." You mimic him. "Where are you taking me later?"

"For me to know and you to find out." You snort.

"Clever. Am I dressed enough for the occasion?" Yunho eyes your outfit, running a finger across his bottom lip while he smirks at you. 

"Yeah, you look good. You always do." You playfully push him on the bicep, making him laugh. "What? I can't be honest?"

"Hey— oh? Oops. Hi Yunho." Noeul gives you a look before slowly walking away. 

"Hey Noeul." 

"I'll come back later." She mouths out as Yunho gives off a small chuckle. Suddenly, he shifts his attention back to your computer when he notices the screen go black, and he's back to sitting up again. 

"Damn." He tries fiddling with the mouse and keyboard again. "Guess that didn't work. I think this is a hardware issue now, but .." He turns to you with the same smirk he was sporting earlier when he was spitting out those compliments. "Since your computer is pretty old, I can't say it won't act up again if you get this serviced."

"So, you're saying a new computer is definitely the way to go." He nods.

"You deserve it." He stands as he reminds you. "You should think about getting a 38" monitor instead of having two. It's basically the equivalent and helps with productivity."

"What are some good ones?"

"I can send you some recs in a bit. I'm sorry you'll have to work from your laptop for now. But, whatever you order, I can help make sure it gets to you ASAP and I'll help set it up."

"Yunho." You slightly pout as he's slowly walking out of your cubicle.

"No but's. I got you." He looks down at his watch. "Anyway, gotta head back."

"See, don't tell me you have tons of stuff to catch up on now because of me?"

"I doooon't." He almost whines with a small laugh. He totally does. He's actually kinda swamped, but he made it over anyway because seeing you is nice. "See you later?" You nod and giggle. "I'll text you when I'm all wrapped up on my end."

"Okay. Thank you again."

"No worries." He playfully sends you a wink before walking off and out of the office area. Noeul finally comes creeping up to your cubicle, squealing at a low tone.

"Stop, he's so into you."

"Don't start." You bite onto your bottom lip as you continue to keep your eyes glued onto the tiny laptop screen.

"Where is he taking you? Did he say anything?"

"Nope. I am completely in the dark."

"Those are the best kinda dates. He's gonna take good care of you."

"I just wanna get out of here." You whine as your place your head down on your desk for a few minutes.

"You will! And the wait will be worth it!" You look up at her and let out a small sigh, nodding your head.

"You're right. Let me tackle all of this so I can get outta here sooner than later."

"And hang out with your man, yes!" She leans against your desk. "By the way, what'd he say about your computer?"

"Oh, this thing is done with. I need a new one. I'm just waiting for Yunho to send me some recs."

"Been telling you that."

"Well, it kept me going for some time." You pat the top of the monitor screen. "It was nice while it lasted."

"I love this for you, you know that? Upgrading your computer, your love life. This era is cute." You chuckle and shake your head.

"Go. I gotta get back to work." You push her along, making her giggle at how obviously flustered you are over the topic.

yunho: some recs for the boss lady!

You see Yunho's Slack message come in, along with links from the IT catalog. 

yunho: this CPU should do you good, along with the 38". 😮‍💨

you: haha, thank you. 😊 i'll place my order right now!

yunho: can you send me your ticket number so i can keep an eye on it?

you: maybe....

yunho: ☹️☹️☹️☹️

you: you have too much other work to worry about!

yunho: including your ticket, yes!

you: you're unbelievable. 😂

yunho: you can always opt out for tonight (ouch) ..... 😖

you: never! lol. i'm excited actually. ☺️

yunho: i am, too. 

You smile to yourself during the brief pause in between messages, unsure how to respond to Yunho without sounding like you're doing too much or saying something crazy. But, the Slack notification goes off again—

yunho: okay, i actually gtg and help jihoon with something.

yunho: seriously send me your ticket number after you're done, pls!

Pause.

yunho: can't wait to spend time with you, y/n.

And all that overthinking goes straight out the window.

you: same. 😌

Seora had a long day at school— her day filled with a bunch of tests and pop quizzes, damn near dragging herself out of the classroom and into the gym afterward. She happily talks with her friends as they change into their practice gear, joking around and being the typical girls they are as they get out onto the floor with their water bottles. After equal wins and losses, the coach decides to continue running and improving plays to push the team forward to the playoffs and hopefully, a championship win. 

When practice wraps up, Seora grabs her things and finds her other favorite uncle talking to some of the parents outside of the gym; sweat still on her face, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. When his eyes finally land on hers, he gives Seora's hair a good ruffle before taking her bags from her.

"Ace!"

"Uncle Mangi!" She copies his tone and laughs.

"How was practice?"

"Tiring. I'm pooped. I can barely feel my legs today."

"Working hard, atta girl. On our way to the WNBA." He tosses her bags in the backseat before hopping in. "Hope you don't mind, I gotta stop at the grocery store really quickly for our dinner."

"Only if I can grab some snacks."

"Course you can. Don't spoil your appetite for dinner, though. I'm gonna make some galbijjim."

"Yum! One of my faves."

"Exactly." He laughs. "How was school today?"

"The usual. Nothing too special."

"Nothing too special? Nothing happened at all?"

"Nope. Too many tests and pop-quizzes. I did get an A on my math test, though."

"That's something." She nods as she looks out the window.

"So, my dad's got another team dinner?"

"Mhm." He hums.

"Impossible." 

"They've been working really hard on a lot of different things across the hospital lately. Helps relieve stress, I guess." One thing about Mingi is that he will never out Yunho the way Seonghwa unintentionally does. If Yunho's got a team dinner, Mingi will stick to the story down to the T. Maybe even throw in his own details and dramatics to make it more believable.

"He barely used to have team dinners."

"Well, maybe their goal was to have more!"

"Are you hiding something, Uncle Mangi? Cause Uncle Hwa accidentally spilled the beans last time and said dad was on a date."

"Why would your Uncle Hwa do that? Should I fight him?" Seora laughs and shakes her head. "He wasn't on a date."

"Uncle Mangi." He looks at her.

"Mhm?"

"Lying is bad."

"I'm not lying!" She continues to squint her eyes at him before finally giving up her case and settling back into the seat. 

"Fine. What about you then, Uncle Mangi? What's new? How was your trip to Japan?"

"Nothing much. But, it was good. Nice to be in different sceneries from time to time."

"Dad keeps saying we'll tag along one day, but we haven't yet. I wanna go soon."

"I'll let him know, don't worry."

"They must have soooo much cute stuff. Don't they?"

"Lots." Mingi pulls up to the grocery store, driving into a spot near the entrance. "You'd definitely love it there."

"Where else have you been, Uncle Mangi?" She follows alongside of her towering uncle while he grabs a cart and heads into the store.

"Everywhere and nowhere all at the same time." She laughs.

"Seriously."

"One place I'll always remember is Switzerland. It's beautiful there. Probably one of my top places I've been to."

"I'm sure. I've only seen it in books, but it looks really pretty."

"It is. Those textbook pics definitely don't do it enough justice." Mingi sorts through the meat packages while Seora quickly wanders off into an aisle to grab her favorite chips and cookies. She drops it into the cart, with Mingi barely noticing.

"I have a random question for you."

"Try me."

"Do you think it's better to lock yourself up in a grocery store like this during a zombie apocalypse or keep it moving?"

"Well." Mingi continues to slowly walk down the aisles, making sure he doesn't miss any ingredients on his mental grocery list needed for tonight's dinner. "I'd say keep it moving."

"Why? You'd have everything in here."

"That's if no one raids the store, which would be impossible at that time. Plus, it can only keep you safe for so long before zombies find their way in or another group comes around. You could quite literally die before you even have a chance to try and survive."

"You'd have to take a break at some point though, right?"

"You could, but always best to keep it moving, ace. Never leave a trail for people."

"Okay, touché."

"Cereal first or milk first?" Mingi suddenly asks as they go through the cereal section.

"Cereal."

"What? No. Did your dad teach you that?"

"What kind of planet are you living on? Isn't that how it normally is?" Mingi stops the cart and looks at her. 

"Warm or cold milk then?"

"For cereal?" Mingi nods. "Cold?!"

"You and your weird ass dad." Seora laughs loudly. "Did anybody want a child? Cause this one is not mine—" Seora pinches her uncle's bicep, causing him to yelp as they push through the remaining aisles.

"You soggy cereal lover." Seora points out.

"That's literally the best way to have it."

"Ew, you're like eating mushed up cardboard." Mingi sighs.

"You're very lucky I love you and that your dad is my bestfriend or else I would've blocked him."

"You're so dramatic." She throws more snacks into the cart just as they're about to head to the registers.

"Any more snacks or you're good?"

"I'm good! I'm excited for dinner." Mingi laughs.

"I am, too. Too bad I gotta cook it first."

"You're a great cook, Uncle Mangi. I always enjoy the food you make." She tugs on his sleeve.

"I do try my best." She helps her uncle load the groceries onto the belt, pulling the cart towards the end to help bag up their things and throw it back in. Mingi taps his card to the reader before helping Seora with the heavier bags. Once they've gathered all their things, Mingi pushes the cart over to the car, loading it up in his trunk while Seora plops into the front seat. "Ready to head home?"

"Yeah, dying to shake a shower." Mingi starts up the car and begins the journey home.

"Yeah, you need it." He teases, causing Seora to lightly punch him on the arm.

"You're mean!"

"Kidding!" He laughs. "So, what's on the agenda tonight? We eat, you do homework. Watch some shows? Talk a walk around the neighborhood?"

"Sure, whatever floats your boat. I kinda have a bit of homework so I dunno about that walk. Plus, I'm pretty sore already."

"Okay, we'll play it by ear then." On the way home, Seora continues to tell Mingi about the staycation her father took her on and the new dog café they visited. She talks to him about her friends and how one of her friends started having a crush on one of the boys in their class. Mingi playfully gasps before lecturing her about boys and how icky they can be [coming from an honest heart]. But Seora laughs it off and tells her uncle that she's not really worried about that stuff.

All Mingi can say in response is 'you better not be.'

When the two finally get home, Mingi immediately sets himself up in the kitchen to get dinner going, while Seora throws her backpack down in the living room and heads straight to the shower. She takes a good, long shower before throwing on her pajamas and brushing through her wet hair. She sits on the living room floor and gets going with her homework while waiting for her uncle to finish cooking dinner.

Meanwhile, Yunho makes his way over to the peds hospital— happily stepping into the elevator to make his way back up to your office. When he gets there, he realizes most people have already clocked out and left for the day, only leaving you and a select few heads working away in the cubicles.

"Hey. Ready?" You smile as you look up at Yunho, sending one last meeting invite for next week before closing down your apps and shutting off your laptop.

"Yeah! I thought you were gonna text me so I could meet you halfway."

"Um, no." Yunho laughs. "I would much rather come get you so we can walk to the car together." 

"That's sweet." You throw on your coat and slide the bag strap over your shoulder. "So, how was the rest of your day?"

"Good. Not too crazy, at least."

"Did the offers go out to the candidates you were planning on hiring?"

"Oh, yeah! They actually signed earlier this week and they'll be starting next week. They were able to get the background checks cleared out in time."

"Aw, that's awesome! You guys will finally get help." 

"Yeah. It'll be busy for awhile getting them onboarded and trained."

"Yunho's gonna go MIA."

"Yunho is not gonna go MIA." He laughs. 

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah, of course." He chuckles. "I'll always make time."

"You say that now."

"And I'll say it tomorrow, and the next day, and so on." He pinches your cheeks. "Don't trip." You smile feeling his warm touch against your skin. "Well, I didn't think it'd be so cold this evening. Are you okay with your coat and all? Is it enough?"

"It is."

"Okay, well just let me know. We'll be inside for the most part, but I want you to be comfortable."

"Thank you." You continue to walk alongside of Yunho until you get to his car. You give him the ins and outs of your day besides the whole computer issue that he tried to rescue you from while he grabs your bags and gently sets it in the trunk of his BMW and pops the door open for you. When you slide in and get comfortable, you notice how spotless his car is and how it smells like a hint of his cologne, along with laundry detergent and the fresh car smell. There are a few colorful hair ties lining the bottom of one of the cupholders, along with a hoodie in the backseat and a basketball. Yunho laughs and apologizes for Seora's mess— he also hasn't gotten a chance to bring in her things simply because he doesn't think much of it.

It almost feels like Seora is with him one way or another and he finds comfort in that.

On the drive over to dinner, he asks a bit about what other days look like for you and if you anticipate other big projects to come your way. You talk about a new project that was already mentioned to you by your manager, which involves remodeling one of the levels to a study/meeting area. You also tell Yunho it isn't a high priority, but you've already started the conversation with some of the facilities coordinators that can help rope in the appropriate vendors for certain tasks.

He transitions by telling you a few of the little projects he's been working on with his team, along with figuring out how to upgrade systems and all that jazz. You find that Yunho and his team are constantly working to support so many different departments, and it amazes you how well Yunho is able to delegate and keep himself afloat. You ask if he's ever had to work late because of really urgent issues and he says he's only had to do it once or twice— most can typically wait until the morning.

"Okay." He says, pulling into a tight, narrow street to start looking for parking. "We're here."

"I have no idea where we're at."

"Oh." Yunho laughs. "That's good then. More of a surprise for you. But, please keep your expectations down cause I didn't do much."

"Stop. Don't say things like that. I'll love it either way." Yunho smiles as he turns another corner and finds a spot right away. He parks flawlessly next to the curb, shutting off his car before turning back to you. 

"Ready?" You nod quietly, watching as Yunho hops out and does a light jog over to open the door for you. You give him a smile and tug on your coat while Yunho locks his door and leads the way next to you, hand on the small of your back. The walk isn't too far, the restaurant being down on the opposite end of the street, across the block. To your surprise, Yunho brings you to one of the new conveyor belt sushi restaurants. He greets the host and he immediately takes you back to a little booth near the belt. It's snug enough to fit two people. 

"I'm excited." You look at Yunho and he laughs.

"Same, I could eat. You like sushi, right? Please tell me I didn't fuck up." He looks concerned for a moment.

"No, no. I love sushi. I actually haven't had it in so long." You rearrange your set up so you can eat comfortably, the waiter taking your order for drinks. You both ask for water, but before the waiter can walk off, Yunho suddenly asks for two glasses of hot sake. 

"Thank you." He says, giving the waiter a curt nod.

"Sake?"

"Our little celebration for getting through the week."

"Wow, okay. Touché. I can get behind that." You look at him. "My birthday's coming up. You should come out with Mingi and Seonghwa. We're heading out to the club." You pause before shaking your head. "Or, actually, I'm being forced to go to the club to celebrate."

"Forced, hm?" He laughs. "That sounds fun, though. Send me the details. We'll definitely try to celebrate with you."

"Might be fun. We can be a fun group of people."

"Yeah?" Yunho likes that, you're down for things and he can tell you go with the flow. He likes someone who can just have fun with him. Someone who can just be with him; it wouldn't matter where they go or where their relationship takes them.

"Mhm. And I can tell you guys are fun." You laugh. "Seora must love having you as her dad."

"I hope so." Yunho laughs along. "By the way, feel free to start digging in." He gestures towards the moving conveyor belt and you happily start exploring your options as they come— taking a fresh plate of salmon nigiri to start off. The waiter quickly comes back with two glasses of hot sake, making Yunho smirk at you. He sets his chopsticks down and slides your glass over, raising his while you take yours. "Cheers? For getting through the week."

"Cheers!" You say cheerfully, tapping your glass against his before taking some of the hot sake down your throat. It burns, but the heat brings more warmth to your body on this cold evening. "Speaking of Seora, where is she right now now?" You drink a bit more before taking another plate off the belt.

"Spending time with her Uncle Mingi."

"That's cute." Yunho grabs a few plates and sets them aside while he decides which one he'll tackle first.

"She had practice and I had him go pick her up. I think they were heading to the grocery store to buy some ingredients for dinner before heading home last time he texted me."

"What did you tell her?"

"Mm." He hums. "I hope you don't take it personally or anything, but I told her it was a team dinner."

"No, of course not."

"I just, yeah." He chuckles a bit. "It's just easier to go with that."

"I believe it." The both of you continue to eat away at the sushi, small, empty plates piling up on the side of the table. Small conversations continue about day-to-day life; you and your friends, what you've been doing for yourself lately. Suddenly, you dwell on the fact that you don't know much about Yunho besides his day-to-day life with Seora and work. You know about his friends, his coworkers. But, you don't know anything deeper about his personal life.

His parents.

You didn't wanna be nosy and pry, but you wondered why his parents weren't the ones watching Seora. 

Was it too much of you to ask?

Was this considered a real date if you two weren't trying to get to know each other? What were the boundaries?

"Yunho?"

"What's up?"

"Can I ask you something more personal?"

"Anything."

"I hope I'm not crossing boundaries here, but what about your parents? How come they don't watch Seora?"

"You're not crossing any boundaries." Yunho reassures you, but shakes his head before dipping into his next plate of sushi. "Uh, it's complicated. Things kinda just fell apart when Eunha passed." You slowly nod. "When my parents found out Eunha was pregnant, they didn't want us to continue with the pregnancy cause we were, what? 20 years old when we found out? Still in the midst of college. But, that's not what we wanted. They almost got to Eunha but we pushed through in the end and we had Seora. It was really hard for a long, long time, but Seora was worth every bit of it. My parents obviously didn't like the fact that we went against their wishes, so they kept their distance. It's been that way ever since, even when Eunha passed. I think it got worst, actually. Plus, I never had the best relationship with them from the get-go. They only see Seora once in a blue moon. They're the grandparents that just send the occasional bouts of money, birthday and holidays cards. Seora always wonders about them, but I can never give her an answer as to why her grandparents aren't around." 

"I'm sorry, Yunho."

"Don't be sorry." Yunho smiles a bit.

"W-what about Eunha's parents?" You wanna ask about Eunha too, but you know this isn't the time.

"Uh, they're the same. They—" He pauses. "They cut off ties when she passed because it was too hard for them."

"Oh. Yunho." You say sympathetically, feeling incredibly bad for having brought it up in the first place. "I really am sorry. I didn't mean to be such a debbie downer during dinner."

"No, it's okay. I promise. I've.. gotten used to it at this point. It used to be hard for me, but I've accepted everything."

"Still doesn't mean it doesn't get hard for you."

"I've learned to manage." He gives you a tiny, toothless smile.

"I hope you know you're doing an amazing job balancing everything and for being a great father to Seora."

"Thanks." 

"I'm also glad you have Seonghwa and Mingi."

"Me too." He laughs. "They're a pain in my ass, but they're my bestfriends. I don't think I would have been able to get through a lot without them. And they're good to Seora."

"That's good, I'm glad." You eat a bit more before you feel yourself getting content and full.

"Full?"

"Damn near. I think I ate too fast." You chuckle. "I'm almost done with my sake."

"Bottoms up?" You nod, tapping your glass against his before the both of you take it to the neck. Yunho finishes up a few more plates before he sits back and gulps his water down, causing you to giggle to yourself. "Fuck, I'm full. Overdid it, for sure."

"Was worth every bit of it, though. Maybe we should walk it off?"

"Yeah. Let's head to the next stop. I think you'll like it. And we'll get our steps in." He pulls his wallet out of his pocket, calling the waiter over.

"Can I split with you?"

"Absolutely not." Yunho says, handing over his card directly to him.

"You're already driving me everywhere and taking me to another location after this. The least I can do is chip in."

"Nope. The least you can do is just enjoy yourself with me tonight." He smiles sweetly just as he grabs the receipt handed to him by the waiter, signing off and tucking his own copy swiftly into his pocket before looking at you. 

"Couldn't even let me see the receipt."

"Nope." He repeats and stands. "Ready to go, pretty girl?" You feel the heat rise to your cheeks as you stand and nod, leading the way out of the restaurant with Yunho in tow. He answers your questions on the way to the car, giving you hints about the next location. It still leaves you stumped in the end, deciding to let Yunho continue taking matters into his own hands with you. He opens the door like the gentleman he is, slipping into the driver's seat as he rubs his hands together and immediately turns the heat on when he starts the car. "All good? Too hot?"

"Just perfect."

"Good." You sit back comfortably as Yunho sets off for the next destination for tonight. "So, how was the sushi? Be honest."

"It was so good!" He looks at you when he comes to a red light, almost as if he's trying to read you, really read you, and you giggle. "What?"

"Just making sure."

"That I'm not lying?"

"Maybe." You laugh even more.

"I would never. If I didn't enjoy it, I would've given an honest review."

"Mmkay, I believe you." He laughs. "I want you to have a good night with me."

"I am already." You look at him with a soft expression. "And I'm sure the next part to this will be just as fun. If not, more. I trust you."

"Do you?"

"I do." Yunho smiles, wanting to hold your hand so badly while he drives. But, he doesn't. He holds back. He feels like there could be a better opportunity.

One that'll feel right and set the mood for the remainder of the night.

For this entirely.

After a good 20 minutes of driving down south, Yunho exits off the freeway and takes an immediate right down towards a large-sized building with all modern exterior designs. He parks in the lot next to it, doing his gentleman deed of helping you out of the car and leading you towards the beautiful building.

It's one of the city's biggest museums, and the event they're hosting for a couple of weeks is called Spirit House. It focuses on Asian American and Asian diasporic artists that are showcasing art pertaining to horror, spirits, haunted houses, reincarnation, different dimensions and other themes along those lines. You continue to read the pamphlet before Yunho looks at you with a small smile on his face.

"Wanna walk around?" You nod.

"How'd you know I'd be into this stuff?"

"It sounded cool, so why not?"

"You're good, Jeong Yunho." You giggle and continue into the first part of the exhibit. The atmosphere is dark and dim, the artwork on the walls screaming afterlife. Death. Souls. Horror, fear. You're so intrigued that you find yourself slowly moving from work to work; trying to take in all the details of the images in front of you. You didn't even realize Yunho had been watching you from behind, snapping photos every chance he could before moving onto the next room to get a preview of what's to come.

"Hey." Yunho says from behind you. "Wanna show you something in the next room." 

"Okay." You look down at the hand he puts out, waiting for you to take it. You gently slide your hand in his, fingers intertwining before he guides you to the next exhibit and it feels incredibly natural. It's a room full of mini fixtures— almost like miniature set-ups of old fashioned homes and other buildings. He shows you one that has the artist's own adaptation of Junji Ito characters spread across levels of an old, haunted house.

"Oh my god, I love it." You peek down to get a closer look, hand still laced with Yunho's. "I love Junji Ito. And the work in the other room reminded me of Takato Yamamoto. It's amazing."

"Made for you." You chuckle, tugging him along as you both look at the next miniature setups alongside of it. Yunho doesn't even mind one bit. He's enjoying the exhibit, but he's enjoying it even more with you here— holding his hand every step of the way. You snap a few photos of the art before Yunho directs you to stand near one of the exhibits where the lighting falls on you perfectly. He takes a few more photos— more candid ones from behind you especially— just so you have photos to look back at when you wanna reminisce on your first date with him.

The next room of the exhibit is an interactive light show; the  room is completely dark, with different lights projecting things around the room. The background music is mysterious, creepy; fitting the vibe all together. You continue to walk with Yunho while snapping photos of your silhouettes in the mirrors. Yunho gets silly and makes a bunch of poses, making you laugh loudly in the process. At one point, you've found yourself standing near the corner of the room, watching all the lights come together to project a beautiful show onto the walls. Yunho comes next to you, admiring the same view— but you, mainly. You look up at him to tell him how amazing the event is, but he's already looking down at you with fondness and endearment sprinkled in his big brown orbs.

You almost.. wanna kiss him.

But, you shake off the thought quickly by dragging him to the next exhibits— loosely holding his hand throughout the rest of the event.

Too bad he would've kissed you back, had you known.

No, he needs to be a gentleman and he needs to do right by you, Yunho thinks. He can't just kiss you on the first date or else he runs the risk of you thinking he only wants you for one thing.

Like Ara; but, that situation is a little different.

"Yunho! That was so fun." You smile at him the way you do, and it melts his heart. "Thank you for taking me to this."

"Of course. I think it ends after the weekend, so perfect timing." You quickly scroll through some of the pictures you took. "I'll send you the pictures I have later."

"Okay." You look at the buskers on the opposite end of the street, along with a food cart nearby. "Yunho, let's go check it out really quickly!"

"I'm down." He nods, noticing it's only about to hit 10pm. Seora must be waiting for him, but he knows she'll sleep until he gets there and Mingi hasn't made a peep. He feels like he's in the clear.

He holds your hand tightly as you both cross the street safely, stopping near the food cart first while lightly bouncing to the live music nearby.

"Want a snack?" You nod and cling onto his arm.

"I could use one. Museum took up my energy." He laughs. Yunho buys some custard-filled bungeoppang for you two to snack on while observing the buskers. You bounce along next to him and he starts to dance in his own way, making you laugh at how cute he's being with you. You snap a few photos of him that you'll share later, not knowing Yunho had a bunch of your photos to share as well.

You and Yunho sing along to some familiar songs before the buskers end the first half of their performance for a tiny break.

"That was cool. They did really well!"

"They were so good!" You toss in some cash into the guitar case. "And I didn't know you could sing!"

"I— no." Yunho laughs.

"I wanna hear more of your singing." You pout as you tug on his arm on the way back to the car.

"Maybe."

"Yunho." You whine and he laughs.

"I promise you it's nothing that great."

"Very much the opposite of what I think, just so you know." He stands by the passenger door, allowing you to hop in but he doesn't close the door right away. He stands and looks at you and there's something in his eyes that you can't really read.

"I hope you enjoyed it."

"I did. A lot." He licks his lips, and you can tell he's having the same internal battle you had not too long ago in the light exhibit. But, he brushes it off by tapping the door frame before shutting your door gently and hopping into his seat. 

The drive home is as expected; with you and Yunho talking about your similar music tastes this time and Yunho being a bit more open about his vocals. You look at him as he sings a tune or two, explaining that his dad is the one with the vocals in the family. You tease that next time, you two should go to a karaoke bar to end the night and he smirks.

At least you're thinking about next time's just like he is, too.

When he pulls up to your apartment, you find yourself not wanting to part from him. You know he has to go home to Seora though, and it breaks your heart knowing she's been waiting for her dad to come home. You step out of the car and tug on your coat, the night colder than it was a few hours ago.

"Welp, this is me." You both look at the apartment building, with Yunho tucking his hands into his pockets.

"Let me walk you up."

"No, it's okay. I promise it's right there." You point at your apartment before chuckling and turning to him completely. "Goodnight, Yunho. Thank you for tonight. I had a lot of fun."

"You're welcome, Y/N." He watches as you lean in to give him a kiss on the cheek. He blushes, and he loves the initiation, but he freezes. Completely. 

"I'll see you next week, hm? Get home safely." You smile toothlessly at him before turning on your heel to walk up to your unit. Just as you're about to make it up the steps, Yunho is chasing after you with long strides, causing you to turn and raise a brow. "Did I leave something?"

"Mm, maybe." He says with a tiny smirk on his face. Suddenly, his large, warm hands come up to cup your cheeks— lips capturing yours in a sweet goodnight kiss. "Goodnight." You smile up at him as his thumb caresses the surface of your right cheek.

"Night." He steps back, biting his bottom lip to prevent himself from smiling too big. He lingers around until he sees you successfully slip into your unit and hears the door shut close.

What he doesn't see is the way you squeal and dig your face into your hands, incredibly giddy and happy from the turn of events.

You really liked Yunho.

And he does, too.

So much that the smile doesn't even fade when he pulls up to the house, Mingi's car leaving enough room for him to park in his usual spot. Yunho can see the faint flickering of the TV lights through the kitchen window, and he knows Seora is probably on the couch waiting for his arrival.

When he steps through the door, Mingi is placing some food into the fridge before returning his attention to the remaining dishes in the sink. He quietly greets his bestfriend before nodding towards the couch— signaling that Seora had fallen asleep while waiting.

"Has it been long?" Yunho asks lowly.

"A bit, yeah. She said practice was exhausting today." Yunho chuckles before crouching down in front of the couch and brushing her hair back.

"Ace." Her eyes slowly flicker open.

"Oh, finally. You're back." He laughs.

"Let's get to bed, hm?" She sleepily nods, sitting up before walking to her bedroom. "Say bye to uncle Mingi."

"Love you, ace!" Mingi calls out as he watches her sleepily walk across the living room.

"Love you too. Goodnight." She mutters and lazily waves before dragging herself into her room and shutting the door. It isn't long before Yunho sees her shut off the lights, causing him to turn the volume down on the TV before helping Mingi clean up.

"So, how was it?" Yunho smiles.

"Good." He avoids eye contact as he blushes, setting the dry dishes into the cabinet.

"Good?"

"Yeah."

"Meaning?" Mingi rests against the corner before smirking at him. " I have time."

"I really, really like her."

⇢taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @nopension @curse-of-art @thechaotictheoryy @likexaxdaydream @dalsuwaha @enha-stars @yasuraokaa @professormingisglasses @yunyunrin @pommelex @astral-trashcan @laura1399 @domfikeluva @tournesol155 @hwaskookies @yusalterego @hwa-stars @hyukssunflower @chngbnwf @jaytheatiny @lucid-galaxys-world @chaotic-floral @sofkloster @honeyrecommends @hwashua-luv @luvv4bby @spicxbnny @pandyandy71 @sanniesaurus @angel-hyuckie @wolviejex @purpleyou7x

[hannahssimblr]

Later, in bed, I toss about. There are too many throw pillows. Astrid’s childhood bedroom is unexpected like that. Floral wallpaper and painted storybook style furniture painted soft green. Fabric lamps printed with delicate petals and trimmed with lace. The bedroom of a fictional princess. 

I’m bothered by the pearl earrings, back in their box on the side table, lit faintly by moonlight through thin curtains. Replaying the scene by the Christmas tree over and over. Coming at it from different angles, all of which I come out looking like the idiot who doesn't know his own girlfriend.

“We all know you love Pat Conroy,” said Mia, when she handed her that book. Does she? Does she like Pat Conroy? She never mentioned it to me. I could have bought her a Pat Conroy book. I could have bought her all his work if I had known that. How is it I’ve seen her read dozens of books, but never thought to ask her about them? Every one of them might have been Pat Conroy, and I was too idiotic to check, assuming she'd turn her nose up at such humble a gift as a book. Not even a new book. It was second hand, with a red discount sticker on the back. She loved it.

And Pernille, with that lavender pillow spray. “Do you remember,” she said, “when you were a teenager and you had that terrible bout of insomnia? You couldn’t sleep for weeks, and eventually it was lavender oil that helped you. Such a simple thing, wasn’t it? How funny.”

The socks from Gitte. Colourful stripes on them. “Ha!” I thought when Astrid unwrapped them. “She won’t wear them.” But I was wrong. She wore them all evening. Took pictures of them and sent them to friends. Look! So cute! She wrote. There they are now, on the chair in the corner of her room, ready to be worn again tomorrow. I toss a throw pillow onto the floor and turn over. The little bed creaks. 

“Mmph,” Astrid murmurs. 

“Did I wake you?”

“Are you okay?”

“I just can’t sleep.”

“Oh. Do you want my pillow spray?”

“It’s fine.”

A minute passes. Two, maybe, and she might have fallen back asleep, but I’m compelled to speak through the silence. “Did you like the earrings?”

She turns, the silhouette of her sloped nose outlined against the window. “Huh?”

“Did you really like the earrings, or were you just being nice? I want to know. You can tell me.”

“Yeah, of course. I think they’re beautiful. Why are you asking me this?”

I pull the blankets under my armpits and stare at the ceiling. Stickers there of woodland animals. “I don’t know, just the things your family got you… they weren’t things I would have ever imagined you would like. I've been second guessing myself.”

“Of course they got me things I like. They’re my family. They know me.”

“Well, I didn’t know you liked certain novels, or that thing about your insomnia, for example. As your boyfriend I'm supposed to know you, too.”

“Oh, well, I suppose those things never came up.”

“You never told me. You never mentioned the insomnia.”

“When have we ever discussed insomnia specifically?”

“Well, never, but I’m sure there’ve been opportunities where you could have included it in some conversation, like for example if I ever said I didn't sleep well the night before, or we watched a film with an insomniac in it, you could have been like, 'oh, that reminds me of this one time', or whatever.”

She gets onto her elbow and stares at me. “Are you angry with me because I never told you about something that was happening for six weeks when I was sixteen?”

“No, I’m confused.”

“Confused.”

“Yes.”

“It is confusing to you? Like I don’t seem the kind of person that would suffer from insomnia?” She’s kind of laughing at me, but it isn’t funny. No, she doesn’t seem like the type of person to have insomnia. She doesn’t seem like the type of person to have any ailment or condition, be it insomnia or athletes’ foot, bronchitis or an under-the-skin pimple on the side of her nose. 

“Astrid, I feel like your family were bringing up stuff about you, and telling stories, and I had this moment in the room down there where I felt exposed. As if I don’t know you at all.”

“You think your gift was inappropriate because it wasn’t related to my past?”

“I'm worried you’ve been pretending to like the things I get for you, or something.”

Her hand comes to my hair, combing gently my scalp with her fingernails. “I don’t pretend. I like that you choose them for me.”

Incredulous. “You like that I choose them.”

“Mm. It’s a window into the way you see me.”

With a surge of emotion, I inhale loudly through my nose and her cool palm moves to my face. “What?”

“The way I see you,” I repeat. “What if I want to see who you actually are?”

“Well, you do. This is who I am.”

“What’s ‘this’?” 

She pauses. “Who I am at home and who I am with you… it’s just different sides. I like getting your gifts. I like the jewellery, because I like being who you want me to be.”

“And I want you to be…?”

“A woman who wants expensive things, reads mysterious books, and never had insomnia.”

I groan. “Is it?”

“Yes.” 

“But I’ve just realised I couldn’t even imagine you being sick at all, you know? I was with girls before who would go on about periods and shit, but you’ve never brought that up with me.”

“I don’t get period cramps.”

“Okay, well, you see my point.”

A low laugh. “I think if I did, I wouldn’t discuss it with you.”

“Why?”

“For the same reason. I don’t think you want me to have ailments and aches and pains. It’s not who I am with you.”

I cover my eyes, dizzy with a mild headache from the effort of our conversation. “Ugh!” I manage. It’s so late, and my stomach is still so full from dinner that I wish I’d just be sick to ease the discomfort. My frail mind cannot handle this discussion.

She comes closer, rests her head in the curve of my neck. “You know, this is special. Having you here on Christmas.” A strategic subject change, not gone unnoticed, but allowed, given the circumstances.

“Hm?”

“I haven’t had a boyfriend over in years. Since I was at school.”

“Oh. Should I feel honoured to be the first guy in your bed?”

She chuckles. “No. My boyfriend from school was here first, sorry to say.”

“Your mom was alright with that, was she?”

“Yeah, sure. I told her I was going to lose my virginity with him and she lit candles and left a box of condoms and some chocolates and things in a basket on the table. She was very supportive.”

“Oh, God, okay. You lost it in this very spot, and your mother knew about it while it was happening.”

“I think she would prefer here than somewhere dirty or unsafe.”

“Very progressive of her.”

“And what place did you do it?”

“Hm. Not at home. Never did anything there. Would have been too weird. I used to just do it anywhere I could find some privacy. On the ground, and stuff. Then eventually I got a car and graduated to the passenger seat.”

“Do you think your parents knew?”

“Nah, they think I'm a virgin.”

“I don’t think so.”

I nod. “Anyway, what I’m picking up from all this is that your weird little princess bedroom is not off limits? She’s already seen it all?”

“Not it all, but some. Tame things.”

“So we’re allowed? Gitte isn’t going to burst in with a bucket of water halfway?” I roll over to deliver a playful bite to her neck. “What type of woman are you, Astrid? The type to fuck a guy in her childhood bedroom while her family sleep in the other rooms?”

“If you say so,” and turns automatically to put her face into the pillow for me, but I halt her, whispering, “No, I literally couldn’t tonight. I feel too horrible from all the food. I just like knowing the option is there.”

“Sure,” she replies. “It's whatever you want.”

I know that already. This is what I want now. To kiss her temple, pull the covers over her, and let her drift off in my arms.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[lovelizards]

It all happened so fast.

One second Sebastian, Sam, and Abigail were all huddled around the table in his room, rolling up new characters for their game of Solarion Chronicles, and the next second his bedroom door had been thrown open by a stranger with slicked back hair and grey gloves.

"H - hey!" Sebastian jumped up, more angry than frightened, "What the hell? Who - who are -?"

"Just a friendly government agent. I'm looking for the boy called Sebastian." The stranger said, his tone sharp as a knife, and his cold eyes flicking between him and Sam.

"Actually, I'm Sebastian," Abigail said, leaning on Sebastian's shoulder with a sarcastic frown.

"I thought it was my turn to be Sebastian!" Sam insisted, as both he and Abigail crowded close around him. Sebastian would have been grateful, if he hadn't noticed the very real-looking gun in the stranger's hand.

"Cute," the man levelled his gun at the three of them.

Abigail froze, her hand gripping his sleeve. Sam let out a shocked breath, then raised a slow, protective arm in front of the two of them.

"Do...do you have a warrant?" Sebastian asked, his nerves making the words feel heavy and strange in his mouth. But, the man looked like some kind of government suit. He had an ID card hanging around his neck, and fancy shoes.

"Yeah!" Sam insisted, "This is messed up! You can't just walk into someone's house and threaten them at gun-point!"

But the man didn't respond.

He crossed the room in a few steps, and grabbed hold of Sebastian's arm. The guy was strong, stronger than he looked, and a manic sort of fear overcame Sebastian in that moment. He yelled, and fought, wrestling with the hand holding him.

Sam jumped on the guy, shouting something about calling the cops - though all of them knew that there were no cops local to the valley.

But Sam was barely an annoyance to the guy, and for one horrific second Sebastian thought was going to shoot at Sam.

Instead, he raised the gun up and cracked him in the head with the butt of the gun. The force of it made Sam's eyes roll to the back of his head, and sent him to the floor.

"Sam!" Abigail rushed over to him as Sebastian was getting dragged away, "You prick! What the fuck is your problem?!"

Again, nothing from the government agent.

He just dragged Sebastian bodily up the stairs, past his sobbing mom and a stony-faced Demetrius, and out into the cold evening in his socks.

Sebastian dug his feet into the dirt, he tried to trip the guy, he aimed punches and kicks anywhere he could, until eventually he got some kind of reaction.

The man let go of his arm for just a second, and then nailed him in the eye with a punch that nearly knocked him on his ass. The pain burst through his head, it burned and throbbed, and it took him a second to regain his balance.

"Quit making this hard, kid," the government agent instructed, "You're not the one I'm after, so - hey!

Sebastian didn't wait for him to finish, he bolted.

But he only made it a few rushed steps before the blast of a gunshot rang his head, and a searing pain ripped through his shoulder.

He stopped, tense, trembling, the fear of being faced with a real ass gun, something that could kill him in an instant - rather than something only from video games - slowly dawning on him.

The man's heavy footsteps came up behind him, and a strong hand turned him around; "You get it now? I don't want to hurt you, but I will. This'll be easier for you if you just comply. Now come on."

He grabbed the front of Sebastian's hoodie, and started pulling him stumbling along, up past the train tracks, towards the summit of the mountain.

Sebastian wasn't sure how much time had passed as he stood there, trembling from the cold and from the fear, near the sharp drop of the summit. Eventually, though, he heard running footsteps coming up the stairs and started.

The man adjusted his grip on Sebastian's hoodie, his leather gloves squeaking quietly, as the two of them watched Eve come sprinting into the summit clearing.

Wait, Eve?

Sebastian blinked.

"Eve?" He asked.

"Sebastian!" Eve cried. She was panting heavily, and clutching a crumpled piece of paper in her hands.

"Eve -Agh -!"

The government agent yanked on his hoodie, and then shoved him out further towards the stretch of open sky. His sock feet tried and failed to grip the loose dirt under him.

"We've been waiting for you, 3V3..."

Sebastian tried to catch his panicked breath. All he could do was grab hold of the man's arm for dear life, and try to stop his heart from beating right out of his chest.

"Eve!" He called, his voice breaking, "Be careful! This guy is dangerous!"

Eve's shoulders were raised, her hands hung at her sides but they were tensed into fists, the way they always were when she was trying to pretend she was fine.

"Let him go," she said, her voice struggling to stay level. She threw the paper to the ground, a letter of warning with a map to the summit, "You want me, you've got me. So let him go."

"How loyal, 3V3. And here I thought you were just toying with the kid, playing at being a human. You're full of surprises."

The man pulled a pair of expensive looking handcuffs from his pocket - awkwardly, trying to manage the gun at the same time. The cuffs were dull grey, and looked electronic, like something straight out of a sci-fi movie.

He tossed them into the dirt at Eve's feet, but said nothing else.

Eve stared down at them for only a second.

"E - Eve, wait - don't! Don't - " Sebastian tried to call, but he faltered and his teeth clicked together sharply as the gun was trained on him again.

"It's okay, Sebastian," Eve said, let out a long, trembling breath.

She picked the handcuffs up, and calmly secured them around her own wrists. The little LED lights lit up once they were on, and an electronic beep echoed out over the quiet of the summit.

"No...no, Eve..."

Eve looked up at the agent with a teary glare.

"Now let him go."

"Hah!" The agent gave one sharp tug on the front of Sebastian's hoodie, and then threw him forward onto the ground. He went sprawling, his legs like jelly, and landed hard on his hands and knees.

"Give me five minutes with him," Eve said, her voice low and kind of scary, serious in a way Sebastian had never heard her be before.

Even the agent faltered, then huffed a sigh.

"Two minutes."

Eve rushed over to Sebastian, dropping down onto her knees and reaching her cuffed hands out towards him. Sebastian had already pulled himself up, he held her arms, looking down at the handcuffs, trying to remove them.

"Eve - Eve, wait - we can figure this out -!"

"It's okay, Sebastian - listen to me -"

" - let - let me try to, just hold on -"

" - Sebastian. Sebastian!"

Eve stilled his frantic hands, clasping them in her own.

"I can't just let him take you..." Sebastian groaned, lowering his head so she couldn't see the infuriating shine of tears in his eyes.

Eve pulled him into a tight hug, her face buried in his hair, and her voice a broken whisper in his ear.

"Go to Rasmodius. The wizard - go find him in Cindersnap. Tell him what happened - tell him to contact Mr. Qi -"

"W - wait - wh - who? Eve, w -"

"Time's up." The agent called, his footsteps a threatening sound as he approached.

"Do what I said, Sebastian - it'll be okay - agh!"

Eve was hauled up by her wrists, and even though she didn't try to fight or get away, the agent handled her roughly. Sebastian felt the fire of fury in his gut, but shock and sorrow were too strong to overcome.

"Please just let her go!" He shouted, hating how much like a little kid he sounded and scrambling up to his feet as the agent started dragging Eve away.

"Stay right there, kid."

Sebastian stared down the barrel of the agent's gun, desperate to chase after them, but frozen in his spot.

"It's okay - it's okay Sebastian!" Eve kept saying, and then, "Take - take care of Reggie for me! And - and the farm animals! Please -!"

Sebastian opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything else, the agent pressed a finger to his ear, muttered something, and both he and Eve flickered out of sight - leaving him alone on the summit, with strange instructions to follow, and a terrible ache in his chest.

[hisfavegirl]

Endless Battle Of Love- Modern!Jacaerys Velaryon x Female.

Prologue, Chapter 1.

Word Count : 10.2k

Jacaerys Velaryon Masterlist.

House Of The Dragon Masterlist.

and also big thanks to @zaldritzosrose for let me using yours beautiful dividers 🫶🏻.

The first thing you feel is warmth. Not just the warmth of the sun spilling through the curtains, but something else.

Something solid.

Something strong.

Your lashes flutter open, blinking against the golden light filtering into the room. For a moment, you’re disoriented, your mind still heavy with sleep. But then— Your breath catches.

Jace.

He’s right there. His arms are still wrapped securely around you, his body solid and unmoving beneath you. Your head rests against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat thrumming softly beneath your ear.

You froze.

Shit.

Slowly, everything from last night crashes back into your mind. The nightmare. The panic. The way you broke down in his arms. The way he held you.

You swallow hard, your fingers curling against his shirt. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep on top of him, hadn’t meant to practically cling to him all night and yet… Jace hadn’t let go either. Even in sleep, his arms are still wrapped tightly around your waist, his body still curled around yours like he needed to hold you.

Your chest tightens.

You should move.

You should.

But for the first time in so long, you feel safe. Still, you can’t just stay like this. Carefully, you begin to pull back, your movements slow and deliberate his arms tighten. You freeze.

Your eyes snap up to his face, but Jace’s breathing is still even, his lips slightly parted. His brows furrow just slightly, as if instinctively aware that you’re trying to leave.

Your heart skips.

You hold your breath, waiting to see if he’ll wake up. Seconds pass. He doesn’t. Relief washes over you, and you very slowly try again, inching away just enough to slip from his grip. Almost there— "Where do you think you’re going?"

Your body jerks.

You snap your gaze up to find Jace’s very awake golden-brown eyes locked onto you, sharp and focused despite the sleep still clinging to him. You swallow. "I—I was just—"

"Leaving me?" His voice is still rough from sleep, but there’s something in his tone—something dangerous. "After using me as your personal pillow all night?"

Your face burns. "I didn’t—"

"Shhh."

Your breath hitches as one of his hands loosens from around your waist, coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch is gentle. Too gentle. Your heart pounds. "Jace—"

"Stay," he murmurs and the way he says it—the command laced beneath the softness— You don’t move.

You hesitate for only a second before slowly relaxing back into Jace’s embrace. Immediately, his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer.

This time, however, it’s different.

Last night, he had been careful—almost cautious—as if he was afraid of holding you too tightly. But now? Now, there’s a quiet possessiveness in the way he wraps around you.

His chin rests against the top of your head, his warmth completely surrounding you. You don’t know how long you lay like that, but eventually, you find your voice. "I should make us breakfast," you mumble against his chest. "You must be hungry."

Jace hums, his fingers idly tracing slow, lazy circles against your back. "That can wait," he murmurs. "Let’s stay like this a little longer."

Your stomach flutters.

"But it’s already late—"

"It’s our day off," Jace cuts in. "We don’t have any meetings, no schedules, nothing to do." You open your mouth to argue, but he shifts, nuzzling slightly into your hair.

"You’re comfortable," he says simply. "And I’m comfortable." Your breath catches. The words shouldn’t affect you the way they do, but there’s something about the way he says them—something firm.

Like a fact.

Like he’s already decided that you’re staying right here, in his arms, for as long as he wants.

Your fingers unconsciously clutch at his shirt, your heart hammering against your ribs. Jace notices. Of course he notices. You feel his lips curve slightly against your hair. "Relax, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice still husky with sleep. "You’re safe."

Your chest tightens.

You don’t know if he’s talking about last night—about what happened with your ex, about the nightmare that followed— Or if he’s talking about himself. Either way, you let out a slow, shaky breath, closing your eyes and for the first time in a long time… You let yourself believe him.

Your entire body freezes as the sound of the door creaking open reaches your ears. You barely have time to react before—

"Well, well, well."

Shit.

Your eyes snap toward the doorway, where Cregan Stark stands with his arms crossed, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. You don’t know what’s worse—the way his eyes widen slightly at the sight of you practically curled into Jace’s chest, or the way his lips twitch like he’s about to burst into laughter.

You panic.

Your hands fly to your thighs, hastily tugging down the hem of Jace’s oversized shirt, which had ridden up sometime during the night.

Cregan notices.

His grin widens.

"Ohhh, this is interesting—" He doesn’t get to finish. Because suddenly, a pillow flies across the room— And smacks him right in the face.

"Get the fuck out, Cregan!" Jace growls, his voice still rough with sleep. Cregan stumbles back slightly from the impact, but it does nothing to wipe the amusement off his face. "What? I just came to—" Another pillow hurtles toward him.

"Out!" Cregan dodges this time, laughing loudly as he raises his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright! No need to get violent, Chairman Velaryon!"

Your face is on fire.

Jace is still seething beside you, his arm tightening slightly around your waist as if trying to shield you from Cregan’s teasing gaze.

"You have five seconds to leave before I throw something heavier," Jace warns, his tone deadly. Cregan chuckles, stepping back into the hallway. "Relax, man. I just wanted to check if you were coming to the office today—"

"We’re not." Jace snaps. "Now go." Cregan smirks, his eyes flickering toward you one last time before he salutes playfully. "Got it, boss."

And with that, he disappears, the door clicking shut behind him. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, your hands still clutching at the hem of Jace’s shirt. Silence stretches between you.

Then—

"Are you really throwing pillows at people now?" you mumble, your voice slightly muffled as you press your hands over your burning face.

Jace scoffs, shifting slightly beneath you. "He deserved it."

You peek at him through your fingers. "He’s your best friend."

"He was about to become my dead best friend," Jace mutters darkly. "He saw you like this."

You blink. "Like… what?"

His golden-brown eyes flicker to your thighs— To the way you’re still half-draped over him, to the way his shirt barely covers you. Your breath hitches. Jace swallows hard. His jaw clenches and for a split second— Something dark flickers behind his gaze.

Then— "Nothing," he says, forcing himself to look away. "Just go back to sleep."

You hesitate. "Jace—"

"Go back to sleep," he repeats, this time softer and you don’t know why, but something about the way he says it makes your heart stutter. So you don’t argue. You let yourself relax against him once more, pressing your face into his chest. His heartbeat is faster now and for the first time— You wonder if it’s because of you.

Jace steps out of the bedroom quietly, careful not to wake you. His fingers linger on the doorknob for a second longer than necessary before he finally sighs and makes his way downstairs.

He finds Cregan in the living room, lazily sprawled on the couch with a cup of coffee in his hand. The moment Cregan sees him, he grins.

"So," Cregan drawls, setting his coffee down. "How was sleeping with your secretary?" Jace doesn't even hesitate. He grabs a pillow from the couch and hurls it straight at Cregan’s face.

"Fuck off," Jace mutters, running a hand through his disheveled curls.

Cregan just laughs, unfazed. "Come on, you can’t blame me! I walked in, and she was practically wrapped around you like some clingy little thing. You looked—"

"Cregan." Jace’s voice is sharp. Cregan stops, eyeing him carefully and then— His smirk falters. Jace exhales roughly, collapsing onto the couch across from him. "It’s not like that," he mutters, rubbing his temples. "Last night was… a lot."

Cregan leans forward. "Talk to me."*

Jace is silent for a moment. Then, without looking up, he speaks. "Her fiancé— no, her ex—was blackmailing her."

Cregan’s expression shifts immediately. "What?"

"That bastard recorded her—" Jace's jaw clenches. "—without her knowing. That’s why she stayed with him. He trapped her."

Cregan swears under his breath. "That sick fuck—"

"It’s handled," Jace cuts in. "Aemond and Aegon took care of it." Cregan stares at him. "...Took care of it how?" Jace doesn’t answer.

Cregan sighs. "Right. I probably don’t wanna know."

Silence stretches between them. Jace leans back, his head tilting up toward the ceiling. "She had a nightmare last night."

Cregan watches him carefully. "And?"

Jace’s fingers twitch against his knee. "And I—" He exhales sharply. "—I nearly lost it."

Cregan raises an eyebrow. "Define ‘lost it’."

Jace doesn’t answer right away. His mind replays the way you had curled into him last night, the way your body had trembled against his. The way you had moaned in that goddamn video—

Jace inhales sharply, shaking his head. "She was crying in her sleep, Cregan." His voice is tight. "She was whimpering like she was still stuck there—like he was still touching her. I just—" His hands clench into fists. "I wanted to kill him."

Cregan’s brows furrow slightly. "Jace—"

"And then," Jace continues, his voice almost a growl, "when she woke up? She looked at me like I was the only thing keeping her safe." Cregan stays silent, watching his friend with knowing eyes.

Jace exhales roughly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "I—" He pauses, his fingers threading through his curls. "I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me."

Cregan lets out a small chuckle. "Oh, I do."

Jace glares at him. "Cregan—"

"You’re obsessed with her," Cregan states simply. "And you have been for a while."

Jace freezes.

Cregan grins. "Come on, man. You think I haven’t noticed? You’ve been looking at her like she’s the only woman in the world since day one."

Jace grits his teeth. "I was just—"

"Protecting her?" Cregan cuts in, raising an eyebrow. "Sure. Keep telling yourself that, boss."

Jace scowls. "Go to hell."

Cregan only laughs. "Already on my way, brother. But you? You're screwed." Jace groans, leaning back against the couch and running a hand down his face. And for the first time, he wonders if Cregan is right.

Jace and Cregan were still speaking in hushed tones, their voices low to avoid waking you. "So, what’s your plan now?" Cregan asked, sipping his coffee. "You can't just keep her locked in here forever, you know."

Jace ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. "She needs time. She just went through hell. I’m not throwing her back into the office like nothing happened."

"And after that?" Cregan pressed. "You think she’s just gonna act like this whole thing never happened? You think you can go back to just being her boss?"

Jace didn’t respond right away. Instead, he stared at the coffee in his hands, his grip tightening slightly around the mug. Cregan sighed. "Yeah. That’s what I thought."

Upstairs, you had already woken up. The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You had taken a shower, letting the hot water wash away the lingering fear and exhaustion from last night.

Now, standing in front of Jace’s wardrobe, you hesitated before reaching for something to wear. The only thing available was his clothes. You had worn his oversized t-shirt earlier, but this time, you decided to put on one of his white button-up shirts.

The fabric was soft against your skin, the scent of Jace lingering in the material. It was big on you—too big—but at least it covered your body properly. Taking a deep breath, you stepped out of the room, making your way downstairs. As you entered the living room, both men turned toward you.

Jace's gaze darkened immediately. His eyes swept over you—his shirt hanging loosely over your frame, the way the collar dipped slightly, revealing just a hint of your collarbone. You swallowed, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his intense stare.

"Morning," you said softly.

Cregan smirked. "Well, look who’s finally up."

You walked closer, hesitating for a moment before taking a seat on the couch. "How are you feeling?" Jace asked, his voice softer now.

You exhaled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Better," you admitted. "Thank you… for last night."

Jace nodded, his gaze still fixed on you. "You don’t have to thank me."

Cregan leaned back in his chair. "Alright, I feel like I’m intruding on something here," he teased. "Maybe I should go."

"You should," Jace said flatly.

Cregan let out a laugh. "Damn. Not even subtle about it."

You shook your head, hiding a small smile. Jace stood up and walked to the kitchen. "You should eat something," he said, glancing at you over his shoulder. "Come on, I’ll make you breakfast."

You blinked. "You can cook?"

"I’m not completely useless," Jace muttered.

Cregan chuckled. "Debatable."

Jace shot him a glare before disappearing into the kitchen. You turned to Cregan, curiosity getting the better of you. "What were you two talking about before I came down?"

Cregan smirked. "Oh, you know. Just about how obsessed Jace is with you."

Your breath hitched slightly. "He’s not obsessed with me," you said, but even you weren’t sure if you believed it.

Cregan raised an eyebrow. "Right. Sure."

You hesitated, your fingers playing with the hem of Jace’s shirt. "He’s just being… protective."

Cregan leaned forward slightly. "Listen, sweetheart. I’ve known Jace for a long time. And I’ve never seen him act this way over anyone. Ever."

Your heart skipped a beat. Cregan grinned. "You might not see it yet, but trust me… he’s completely gone for you."

Before you could say anything, Jace reappeared with a plate of food. "What the hell are you telling her?"

Cregan only smirked. "Nothing you wouldn’t admit to yourself eventually."

Jace shot him a warning look before turning his attention to you. "Come eat."

You nodded, taking the plate from him. As you did, your fingers brushed against his. The contact was brief, but it sent a small shiver up your spine. Jace noticed. His eyes flicked to yours, something unreadable in his expression. Cregan stretched, standing up. "Alright, I’m out. You two lovebirds enjoy breakfast."

"Cregan," Jace warned.

"Later," Cregan said with a grin before walking out.

The door shut behind him, leaving you alone with Jace. You cleared your throat, picking up a fork. "So… what’s the plan for today?"

Jace leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "We’re staying in. You need to rest."

You frowned. "Jace, I can’t just—"

"You can," he interrupted. "And you will."

You huffed, setting your fork down. "You’re acting like I’m fragile."

Jace’s jaw tightened. "You are fragile. After everything that happened, you need time to recover."

Your gaze softened. "Jace…"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I just… I don’t want you to force yourself to act like everything’s okay when it’s not."

Your heart ached at his words. He wasn’t just your boss—he was someone who genuinely cared and maybe, just maybe, Cregan was right. Maybe Jace cared too much.

Jace wasn’t paying attention to the TV. Not even a little.

His eyes were on you—the way your lips curved into a soft smile, the way you hugged your knees to your chest, completely at ease in his oversized shirt. You were laughing at something on the screen, completely unaware of the thoughts racing through his head.

He never imagined this scenario would actually happen. You, in his home. Wearing his clothes. Sleeping in his bed.

Well… maybe he had imagined it once or twice. Late at night. Before falling asleep. But not like this. Not with you still haunted by the memory of him. Jace exhaled sharply, leaning back against the couch. You turned your head slightly, noticing his expression. "Jace?"

"Hm?"

"You’re staring."

He blinked, caught off guard. "Am I?"

You rolled your eyes, turning back to the screen. "You’re acting weird today."

"Weird how?"

"I don’t know… distracted?" You glanced at him again. "Are you okay?"

Jace hesitated. He could lie, brush it off. But something in your voice made him pause. "Yeah," he said, voice lower than usual. "I’m fine."

You didn’t seem convinced, but you didn’t press further. Instead, you turned your attention back to the show.

A comfortable silence settled between you.

But Jace couldn’t focus.

His mind was stuck on the way you looked in his shirt, the way you felt curled up against him last night, how your breath had tickled his neck as you slept.

And worse, his mind kept drifting back to that damn video. The raw panic in your voice. The way you had been used. Jace clenched his jaw, gripping the edge of the couch. The thought of him—your ex—touching you, forcing you, recording you without your consent—

"Jace?"

Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

You were looking at him with concern now, your brows slightly furrowed. "Are you sure you’re okay?" He exhaled through his nose, forcing his body to relax. "Yeah."

You stared at him for a long moment, then shifted closer. "Do you want to talk about it?" Jace scoffed. "Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?"

"Maybe," you admitted. "But right now, I feel like you’re the one who needs to talk."

Jace let out a dry chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "It’s nothing. Just… thinking."

"About?"

"About what happened. About him." His expression darkened. "And what I should’ve done sooner."

You swallowed. "Jace… it’s over now. He can’t hurt me anymore."

"Doesn’t mean I don’t want to hurt him." His voice was sharp, filled with something dangerous. You reached out, hesitating slightly before resting a hand on his arm. "Don’t do anything reckless. Please."

Jace exhaled slowly. "I won’t."

You tilted your head. "Liar."

That made him smirk, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

"I just hate that I couldn’t protect you sooner," he admitted. "That I didn’t notice."

Your chest tightened. "Jace, none of this was your fault."

"Maybe not. But it doesn’t change the fact that I want to make sure nothing like this ever happens again." His hand lifted, almost unconsciously, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. His fingers lingered against your cheek for a second too long before he pulled away. "And that means keeping you close."

Your breath hitched slightly. "How close?"

Jace’s blue eyes darkened. "Close enough that no one else gets to touch you."

A shiver ran down your spine.

"Jace…"

"I know." His voice was rough, low. "I know I shouldn’t be saying this. But after last night… after knowing what he did to you—" He stopped himself, exhaling sharply. "I can’t stand the thought of you with anyone else."

Your heart pounded.

This was Jace—your boss. Your obsessive, overprotective boss who had been crossing lines ever since that night and yet… You weren’t stopping him.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. "Jace… I just need time."

He stayed silent, watching you carefully. "I’m still trying to deal with everything. The nightmares, the fear…" You swallowed hard. "I can’t rush into something when I’m still trying to put myself back together."

Jace’s jaw clenched slightly, but then, to your relief, he nodded. "I get it," he said, voice softer than before. "I won’t push you."

You felt some of the tension in your chest loosen. "Thank you."

Jace exhaled, running a hand through his curls. "But just so we’re clear—" His gaze locked onto yours. "I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait as long as you need."

A warmth spread through you at his words, at the sincerity in his expression. "That means a lot to me, Jace."

He gave you a small smile. "Good."* Then, as if trying to shift the mood, he glanced at his watch. "Anyway, we should probably head out soon."

You blinked. "Head out?"

"Yeah. Shopping."

"Shopping?"

"For clothes." You frowned slightly. "Jace, I have clothes."*

"Do you?" He smirked, eyeing the oversized shirt you were still wearing. "Because all I’ve seen you wear for the past day is my stuff."

Your face burned. "That’s because I didn’t have anything else!"

"Exactly."

You rolled your eyes. "I can just go home and grab some of my own clothes."

Jace’s expression darkened instantly. "You’re not going back there."

Your stomach twisted. "Jace—"

"No." His voice was firm. You wanted to argue, but the look in his eyes told you it was useless. You sighed. "Fine. But I don’t need anything fancy. Just something simple."

Jace smirked. "Yeah, yeah. We’ll see." Something about the way he said it made you nervous.

The store was filled with racks of clothes that seemed perfectly chosen for the season, with soft lighting and music playing in the background. But Your fingers froze on the fabric of the dress you were holding. The voice was unmistakable, sending an unpleasant chill down your spine.

Slowly, you turned, and your stomach twisted when your gaze landed on him—one of his friends. His smirk was dripping with malice as he looked between you and Jace, eyes gleaming with sick amusement.

"So it’s true," he sneered, arms crossed. "You really are just a cheap slut who jumps into another man’s bed the second things get hard."*

You felt like you had been punched in the gut.

Jace, who had been flipping through a rack of clothes beside you, stilled. His entire posture changed in an instant—his shoulders tensed, his jaw clenched, and when he turned to look at the man, his eyes were dark with fury.

"What did you just say?" Jace’s voice was low, controlled, but there was an edge of pure danger underneath.

The guy scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I mean, look at her." He gestured toward you mockingly. "Still parading around in another man’s shirt like some desperate little thing. You didn’t even try to pretend, did you? No wonder—"

The words were cut off with a sharp crack.

You barely registered what had happened before the man stumbled back, clutching his face in shock. Jace stood in front of you now, his fist still clenched, his breathing heavy.

"Say one more word," Jace’s voice was calm—too calm. "I fucking dare you."

The man’s face twisted in anger. "You think you can—"

Jace grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him close until they were nearly nose to nose. "You and your pathetic little friends think you can intimidate her?" His voice dropped lower, his grip tightening. "Do you have any idea who you’re messing with?"

The man swallowed hard, his earlier arrogance faltering under Jace’s deadly gaze. "Jace," you whispered, placing a hesitant hand on his arm. "Let him go."

Jace didn’t move for a long moment, his chest rising and falling in barely contained rage. But then, with a disgusted scoff, he shoved the man back.

"Get the fuck out of here before I break your fucking jaw," Jace growled.

The man hesitated only for a second before scrambling to his feet and practically running out of the store. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Jace turned to you, his expression still stormy. "Are you okay?"

You nodded slowly, though your hands were still shaking. "Yeah. I just… I wasn’t expecting that."*

Jace exhaled sharply, running a hand through his curls. "He won’t come near you again."* His voice was firm, his eyes locking onto yours. "None of them will."

You swallowed. "Jace…"

"Come here," he murmured, reaching for you. You didn’t hesitate. You stepped into his arms, letting his warmth envelop you as he held you close.

Jace froze.

Your whispered confession sent ice through his veins, his grip on you tightening unconsciously. His entire body tensed as the words replayed in his head, as if his mind was refusing to believe what he had just heard.

You felt his arms tremble slightly around you.

"What did you just say?" His voice was barely above a whisper, but the rage simmering beneath it was unmistakable.

You swallowed, your fingers clutching onto the fabric of his shirt. "They… sometimes they would take turns," you whispered again, your voice almost too soft to be heard. "I didn’t know how to stop them. I thought if I just—if I just stayed quiet, it would be over faster."

Jace’s breath turned ragged, his heartbeat pounding against your ear where your head rested against his chest.

"I’ll kill them."* The words were spoken so softly, so calmly, yet they dripped with pure, unfiltered hatred. "I swear to god, I’ll kill them."

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him. His jaw was clenched so tightly it looked like it might break. His hands, still gripping you, were shaking. His eyes—those usually warm brown eyes—were dark, hollow, filled with an emotion so raw it scared you.

"Jace," you whispered, lifting a hand to touch his cheek. "I’ll be okay… as long as you’re with me."

His breath hitched at your words. His entire body seemed to be at war with itself—rage battling against the desperate need to protect you, to comfort you, to make sure you never had to feel that kind of fear again.

"You don’t understand," he said, voice shaking. "This isn’t something I can just let go, sweetheart. They don’t get to walk away after what they did to you."

You shook your head gently, your fingers tracing along his jaw. "I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret."

"The only thing I’ll regret is not making them suffer enough."

Your heart ached at his words. You knew Jace was not a violent man by nature, but you also knew that there was nothing he wouldn’t do for the people he cared about. And right now, you were at the center of his entire world.

You leaned up slightly, pressing your forehead against his. "I just need you," you whispered, closing your eyes. "I need you to be here. That’s enough for me."

Jace exhaled shakily, his hands slowly moving up your back, holding you as if you were the most fragile thing in the world.

"I’m here," he murmured. "I’m not going anywhere." For the first time in a long, long time, you believed it.

Jace carefully put the car into park and turned off the engine. The drive home had been quiet, aside from the soft sound of your breathing as you slept. You looked peaceful now, curled up slightly in your seat, your new clothes in a shopping bag at your feet. But all Jace could hear in his head were your words from earlier.

"They sometimes took turns."

He gritted his teeth, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. His jaw clenched so hard that it ached. The rage inside him had been simmering all day, barely contained beneath the surface, but he forced himself to stay calm. This wasn’t about him. This wasn’t about his anger. This was about you. And you needed rest, not the weight of his fury.

Jace exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head before turning to you.

"Sweetheart," he murmured softly, reaching over to brush his fingers gently against your cheek. "We’re home." You didn’t stir.

Jace huffed out a small, exasperated laugh, but there was nothing but warmth in his gaze as he looked at you. He hesitated for a moment before carefully undoing your seatbelt. Then, with an ease that only came naturally to him, he slid his arms underneath you and lifted you into his arms.

You barely even reacted, only letting out a soft sigh as you instinctively curled into his chest.

Jace swallowed thickly.

Holding you like this—so close, so trusting—made his protective instincts flare even more. He had no idea how you had survived everything you had gone through, how you were still standing, still smiling despite everything. But you shouldn’t have had to survive it and that was something Jace would never forgive.

He walked into the house with steady steps, kicking the door shut behind him. The house was dimly lit, silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioning. He carried you upstairs, straight to his bedroom, lowering you gently onto the bed.

You mumbled something incoherent in your sleep, shifting slightly, but didn’t wake.

Jace let out a breath, brushing a few stray strands of hair from your face. His fingers lingered against your cheek before he forced himself to pull away. He stepped back, running a hand through his hair, his mind still clouded with thoughts of your past.

Jace knew what needed to be done. He pulled out his phone, walking toward the balcony to make a call. The night air was cool against his skin, but his blood was still boiling. He pressed the phone to his ear and waited for the familiar voice on the other end.

"Jace," Aemond’s voice was sharp, knowing. "Tell me."

"It’s worse than we thought," Jace said, his voice low, dangerous. "Much worse." There was silence for a moment. Then Aemond sighed. "I’ll handle it."

"No." Jace’s grip on his phone tightened. "I want to be there."*

"Jace—"

"I need to be there," Jace snapped. "You don’t understand. They didn’t just hurt her, Aemond. They destroyed her. I want them to see my face before they beg for their lives."

Aemond was quiet again. Then, finally, "I’ll send you the details."* Jace ended the call and took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a brief moment. When he turned back to look at you, still fast asleep on his bed, his expression softened. He would take care of this. For you. For everything they had done to you.

Jace was focused on chopping vegetables when the familiar sound of heels clicking against the floor made him pause. He looked up just in time to see his mother, Rhaenyra, stepping into the kitchen, her sharp eyes scanning the space before landing on him.

"Cooking, are we?" she mused, arching an eyebrow. "That’s new." Jace sighed, setting the knife down. "Mother." He wiped his hands on a kitchen towel before turning to face her fully. "Thanks for coming."*

Rhaenyra gave him a knowing look, removing her coat and draping it over a chair. "You said it was important."*

Jace nodded, glancing toward the stairs before lowering his voice. "She’s asleep upstairs."*

Rhaenyra tilted her head slightly. "She?"

"Her name is—" Jace hesitated, then shook his head with a small chuckle. "I guess you’ll meet her soon enough."

Rhaenyra’s lips curled into a small smirk. "You’ve never invited me over to meet a woman before. Should I be flattered?"

Jace rolled his eyes. "It’s not like that. She…" He trailed off, running a hand through his hair before exhaling. "She’s been through hell, Mother. Worse than you can imagine."*

That made Rhaenyra pause. The teasing glint in her eyes faded slightly, replaced by something more serious. "Tell me."*

Jace clenched his jaw, staring at the cutting board for a moment before speaking. "She was trapped in an engagement with a bastard who abused her." His fingers curled into fists. "And not just him. His friends. They took turns—"

Rhaenyra inhaled sharply. "God."

"And he had leverage over her." Jace’s voice was tight, controlled rage lacing every word. "A video. He was threatening to release it if she left him."

Rhaenyra’s expression darkened, her shoulders tensing. "Where is he now?"

"Handled." Jace didn’t elaborate, and Rhaenyra didn’t ask. She knew what that meant. "But she’s still scared, Mother. I can’t leave her alone, not even for a second."

"And yet, you’re leaving tonight."* Rhaenyra’s tone was pointed. "Why?"

Jace hesitated, but there was no point in hiding it from her. "Because I need to make sure this never happens again. To her, or to anyone else."

Rhaenyra watched him for a long moment. Then, slowly, she nodded. "You’re your father’s son," she murmured. "Too much of him, sometimes."

Jace swallowed hard. His father. A man of action, not words. A protector. "Stay with her tonight," Jace said after a pause. "She trusts me, but I don’t want her to be alone."

Rhaenyra softened slightly, stepping forward to place a hand on his cheek. "Of course I’ll stay."

Jace exhaled, nodding. "Thank you."

Rhaenyra smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Go do what you have to do. But Jace…" She narrowed her gaze. "Come back to her in one piece."

Jace smirked slightly. "I will."

At that moment, they heard soft footsteps descending the stairs. Jace turned just as you appeared in the doorway, rubbing your eyes sleepily, still wearing his oversized shirt. You blinked in confusion when you saw Rhaenyra. "Oh…" Your voice was still groggy. "We have a guest?"

Jace smiled and gestured to his mother. "Yeah. This is my mother, Rhaenyra."

Rhaenyra stepped forward, her gaze softening. "You must be the woman my son can’t stop thinking about."

Your eyes widened slightly, glancing at Jace, who groaned. "Mother."

Rhaenyra only smirked. "Come, sit. Jace was cooking something, though whether it’s edible remains to be seen." Jace rolled his eyes, and you let out a small laugh. For the first time in a long time, things felt… light. Safe. Even if you didn’t know what was coming next.

You frowned slightly as you watched Jace grab his leather jacket from the chair, sliding it over his shoulders with practiced ease. There was something about the way he moved—controlled, purposeful, but also… tense. Like he was bracing himself for something.

"Where are you going?" you asked, your arms crossing over your chest.

Jace glanced at you briefly, then at his mother, Rhaenyra, who was watching the exchange silently from her seat. He exhaled through his nose, adjusting the sleeves of his jacket. "I just have to take care of something."

You didn’t like that answer. "Take care of what?"

"It’s nothing you need to worry about." His voice was even, calm, but you could tell he was deflecting.

"That’s not an answer, Jace." You stepped closer to him, tilting your head. "Why won’t you just tell me?"

Jace clenched his jaw slightly, his hands tightening at his sides. "Because it’s not something you should be involved in."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. "Is this about—" You hesitated, your voice lowering. "—him?"

Jace didn’t respond right away. Instead, he looked down, inhaling deeply before meeting your gaze again. "I just need to make sure this is over."

Something in his tone sent a chill down your spine. You weren’t naïve—you knew what kind of power Jace had, what kind of family he belonged to. His mother, Rhaenyra, and her brothers, Aemond and Aegon, weren’t just businessmen. They weren’t just wealthy elites. They were dangerous. And now, you were starting to realize just how far Jace was willing to go for you.

"Jace, you don’t have to—"

"Yes, I do." His voice was firm, unwavering. "I won’t let him haunt you anymore."

You swallowed hard. "But what if something happens to you?"

For the first time that night, Jace’s expression softened. He stepped closer, reaching up to brush his fingers against your cheek. "Nothing will happen to me," he murmured. "I promise."

You hated this. Hated that he was walking into something dangerous for you. Hated that you felt powerless to stop him. "Please don’t go." Your voice was barely a whisper. Jace sighed, his thumb tracing slow circles against your cheek. "I have to."

You clenched your fists, feeling frustration and fear twist in your chest. "Then take me with you."

Rhaenyra, who had been silent until now, let out a small chuckle. "That won’t be happening."

You turned toward her, frowning. "Why not?"

"Because," she said smoothly, standing up and adjusting the rings on her fingers, "you’ll be staying with me tonight. And I don’t take no for an answer."

You felt your frustration build, but Jace gently squeezed your wrist, drawing your attention back to him. "Stay here," he urged softly. "Please. Just for tonight."

You hated this. But you hated the thought of him walking away even more. Reluctantly, you nodded. "Fine."

Jace smiled slightly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before stepping back. "I’ll be back soon."

You watched as he walked out the door, the sound of his footsteps fading into the night. Something told you that when he returned… things wouldn’t be the same.

Jace stepped out of his car, his blood running hot as he took in the sight before him. Rows of black SUVs lined the abandoned warehouse, their tinted windows hiding the men inside. He recognized them instantly—Aemond’s and Aegon’s people. Loyal. Efficient. Ruthless.

His jaw clenched as he stalked toward the entrance, barely sparing a glance at the two men standing guard. They nodded in acknowledgment, stepping aside to let him through without a word. The heavy metal door groaned as he pushed it open, revealing the dimly lit interior of the warehouse.

The scent of blood and sweat hit him first. The muffled groans followed.

Aegon was the first person he saw. He leaned casually against a wooden crate, a cigarette dangling between his fingers, looking entirely at ease. His hair was slightly disheveled, his expensive suit speckled with something dark—blood, most likely.

"Took you long enough," Aegon drawled, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "We were starting to have fun without you."

Jace barely acknowledged him, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on the group of men in the center.

They were barely recognizable. Bruised. Bloodied. Tied to chairs. Some slumped over, barely conscious. Aemond stood among them, pristine as always, his single blue eye gleaming under the dim light. He held a bloodied knife in his gloved hand, turning it over between his fingers with a bored expression.

"You’re late," Aemond remarked, his voice smooth as silk. "We were just getting started."

Jace ignored the chill that ran down his spine. He had grown up around violence, around men like Aegon and Aemond, but he had never let himself sink into it the way they had. Yet tonight… tonight felt different.

His gaze landed on your ex-fiancé—the man who had haunted you for so long. The man who had tormented you. Jace’s hands curled into fists. "Untie him."*

Aemond arched a brow, but didn’t question it. He simply nodded toward one of his men, who stepped forward and cut the ropes binding the bastard to the chair.

Your ex slumped forward, coughing, spitting blood onto the concrete floor. When he looked up and saw Jace, he managed a weak, bitter laugh. "Ah… look who it is. The fucking knight in shining armor."

Jace didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. He simply stepped forward—one, two, three paces—before swinging his fist.

A sickening crack echoed through the warehouse as his knuckles connected with your ex’s jaw. The man let out a strangled noise, his head snapping to the side, but Jace didn’t stop. He grabbed him by the collar, hauling him up before slamming him back down onto the chair.

"You think you can do whatever you want and get away with it?" Jace’s voice was eerily calm, but the fury burning in his eyes was anything but. "You think you can hurt her and just walk away?"

Your ex spat out more blood, grinning through crimson-stained teeth. "What’s the matter, boss? Jealous that you can't fuck her like i did?"

Jace punched him again. Harder.

"She begged," the bastard continued, his voice rasping. "She moaned. She fucking loved it—"

Jace saw red.

The next thing he knew, he was on top of him, his fists colliding over and over with his face, his ribs, his gut. The bastard coughed and wheezed, but Jace didn’t stop.

"Say her name," he growled between blows. "Say her name, you coward."

Your ex-fiancé choked, struggling for air, but Jace didn’t let up. His knuckles split, blood—his or the bastard’s, he didn’t know—dripped onto the concrete.

"Enough," Aemond’s voice finally cut through the chaos.

Jace barely registered the hand gripping his shoulder, pulling him back. His breath came in ragged gasps, his vision blurred with fury. "He’s not worth dirtying your hands over," Aemond murmured, his voice almost amused. "We’ll handle the rest."

Jace hesitated, his entire body trembling. He wanted to keep going. He wanted to make sure this bastard never had the chance to hurt you—or anyone—again.

But Aemond was right.

Jace let out a sharp breath, pushing himself to his feet. He took one last look at the man bleeding out beneath him. "If I ever hear your name again… if I ever see you near her…" He leaned in, his voice deadly quiet. "You won’t be so lucky next time."*

Jace straightened, wiping the blood from his split knuckles onto his pants before turning away. Aegon chuckled, taking another drag of his cigarette. "Didn’t think you had it in you, nephew."

Jace wiped the blood from his knuckles, his breath still ragged as he stepped back. His heart pounded against his ribs, not from exertion, but from the raw fury still coursing through his veins. He wanted to keep going. He wanted to make them feel even an ounce of the pain they had inflicted on you. But then he remembered—this isn’t about me. It’s about her.

He turned, his gaze locking onto Aemond and Aegon, who watched him with knowing eyes. Aegon still had that smirk on his lips, but it had lost its usual arrogance. Aemond, ever the unreadable one, simply tilted his head slightly, studying Jace like he was something new. Something unfamiliar.

Jace exhaled sharply before speaking, his voice eerily calm but laced with something dark. "She told me something today."

Aegon raised an eyebrow, but Aemond didn’t move.

"She told me how they took turns," Jace continued, his fists clenching again. "How they held her down. How they laughed. How they made her beg."

Aegon’s smirk disappeared entirely. Aemond’s expression darkened.

Jace took a slow, measured step forward, his gaze never leaving theirs. "And you know what she said after that?" His voice wavered, but it wasn’t with weakness—it was with restrained rage. "She told me she would be okay… as long as I was there."*

Silence.

The air in the warehouse shifted, turning heavy, suffocating. Aegon and Aemond weren’t easily shaken, but now? Now they looked like statues, frozen in place, their expressions unreadable.

Because they knew.

They knew what those words meant.

Jace let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "She was trembling, sobbing into my chest, and she still had the strength to tell me she would be okay. But I saw it—I saw how broken she was. I heard it in her voice. I felt it in the way she clung to me."*

He looked down at his bloodied hands, disgusted. "And I just stood there, helpless, while she suffered alone for so long."*

Aemond’s jaw tensed, and Aegon muttered a curse under his breath, running a hand through his hair.

Jace finally looked back at them, his eyes colder than they had ever been. "So tell me—tell me why I shouldn’t rip them apart with my own hands."*

Aemond was the one who answered, his voice low, controlled. "Because that’s not your job, Jacaerys."* His eye flicked toward the barely breathing men on the floor. "It’s ours."*

Jace clenched his jaw, but he knew Aemond was right. He didn’t belong in this world, not like they did. But for you? He would burn everything down.

Aegon sighed, flicking his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. "We’ll take care of it," he said, his tone surprisingly serious. "They’ll never touch her again. They won’t even exist when we’re done."

Jace stood still, his breathing still uneven as he watched Aemond crouch down in front of your ex-fiancé, pressing the cold barrel of his gun against the man’s temple. The pathetic excuse of a man whimpered, his body trembling violently. Blood dripped from his swollen lip, mixing with the sweat on his face.

Aemond tilted his head, his single eye glowing with something far more dangerous than rage—it was amusement. Contempt. "You know," he started, his voice soft, eerily calm, "I’ve done many things in my life. I’ve killed men. I’ve burned down businesses. I’ve taken apart people, piece by piece. But you?" A small, humorless smirk pulled at his lips. "You disgust me."*

The man whimpered, shaking his head frantically. "P-please—"

"Please?" Aemond echoed mockingly. "Oh, that’s rich. Did she beg you? Did she cry? Did she plead for mercy?" His voice dropped lower, sharp as a blade. "And what did you do? Laugh? Tell her to be a good girl?"

Jace clenched his fists so tightly his nails dug into his palms. He wanted to tear the man apart. He wanted to make him suffer. But he had done his part. This was Aemond and Aegon’s world now.

Aemond pressed the gun harder against the man’s forehead, making him flinch. "You see, we have rules," he continued, his voice laced with venom. "We kill. We manipulate. We control. But we don’t do what you did." His eye darkened, his lips curling in disgust. "We don’t prey on the weak. We don’t break something so completely that it may never heal."

The man let out a choked sob, his body jerking as he tried to move away, but Aegon was behind him, pushing him back down with a forceful grip. "You don’t deserve an easy death," Aegon muttered, his usual arrogance replaced with something cold.

Jace turned away, inhaling deeply through his nose. "Make it slow," he murmured. "Make him feel every second of it." Aemond chuckled darkly, finally pulling the safety off his gun. "Oh, don't worry, nephew." His voice was smooth, almost gentle. "We intend to."

Jace didn’t stay to watch. He had no interest in what happened next. His mind was already back with you. With your soft voice, your trembling hands, your fragile smile. You had told him you would be okay as long as he was by your sidea and he had promised himself—no one would ever hurt you again.

Jace’s breath hitched, his heart pounding violently in his chest. His fingers curled into fists, his nails digging into his palms so hard they nearly broke skin. He turned swiftly, his eyes burning with fury as he stalked toward the man who had spoken.

"What did you just say?" His voice was dangerously low, a sharp contrast to the sheer rage radiating off him.

The bastard smirked, lips curling in amusement. "You heard me," he sneered. "There’s more. Some where she was fully woke up... and some where she wasn’t."

Aemond’s grip on his gun tightened. Even Aegon, who usually had a twisted sense of humor, had gone still, his expression unreadable.

Jace lunged, grabbing the man by his shirt and yanking him so close their noses nearly touched. "Where?" he growled, his breath hot and heavy. "Where are the videos stored?"

The man chuckled, completely unfazed by the sheer malice in Jace’s tone. "You think I’d tell you?" he taunted. "It doesn’t matter anyway. The upload is already set. Three hours from now, and the whole world will see just how much of a whore she really is."*

Something inside Jace snapped. Without thinking, he pulled back his fist and slammed it into the man’s face with all the strength he had. The impact sent a sickening crack through the air, blood spraying as the man’s head jerked to the side.

"Talk," Jace hissed, his voice a whisper of pure, unfiltered rage. "Tell me where it is, or I swear on my life, I will make you wish you were dead."*

Aemond stepped forward, placing a firm hand on Jace’s shoulder. "Give me five minutes," he murmured, his voice eerily calm. "He’ll talk."*

Jace didn’t hesitate. He let go, stepping back as Aemond crouched in front of the bleeding man.

"Now, now " Aemond said, adjusting his grip on his gun, "let’s play a game. Every time you lie, I take something from you."

The man’s face paled, his smirk faltering for the first time. "Y-you wouldn’t—"

Aemond fired.

The room echoed with the deafening sound of a gunshot. The man let out a bloodcurdling scream, clutching his hand where his pinky finger used to be. Blood dripped onto the floor, pooling around his trembling body.

"That was just for fun," Aemond mused, tilting his head. "Now, let’s try again." Jace watched, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He didn’t care what Aemond had to do. He didn’t care how much blood was spilled.

All he cared about was you and he would burn the world before he let it hurt you again.

Jace’s patience had worn dangerously thin. His hands trembled with unrestrained fury as he snatched the gun from Aemond, ignoring the sharp warning look his uncle shot him. He didn’t care. There was no time left.

He pressed the cold barrel of the gun against the bastard’s forehead, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. "Where is it?" he barked, his voice raw with barely contained rage. "I swear to the god, if you don’t tell me right now, I will splatter your fucking brains all over this floor!"

The man whimpered, his eyes darting between Jace and Aemond. He was shaking now, his bloodied hands twitching as he tried to inch away. "You... you wouldn’t—"

Jace clicked the safety off. "Try me."

Aegon, who had been leaning lazily against the wall, whistled low. "I’d talk if I were you," he said casually. "Jace isn’t usually like this. But when he snaps? Well... you’ve seen what happens."

Aemond, still crouched beside them, smirked. "I’d say you have about ten seconds before he actually pulls the trigger."

"Alright! Alright!" The man’s voice cracked, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. "It’s... it’s in my phone!"*

Jace narrowed his eyes. "Bullshit," he spat. "We already took your phone. There's nothing there."*

"No—no!" he stammered. "It’s backed up! Cloud storage! There’s a scheduled upload! It’s linked to my laptop!"

Jace’s grip on the gun tightened. "Where is it?"

"My apartment!" the man gasped. "The files are on my laptop in my apartment! The password is in my notes app! I—I swear that’s all there is!"

Jace exchanged a glance with Aemond, his chest rising and falling rapidly. There was no way he could take this bastard’s word for it.

"Aegon," Jace growled, "get his phone and unlock it. Now."

Aegon pushed off the wall with a sigh, fishing the man’s phone from his pocket. "What’s the password?" he asked lazily, flipping the device in his hand.

The man swallowed hard. "My birthday... zero five, twenty-three, ninety-two."

Aegon smirked. "Cute." He tapped the numbers in, and sure enough, the screen unlocked. He scrolled for a moment before letting out a satisfied hum. "Notes app... here we go."

Jace didn’t lower the gun, his heart still hammering against his ribs. "Aemond, go. Get to that apartment and wipe everything."

Aemond didn’t hesitate. He stood, adjusting his coat. "Give me twenty minutes."

As he turned to leave, the man beneath Jace whimpered, "You said you wouldn’t kill me!"

Jace let out a humorless laugh, pressing the gun even harder against his skull. "I never said that."

Jace’s breathing was ragged, his hands gripping the phone so tightly his knuckles turned white. His pulse pounded in his ears as he scrolled through the files, each one labeled with cruel, mocking names. Twenty four videos. Twenty fucking four. His stomach churned with a mixture of rage and nausea.

Aegon stood beside him, arms crossed, watching his nephew with an unreadable expression. "Told you it was worse than you thought," he muttered.

Jace ignored him. His thumb hesitated over the first file before finally tapping it open. His jaw clenched so hard it hurt as the screen lit up with the sight of you.

You were lying on a bed, your eyes half-lidded, body limp. Your voice—soft, broken—murmured something he couldn’t make out, but the desperation in your tone was unmistakable. Jace's entire body locked up as he saw the way those bastards touched you, the way you flinched, how your fingers weakly gripped the sheets.

"Turn it off," Aemond’s voice was sharp. He had just returned from the bastard’s apartment, his coat slightly damp from the night air. "Jace, don’t watch that."*

But Jace couldn’t stop. His hands were shaking as he scrolled to another video, then another. Each one worse than the last. Aegon exhaled through his nose, rubbing his temple. "This is beyond fucked up."

Jace finally snapped. "You think I don’t know that?!" he roared, hurling the phone against the wall. The screen shattered upon impact, but the damage had already been done. The images were seared into his mind.

He turned back to the bodies on the floor—lifeless now, blood pooling beneath them. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

"Did you erase everything?" he demanded, his voice hoarse.

Aemond nodded. "Their devices are wiped. The cloud backups? Gone." He paused before adding, "But that won’t erase it from her mind."*

Jace let out a slow, shuddering breath. He knew that. No matter how many files he destroyed, how many people he killed, it wouldn’t take away what they had done to you. The nightmares, the fear—it would all still be there.

"She’s waiting for you," Aemond said quietly. "Don’t make her go through this alone."

Jace didn’t need to be told twice. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode out, his mind set on one thing—getting back to you.

Jace exhaled sharply, trying to steady his trembling hands as he looked at his mother. The blood on his knuckles had already begun to dry, staining his skin in deep crimson. His heart was still pounding, his body still buzzing with the remnants of rage.

Rhaenyra’s gaze was unreadable, flickering between the blood on his hands and the haunted look in his eyes. "You should clean up first," she said softly, though there was a firmness in her tone. "She’s asleep now. She doesn’t need to see you like this."

Jace clenched his jaw, glancing toward the staircase. He wanted to go to you—needed to—but he knew his mother was right. You’d already been through so much, and the last thing he wanted was to wake you up in the middle of the night covered in blood.

"Did she wake up at all?" he asked, his voice rough from exhaustion.

Rhaenyra shook her head. "No. But she was restless."*

Jace cursed under his breath. Of course you were. Even in your sleep, you couldn’t escape what had been done to you. His mother sighed and stepped forward, gently placing a hand on his arm. "Jace…" she hesitated before continuing, "Is it over?"

Jace let out a slow breath, his eyes dark. "Yes." He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to. The bodies were still lying in a bloodstained warehouse, their screams still echoing in his head. But it was done. They would never hurt you again.

Rhaenyra studied him for a long moment before nodding. "Go clean yourself up. I’ll stay here until you’re done."*

Jace nodded, dragging himself upstairs. He peeled off his bloodstained clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the scalding water burn away the evidence of the night. But no matter how much he scrubbed, he couldn’t get rid of the weight in his chest.

Once he was done, he threw on a clean shirt and sweatpants before quietly making his way to the bedroom.

You were curled up under the blankets, your face peaceful in sleep, but he could still see the faint traces of dried tears on your cheeks. His chest ached. He gently sat on the edge of the bed, watching you for a moment before hesitantly brushing a few strands of hair away from your face.

You stirred at the touch, blinking up at him sleepily. "Jace…?"

"It’s okay," he whispered. "Go back to sleep. I’m here."*

Without thinking, you reached for him, your fingers curling around his wrist. "Stay?"

Jace swallowed hard, nodding as he slid under the blankets beside you. You immediately curled into his warmth, your head resting against his chest.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as he pressed a soft kiss to your hair. "I’m not going anywhere."*

And for the first time that night, he finally let himself breathe.

Jace stared at the ceiling, his body tense, his mind refusing to rest. Sleep was impossible—not after what he had seen.

Those videos.

Each frame was burned into his memory, each desperate cry of yours clawing at his sanity. He had thought he knew rage before, thought he had reached the peak of his fury when he had put bullets in those bastards' skulls. But this—this was something else. A different kind of anger. One that seeped into his bones, poisoning him from the inside out.

His fingers curled into fists, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. The only thing grounding him was the feeling of you in his arms.

You stirred, shifting slightly in your sleep. A soft whimper left your lips before you curled deeper into his embrace, your hand tightening around the fabric of his shirt. Jace inhaled sharply, his anger momentarily replaced by something far more fragile.

His grip on you instinctively tightened, his hand moving up and down your back in slow, soothing strokes. "I got you," he murmured, barely above a whisper. "No one's ever touching you again."*

You let out a quiet sigh, your body relaxing under his touch. Jace’s throat tightened. He wished he could take all your pain away, wished he could erase the memories from your mind the way he had erased those men from existence. But it wasn’t that simple.

You had been strong for so long. Too long. And now, it was his turn to be strong for you.

His gaze flickered to the faint traces of tears on your cheeks, barely visible under the moonlight. A bitter taste filled his mouth. He had been too late. He should have been there. Should have stopped it before it ever happened.

Guilt gnawed at him, but then you moved again, pressing your face against his chest, a small sound escaping you. It was barely a whisper, but he heard it.

"Jace…"

His breath hitched. "I’m here."

He thought you had fallen back asleep, but then you spoke again, your voice hoarse. "Do you think… I’ll ever be normal again?"

Jace's heart twisted painfully. He shifted, propping himself up slightly so he could look down at you. "Hey, look at me."*

You hesitated before lifting your gaze to meet his. There was so much pain there, so much uncertainty. "You are not broken," he said firmly. "They don’t get to take that from you. They don’t get to decide who you are."

Your lip trembled. "Then why do I feel like they did?"

Jace clenched his jaw. He hated this. Hated that you were questioning your worth because of what they had done.

"Because they tried to break you," he admitted. "But they didn’t. You’re still here. You’re still you. And you’re stronger than you think."*

You let out a shaky breath, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, hesitantly, you reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "Thank you," you whispered. "For everything."*

Jace exhaled slowly, squeezing your hand. "I’ll always be here. Always."

And this time, he meant it more than anything else in his life.

Jace felt his heart drop as your quiet confession filled the room.

"I tried so many times…" Your voice trembled, barely above a whisper. "I wanted it to stop. I thought… maybe if I disappeared, they would finally stop. But every time I tried, it only got worse. Like they knew. Like they enjoyed seeing me suffer."

Jace’s grip on you tightened. His throat burned with the effort of holding back the rage that surged inside him like a wildfire. He wanted to scream, to break something, to go back and kill those bastards again just for the way they had made you feel.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he did the only thing he could—he pulled you against him, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "You don’t ever say that again," he whispered harshly against your hair. "Don’t you dare think that way. They don’t get to win. They don’t get to take you away."

You swallowed hard, your fingers gripping onto his shirt like a lifeline. "But they already did, Jace. They took everything."

Jace closed his eyes, inhaling deeply to steady himself. "Not everything. They didn’t take you from me."

You let out a shaky breath, but you didn’t argue. Instead, you just pressed closer, like you were trying to absorb some of his strength.

Jace hesitated. He wanted to tell you the truth—that there were more videos. That what he had seen, what Aegon and Aemond had seen, was so much worse than what you knew. That even now, when they had sucssed on tracking down every last copy, ensuring that none of it would ever see the light of day.

But he couldn’t.

He knew you. He knew that if you found out, it would break you. And after everything you had been through, after everything you had barely survived, he would not let that happen.

So he swallowed the truth and whispered instead, "You’re safe now. No one is ever touching you again. I swear it."*

"But what if—"

"No ‘what ifs’." Jace pulled back just enough to cup your face, forcing you to look at him. "I won’t let anything happen to you. I don’t care what I have to do, who I have to go through. You’re mine to protect now."

You searched his eyes for a long moment before something in you seemed to crack. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you broke down completely, your body shaking as sobs tore through you.

Jace didn’t say anything. He just held you. He let you cry, let you release all the pain you had been forced to carry alone for so long. And as he did, he silently vowed— Whatever it took, whatever price he had to pay—he would make sure you never suffered again.

Tag list : @danytar @hangmanscoming @julessworldd @yazzzmints @callsignwidow @giirlinblack @searatarg @vaelry @ashblooddragons

[littelovelunette]

what about a navy! sevika x farmer! reader where the both of them are on the edge of their relationship because sevika won't prioritize her wife because reader wants to start a family before reader eventually goes out to her garden in the middle of the night.

sevika then follows her wife to the garden to she apologies and beg for forgiveness before they eventually got really really breeding kink, praise kink intimate on the grass in the garden in the middle of the night

Little You's, Little Me's, but Janna, Little You's...

Navy! Sevika x Farmer!Reader

Contains smut, angst, breeding, praise kink, lovey sex, impregnation, possible depressed!reader, modern au, Sevika G!P

With the basic supply and demand of fruits and vegetables during spring, you're always on your feet running errands and supplying food.

It gets tiring after a while especially when after a particularly heavy night even when you come back there is no loving wife of yours to greet you, hold you, sleep with you or even have sex with at this point.

Beyond frustration.

And you knew perfectly well this was because Sevika didn't want kids and you did, so whenever you guys would talk now it'd get awkward because of that. When you both met you both had planned out your entire future together but now it all seemed in shambles. The woman you had married, who once said she loved children, didn't anymore.

Your marriage was at an all time low, Sevika was so busy with her work and missions that she was barely even available anymore and it made you so sad.

At the beginning you had thought she was cheating but then you both had a huge fight about it, it's been distant since that one fight.

Today was your anniversary and this was the first anniversary you spent without Sevika, sitting by the staircase in front of the front door, praying to Janna she comes back tonight because you have so much to ask. Does she even love you anymore?

The door clicks at 3 AM and Sevika slips in. She sees you at the staircase and sighs.

"I know I'm sorry." She said her voice nonchalant which made you further mad, she averted her gaze.

"You don't sound sorry," You retorted angrily, "Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

"What do you want me to say?!" Sevika yelled back, her voice booming, making yours seem like a puppy's bark, "I'm not bending backwards and apologising for no shit, you know very well what my job expects of me, and if you can't handle that maybe you should buy yourself some maturity!—"

"All this just because I wanna settle down? I'm not getting any younger, Sev..." Tears appear at your eyes and you say nothing as you stormed upstairs and into your shared bedroom, curling up in bed. You felt miserable now.

You waited for her to come in the bedroom and comfort you but you didn't hear her walking in so after you got up and looked around, the bedroom was still empty. It made you feel even more hopeless than before.

You could hear the faint snoring, Sevika was probably sleeping on the couch. You stayed there curled up in bed, leaning against the bedframe with tears pricking your eyes. You could feel the warmth of the tears falling down your cheek, it's been a while since you've felt any sort of warm anyway.

2 days pass, it's been the same except now you don't even get up to water your garden, nurture the plants. You just stay in your room, eat in your room, sleep in your room and sulk in your room. You wanted to cry, scream and just disappear but you also loved Sevika so immensely that it was eating away at your whole being at this point.

It was late at night and you couldn't hear Sevika snoring from down the hall, usually it was the white noise that helped you sleep but today you didn't even know if she was home.

Body too tired to move from mental exhaustion but you forced yourself out of bed, almost stumbling into the wall as you walked down the hall. Your eyes squinted in the darkness and finally found the doorknob, you opened it and a small gust of wind greeted you. You sighed again, heart heavy, you just wanted Sevika.

You walked outside and sat down on the grass, curling up there.

A while later, you hear the crunching sounds of the grass signalling Sevika either stepped out of the house too and into your garden or some mindless killer had broken into the fencing and would kill you.

Whichever it was, you didn't really care. Still staring into nothingness. You felt the figure kneel down behind you, "Baby," came Sevika's soft voice, "I'm so sorry I shouldn't have said all that."

You turned to look at her, eyes tired, face sunken.

"Love," Sevika gently held the side of your face, "Baby, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean what I said. I'm just scared. I'm being a little bitch but I'm so fucking scared that I won't be able to give my little ones enough time. I already don't give you time and—"

"Mm, it's okay," you said, looking away at the ground.

"No, it's not okay, I'm ready now. I'm sorry for being so cowardly, I couldn't even tell you, I thought you'd assume I'm weak."

"It's okay," you said now cracking a small smile as Sevika leaned in and kissed you, "Mm..." The kiss deepened, your body pressing into hers as you both kissed.

"I'd love to see little you's, little me's running around. Oh but Janna, little you's," Sevika said, her voice a little dreamy before she continued kissing you making you moan a little in her mouth, that gets her immediately hard.

Her hard cock pressing against your clothed sex through her sweatpants but she doesn't stop kissing you. Sevika nips at your jaw, and your neck as she moved lower. Her hands slipping beneath your blouse as she palmed your breasts. She was being soft and slow. Something you've rarely seen during sex.

You tilt your head back giving her better access to continue her ministrations, (I sound like c.ai)

"Doing so well, my baby," Sevika muttered as she tugged her sweat pants down just enough for her massive erect cock to slap up against her stomach, oozing precum.

"Stuff me with your cum," You cooed in her ear which was probably tearing away at any forming hesitations in Sevika's head. She didn't need telling twice when she pushed your panties to the side and penetrated you. Her cock slipping in your slick wet folds with ease, buried snuggly within you.

"You look so beautiful like this, taking my cock so well," Sevika mumbled, she would always go pussy drunk whenever she was inside you mainly because you were so lewdly wet and your pussy was so tight.

Sevika pistoned her hips, pushing deeper into your cunt with each thrust, hands coming down to roll and twist your nipples between thick fingers that didn't hesitate going down your throat too, making you choke and drool.

"S-Sevika..." You whispered and then moaned loudly as she got a little faster.

"That good, yeah, baby? You like it? Want more?" Sevika cooed and you nodded, barely able to make sense out of her words as she thrusted in and out. Your juices coated her shaft completely, you needed more of her.

"Sevika, Sevika," you continued babbling her name and moaning softly with every kiss of her dick to your cervix, it felt far too good.

"Gonna cum in this pretty pussy," Sevika panted out, kissing you deeply. As she gave one ast thrust, you could feel your pussy filling up with her warm semen. Your eyes rolled back at the feeling, she didn't pull out though, she stayed inside for a bit before she slowly pulled out, letting your panties back on your vagina.

"They'll get soaked," you whined.

"I don't care, keep it inside," Sevika kissed you again.

Sevika picked you up bridal style and took you to the bedroom, letting you lay down as she cleaned herself off and then you too, running you a warm bubble bath.

"I'm so sorry for fucking up our anniversary," Sevika leaned in, kissing your forehead and stroking your hair gently as she helped washed your sore body.

"It's okay," you said with a tired smile, "I'm just really sleepy..."

"I know," Sevika gave you a half smile before picking you up, drying you off and putting you in bed, tucking you in. She got in bed too beside you and held you close.

"Soon... We'll have a little human all to ourselves," Sevika thought out loud to herself, looking at your already asleep face, "Sleep well, love."

[localwebslingers]

Leaned back and arms crossed didn't exactly look relaxed but it seemed a lot less on edge than before, Peter was going to take that as some kind of win. It also was so just predictably a thoughtful, thinking position that he had to raise his eyebrow with some amusement, let the smile grow a little amused and fond. It stung a little to see that Harry still wasn't able to relax around him, which was fair and reasonable and Peter understood it, but he wouldn't call the posture subtle. Maybe Osborn approved, but for a moment he half expected it to be exaggerated in some way with the dramatics he'd gotten so used to seeing and hearing. Just to really lean into it.

They didn't happen, of course they wouldn't, they probably wouldn't be back for a while yet.

With the question, both of them, Peter's smile softened a little as he thought about his answer, "You were...pretty private, about it happening. I think most of it was that you worried about how it would go those first few days, if I'd really be okay with it and yeah...yeah I think you worried I might not be safe with you. You kind of gave me an apology warning that you could be a little...let's call it grouchy, at times." he held a hand up and squinted, fingers close together, "little bit." it was a light tease, and Peter lowered his hand again before shaking his head slightly, "But I knew that, and I told you I could handle it. That I wasn't worried and would be okay. If you really were worried about anything more specific then you kept it to yourself, but I had a couple guesses."

It was hard not to, not after the first time Peter had seen just how tense and cautious Harry had been when they were hiding from Kraven. When the identities were admitted into the open and the first real "cards on the table" conversation happened between them. The times in fights or close calls, tense situations passed that, even just bandaging major injuries, Peter had an idea of what he could be in for. It didn't scare him off all the times before, it didn't when he started coming by either.

"Just to be clear, you didn't. Hurt me I mean, or try to. Had a couple bad moods but for the most part it went fine. I knew to give you space when you needed it, what to try and help with and what I could actually do. Really what I did was just try to be there for you, help out how I could or just keep you company so you weren't alone..." Peter chewed his lip and was quiet a moment. Debating. What was better, to rip off the bandage now or to try and address one of the many elephants in the room days, maybe even weeks, later? Because it wasn't just having to get used to him that eventually got Harry to the point of being comfortable saying that Peter could be there, in those first days after the new dose of the serum was taken.

"We're- ....we're dating. Are...were, maybe, I don't really know if you..." if Harry wanted to still call it that, when he didn't remember it, and that made Peter's heart twist in a way it hadn't since he first saw Harry unresponsive in a bed, "I'm sure that sounds...completely believable and trustworthy, maybe, but that's why you said I could stay. You already trusted me, we hadn't been together a full year yet but we'd known each other for a little while before that and I knew how to try and make it easier, when stuff was a lot for you. Try and get you to focus on something that could help you relax. Sometimes I think I was even pretty good at it because it usually worked." he was trying not to get upset, trying not to feel hurt as that twist tightened more, because that wasn't what Harry needed right now. Someone to be upset and make him feel guilty for something completely out of his control.

"...and that's why even if you were worried that I might not be safe with you, I was sure I was. Because you don't scare me, or make me nervous, and if you did become dangerous, for whatever reason, I still would have been okay. I'm tougher than I look and maybe that reassured you...but I never thought I would have to. Not once, and I always told you I wasn't worried about it. You're just...Harry, to me."

|| @inhcritance ||

He knew that not feeling sick was a beginning, and not one to be underestimated: he didn't know what he'd have done, if his mind hadn't answered as it should but his body hadn't either.

Would it be alright, in the end? It was difficult to have hope, for all he knew he had reasons for it. For all he felt more capable, and while most of his memories hadn't come back, not exactly, there was enough that he could start feeling not so much adrift as lost, but with a chance of finding his way properly.

He wasn't sure, however, how much of a way he could hope to find when the mere presence of another human being was so distressing to his feelings. Knowing that Peter had been there for him, however... it was as close to hope as it could be, and while Harry did tell himself it could theoretically be a lie, it didn't feel like one.

For a moment there, he was even tempted to ask him to come in. To imagine what it would mean to have someone else close, maybe to even touch another human being. Touch and be touched and maybe even avoid the overwhelming impulse to harm that he didn't know how to control yet.

But that, he knew, was assuming the instincts, the impulses, were the same. And he couldn't trust on that, not when it could hurt the one person who was managing to make him feel less like something wild kept caged for the sake of everybody else, and more like an actual person.

So he leaned back, in the end, arms crossed loosely as he thought, because he didn't feel comfortable enough to lean forward and rest his chin on his hand, as he'd done so many times... before. Or thought he had.

"You said it happened eventually." He settled for, however. Because a part of him wanted to leave the topic, and stay at a victory, but the rest of him... well, he yearned for more. He needed to know more. "Was it a matter of exposition, of getting used to you... or did something happen?"

He couldn't believe in a magical cheat that would solve everything, but every single little tidbit of information was worth knowing.

"And... were you safe, when you were with me?" Because that was worth knowing, as much as the idea itself hurt.

But it was still a thread to pull on, a tiny sliver of hope, and he was determined to make something of it. Somehow. He just didn't have all the pieces he needed just yet, just the determination to try and collect them.

@localwebslingers

[mintmatcha]

Does your f/o like the strip club yes or no?

[seventh-district]

it’s finally getting cold enough that i can bring my cardigan collection back into rotation without feeling like i’m gonna melt into a puddle the second i step outside!!!

[gifti3]

good morning im hear to rant

okay so i just got asmos bath call

i already knew these calls werent actual goodbye calls because of the subreddit so i wasnt surprised, so thats not what im ranting about what im ranting about really is inconsequential and just small pet peeve of mine when it comes to ob3y me

i will say its was cute cause i love asmo and will take any crumbs i can get to hear him

but i wanna point out how it feels like the mc is stuck in the early stages of a relationship with the brothers for the past several years

like...the mc has known them for years at this point why do they (including the bros) get tripped over certain things that shouldnt matter if u been with someone for years?

maybe its cause of the nudity?

but i feel like the dynamic should have changed by now still and stayed that way. especially in the case of asmo cause come on, like if ur mc is interested in him and fine with nudity then this shouldnt be a new situation for them so like there should be an option throwing the same energy in his face. like i wanted to be like 'sick on my way' at the end but there wasnt one lmao

[superas1an]

thank you for putting a name to the exact thing i’m writing out right now. bless you and all those you love and cherish. now to go back to writing a heart breaking story about clint and ali…

People should make more doomed by narratives siblings relationship.

Like with lovers you can just sever it and not have it related to you ever again but with siblings how could you?

You grow up with them you raise them or they raised you you both know how unforgiving the world is to both of you? You would die for them but will hate them for doing the same and yet none of you would regret it and both of you know it. They could be the person you loath the most and miss the most cause you still remember how they sneaked a candy into your hands. You can sever the tie but you can never look away at what you've lost, at whom you've lost because fate doesn't allow you to be together, eating dinners in quiet peace, if only there's another life, another time, where i can make you another plate of pancakes i would im sorry im sorry im sorry —

[phagodyke]

not really relevant to anything but sometimes I just rly wish I had something core that made everything else feel real and worth it. ykwim

[highdefhoetry]

in his hands.

cw: nsfw!! female reader, hand kink, cnc-ish, fingering, G-spot stimulation, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, verbal teasing, praise, use of term "babygirl", aftercare, some mild possessiveness, caleb is a meaniehead

word count: 1760

Caleb sits across the table from you, completely oblivious to your stolen glances as he twirls the pen between his fingers. He follows a strange pattern where he spins it once, twice, then lays the tip back onto the blank sheet of paper in front of him. His fingers tap, tap, tap on the edge, clicking the pen open and closed. The black beads on his bracelet clink against each other with every movement, the perfect accessory to the thick ring on his index finger. You find yourself unable to look away, despite knowing what would happen if you were noticed.

You’ve always liked his hands. To you they were perfect, lovely to look at and even better to hold. The length of his fingers. The large size of his palm. The chapped skin on his knuckles. The warmth you felt whenever thw two of you held hands. They were a comforting familiarity, one part of him that remained unchanged yet had grown with him as he matured.

You understood why he still called you pipsqueak. With palms pressed against one another, yours still looked tiny compared to his.

While you're busy daydreaming, he plays with his pen a few more times, seemingly lost in thought, before he suddenly looks up and meets your eyes. When he notices you staring back, a little smirk creeps up his face, one you know will be followed by playful teasing. You quickly turn your head away.

You’ve been caught. And when you glance back at him and see the cocky look in his eye, you know that he’s not going to let it go until he’s teased you to hell and back.

“What’s up, pipsqueak?” he teases. “See somethin’ you like?”

You shake your head and bury your face back into your work, trying to ignore his quiet chuckles. 

“Don’t get all shy now,” he cocks his head to one side to better see your face, seeking out the flustered expression you’re trying so desperately to hide. “Fess up. Why were you starin’ at me?”

You stay silent, mumbling some half-assed excuse about not being able to focus. He laughs at your poor attempt to change the subject. A sudden warmth covers your hand, followed by soft strokes from calloused fingertips. When you turn your face away to hide the heat rising in your cheeks, he takes your hand and holds it gently.

“Come on, now. You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

He rubs his thumb across your knuckles, slipping it in the spaces between each finger. You eventually succumb to his gentle touch, intertwining your fingers in his. You toy with the ring on his index finger, poke at the black beads on his bracelet, trace the patches of flushed red on his knuckles that contrasts the paleness of his skin. You stroke each one with your thumb and index finger, feeling the dry, cracked skin beneath your hands.

A good deal of time passes before you finally snap out of it. When you meet Caleb’s gaze once again, you find him grinning victoriously, as if he’s just won some unspoken contest you never agreed to enter.

“You…!” is all you manage to stutter out.

“Me?” he smiles innocently. “What did I do?”

“...”

He lifts your hand to his lips and gives it a small peck in an attempt to softly coax you out of your shell. It makes you melt from the inside out, but still, you refuse to admit defeat. He watches you carefully for a few more seconds, giving you one last chance to come clean. When you don’t, he gets up from his seat across the table and circles around to your side. Before you can get a word of protest out, he picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder, carrying you straight to the bedroom.

He plops you down on the soft comforter, trapping you in place with both hands at either side of your body. You try struggling, but he simply pins you down by straddling your waist, making it so that all you can do is wriggle slightly beneath him. He leers down at you with a wild, uncouth grin, like a wild beast about to consume its prey. 

The sweet, honey-eyed Caleb is gone. You realize a little too late that you are totally, completely, undeniably fucked.

“I won’t let you run away, from this” he growls, with one hand on your thigh and the other gripping your arm, holding you firmly in place.

“Caleb…!”

“I saw you staring at my hands,” he gives your thigh a squeeze, smirking when he hears your muted squeal. “What do you want me to do with them? Hmm?”

You put up a half-assed fight, pretending to hate how he’s cornered you despite your growing wetness. He quickly picks up on this after slipping his hand under your panties. His fingertips brush against the entrance of your hole, circling it for a moment before sliding towards your swollen bud. He smiles when you let out a small moan.

“Tell me what you want, babygirl.”

His voice is gentle and low, but his touch is firm. He rubs your clit in a slow, deliberate motion, with just enough pressure to build you up but not enough to push you over. You arch your back and press your mound further into his palm, begging him without words. 

“Say it,” he leans forward, mumbling in your ear. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

You start to whine, unable to handle the way he’s teasing you. He’s being extra mean tonight, barely flicking your throbbing bud and ignoring the attempts you’re making to guide his fingers into your hole. You know he won’t comply until you give him what he wants. Which is the last thing you want to do.

“Mmm… Caleb…” you whimper cutely, hoping to appeal to his sense of mercy. He chuckles darkly, his once friendly eyes filled with sadistic glee.

“What are the magic words?”

“Nghhh… Caleb, please!”

“Please, what? I’m pleasing you right now, aren’t I?” 

He sticks one finger into your pussy, just for a moment. When he pulls it out, he slaps your mound hard just to throw you off. The tiny, surprised shriek you let out is met with a mean-spirited laugh. 

“Okay!!” You cry out, unable to hold back any longer. “Finger me, please!”

“Yeah? You want my hands inside you?”

“Yes! I want them inside me, please…”

A wicked grin stretches across his face as he savors his victory. Satisfied with your pathetic pleas, he finally yanks down your panties and gives you what you want.

First one finger pushes itself into your hole. He pumps it in and out, making sure to caress that sweet, sweet spot inside of your walls. You’re singing like a bird within seconds. Another finger is added, easing in gently so as not to hurt you. He finds his rhythm and uses your moans as his guide, focusing on your G-spot to build you up to the biggest orgasm possible. He presses his thumb against your clit, massaging it in tandem with his rapid fingering, and soon you’re squirting all over his hand. He pulls out momentarily to lick his fingers, savoring the taste of you on his skin. His amethyst eyes lock onto yours, feasting on the desperation permeating your gaze. Distracted, you cry out when he shoves his fingers back inside.

This time, he’s a bit more forceful. That first little orgasm was just a warm up. When he gets like this, one is never enough, and he won’t stop until he’s brought you to tears. With his swift fingers curled inside you, he pumps in and out at such a fast pace that you begin to see stars. That one little spot inside of you becomes his target, a button he presses over and over again until you reach climax once again. The second time is much more intense than the first; you can feel the soaking wet bed sheets underneath you, along with the slick fluid covering his fingers. 

Still not enough. He wants more.

He fingerfucks you again and again, forcing out countless orgasms that shoot through your body like hot lightning bolts. Your voice starts to feel hoarse from the screaming and shrieking, sounds that only seem to spur him on. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum, having given up on keeping track long after the third or fourth. And Caleb shows no signs of stopping. 

He whispers his affection into your ear while he plays with your pussy, telling you how beautiful you look as he makes a mess of you and how lovely your voice sounds when you make those cute noises for him. He fills your head with sweet praise, his words worshipping your form and beauty, weakening you with every syllable.

“That’s it,” he coos while coaxing the last orgasm from you. “That look on your face… that’s mine. Only make that face for me.”

You mumble something in agreement, barely able to form coherent words as you cum one more time. Inexplicable pleasure ripples through your body, setting ablaze every last nerve ending from head to toe. You go limp, covered in sweat and completely worn out from his torment. Caleb pulls out his fingers, licks your fluids off his skin one last time before he switches gears. He grabs a towel from the dresser and gently pats your face dry, pushing some of your tangled hair away from your face. That crazed look in his eyes is now gone, and once again he admires you with utmost affection. He asks if you need water, if you want a warm blanket, if you wanted to be held or left alone. You say yes to the first two, and cling to him when he asks the third. 

After you finish drinking a full glass of water, he wraps you up in the warmest blanket on the bed and cuddles up next to you, playing with your hair in a soothing, gentle manner.

“Soooo,” the teasing tone returns to his voice. “When were you gonna tell me you had a thing for my hands?"

You pout at him, feigning annoyance, but he just laughs and hugs you tighter. 

“I’m definitely going to use this against you, by the way.”

You don’t have the energy to argue back. Exhausted, your heavy eyelids shutter closed, and soon you drift into a peaceful slumber, which Caleb’s arms still wrapped snugly around you.

[nochepsicodelica]

NSFW

Toji calls you pup or puppy sometimes and you've always thought that maybe it had something to do with you being so playful and energetic at times, but those were always just your assumptions. Not a single one of those assumptions was confirmed by Toji, so you took it upon yourself to ask for the truth...

"Toji?" You call, looking up at him from where you sit on his lap.

"Hm?" He hums in response, looking away from the commercial on the TV and down at you.

"Why do you call me pup? Don't get me wrong, it's cute." You smile, feeling the warmth of the seemingly endearing name in your stomach. "But, I wanna know why."

"Mm... do you really wanna know?" You nod, bubbly giggles erupting from your chest in anticipation. You're so excited for this reveal. It's been a mystery for months. "Well, it's because you let out these high pitched, little whimpers, that sound like a puppy when I touch you, sometimes."

Glass shattered. Illusion crumbled.

Your face immediately heats up. "No... No! Really?!" You groan, shifting to lay back in his arms while covering your face in embarrassment.

"Don't be embarrassed, baby. It's cute. You're a sensitive little thing." His hand comes forward to rub your tummy over your shirt.

You huff, an audible hum of annoyance sounding out. "Well, I'm never gonna do it again. I'm just gonna stop. I'm done. Never again."

"You wanna test that out?" He asks, mischievous eyes watching your pouty expression. You nod, accepting the challenge. "Sit on my lap properly, like you were before." You shift back and sit up straight against his chest. He pulls your hands away from your lap. "Keep these here, and don't move them. Understand?" he asks, placing your hands on his thighs. You nod, again, and grip onto them.

His left hand snakes up your shirt, his fingertips teasing the skin of your stomach until goosebumps rise. It goes further up once the goosebumps have spread all over, sliding beneath the cup of your bra to rub your already pebbled nipple. So far you've only let out a couple sighs, so he adds in his other hand. It slips into the front of your shorts and beneath your panties, until his fingers make contact with your slicked up slit.

"Already so wet for me, mama. What happened?"

"It's always like this for you," you say, quietly, suppressing the urge to whimper as the pads of his middle and ring fingers rub your clit in such a tediously, slow manner. Your hands part from his thighs and attempt to grab onto his forearms, causing him to immediately pause the movement of the hand that plays with your nipples as well as the one in your pants.

"Hey." His tone is questioning of your actions, but there's the touch of a smirk on his face, like he knew you'd need more than gripping his thighs to keep you from folding so quickly.

"S-Sorry. I'm sorry."

He presses a chaste kiss to your temple. "Let's try that again."

Soon enough, those little breaths you released through your nose, became small, quiet whimpers, that you didn't think Toji would hear. He had to correct you so many times about the way you were sliding down his front. Eventually he decided to lift your bra entirely and just wrap his arm around your chest to hold you steady because of how much you were squirming.

"Toji, I'm gonna..." A louder whimper comes out, effectively bringing a victorious smirk onto Toji's face. He heard those quieter ones, but he didn't count them for your sake. You're his baby, after all.

He speeds up the movement of his fingers, his rough pads adding delicious friction to your sensitive clit. You tense in his hold when your orgasm hits, plenty of moans and those pet name earning whimpers, flooding out.

"There you go, puppy," he purrs, into your neck, slowing his strokes to not overstimulate you so fast. You grab onto the arm that's secured at your chest, your nails digging into his skin through the pleasure. He doesn't stop because you've already proven his point and he sees no reason to punish you anymore.

A few seconds pass and those whimpers return, accompanied by your thighs shutting around his hand. You curl up a little, holding on tight to his arm.

"Had enough?" He asks, stilling his hand between your legs.

"Mhm, no more," you mumble, sounding defeated after thinking back to the sounds you made and how this backfired entirely.

He pulls his hands out from your clothes and wraps his arms around you. "So pup and puppy are fair game?"

You sigh, and reluctantly nod.

[lxnarphase]

━━ ❝ guide you all the way down, be your nightlight ❞

up to the challenge : ⌞no nut november⌝ edition [ pt 1 - pt 3 - pt 4 ]

☾₊‧⁺...ft. : n. kento + h. hiromi + k. choso

☾₊‧⁺...cw: fingerfucking, squirting, dirty talking, begging, deep throating condom breaking, excessive cum, riding, kento being lovey-dovey, hiromi nearly loses his mind, choso being whiny and desperate, reader is on birth control but choso is just worried about the mess of no condom, choso's part is very long and indulgent

☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : to the anon who requests choso and nanami, i hope you don't mind i threw higuruma in here too, i really wanted to include him since he gives the vibes of being in the middle between nanami and choso 🖤 thank you so much for the request !

✧ n. kento lasts : entire month

you were the one to bring this up to kento, mentioning in passing that gojo wouldn't shut up about this 'challenge' he and geto were going to participate in. with a hum, he asks if you were trying to suggest something to him. if you wanted him to try this little 'game,' he wouldn't mind...as long as you'd let him pamper you all month. and he really does; he's breezing through each day as though nothing is wrong. kento's still as sweet as ever, constantly cuddling you, taking you out on formal dates, and telling you how much he loves you. he manages well the entire November, only showing weakness whenever you try to tease him. but of course, if you're going to try and break his streak, he just spreads you out on the bed, fingerfucking you until you squirt all over his hand. eventually, the whole month flies by, and kento genuinely feels relief that it's over. but he's a little shocked when he comes home, and you're dressed in a pretty, yellow matching lingerie set as you drag him into the bedroom that's filled with candles and roses...he pampered you all month, now it was his turn to be pampered.

"kentooo~" having you between his legs like this, cooing his name so sweetly, causes a shiver to shoot down his spine. you look so adorable, so gorgeous on your knees and pressing kisses up and down his length. those pretty kiss marks would be burned into his mind for weeks. but what makes his stomach flip the most? is that look in your eye. that needy, desperate, loving gaze...it made his cock twitch in your hands. "darling, please," he sighs, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek. you smile at him, you fucking smile at him like you aren't peppering his cock in kisses. with a little nip to his thumb, you giggle, nuzzling into his palm. "just focus on me, okay, ken?" he nods, sucking in a breath when your lips press against the tip of his dick. "fuck, princess, god, when you suck me down like that-!" the calm, sweet environment was gone now, with the way you sloppily sucked his cock. it was so fucking messy, your lipstick smearing all over his shaft as your manicured hand cupped his balls, softly massaging them as you felt your spit dripping down to your hand. "yes, yes, just like that, princess, k-keep going. oh, you're so fucking beautiful with my cock in your throat, 'm gonna cum soon in that pretty throat," he oh-so gorgeously moans for you, throwing his head back as he tries not to buck up into your hot mouth. for being such a refined, put-together man, kento loves when you give him such messy head, seeing how your lipstick is smeared everywhere, your chin dripping with precum and saliva. you could feel him throb in your throat just from the view. your kento is so sweet like this, doing his best not to fuck your mouth. but could anyone blame him when your mouth is so hot and wet? god, he never wants you to stop, not when you make him feel so greedy. each time you take him down your throat, kento swears he's going to cum, his head lolling back again as he lets out a deep groan of your name when you take all of him down like it's nothing. he wanted nothing more than to grab you by your hair and fuck your mouth like he wanted...but he wouldn't. no, he's going to keep letting his darling pamper him how she wants...but when he keeps just moaning your name so sweetly, begging you to let him cum... "p-please, honey, I'm so close, let me cum, my pretty girl, let me cum, I'll do anything-!" how could you say no to that?

✧ h. hiromi lasts : entire month

by the end of the first week, hiromi realizes how much he fucking regretted doing this. dealing with his cases has him so stressed he's surprised he didn't go completely grey. every time he comes home, he just wants to love on you, his darling little wife, but he can’t because he’s already dedicated to beating this foolish challenge. so while he can't cum, he is sure to take his frustrations out on you. but it literally crushes him each time he makes you cum, whether it be with his hands, mouth, or dick, and you look at him with those cute pleading eyes, softly whining for him to let you take care of him and make him cum too.

you are too cute for your own good, nearly causing hiromi to cave in several times as the month progressed. even you can see how it was affecting him, as he gets more and more desperate to make you cum, his eyes always zeroed in on your face to ensure your feeling good. he was a prideful, strong man, but fuck, he was so frustrated and pent up that he started to beg you to cum. "you're close, right? i can feel it, sweet thing. just listen to your pussy, she's so wet and sloppy, just from my fingers," he groans into your ear, sounding so wrecked and needy, and he hasn't even touched himself once. but you can hear it, the annoyance in his tone. hiromi is so close to breaking, to giving up and you nearly beg him again to just fuck you, but your eyes catch a glimpse of the clock on the wall. 12:27 am. it was december. he did it, he fucking made it, and you were desperately clawing at his wrist, trying to get his attention. "'romi, 'r-'romi! 's december, you made it, please, pull it out, t-take your dick out, 'romi, need you in me so bad!" with a quick glance to the clock to make sure you weren't fucking with him, hiromi lets out a delirious laugh, undoing his pants enough to pull his throbbing cock out, and he easily folds you in half, sliding his tip through the sopping wet mess between your thighs. "i made it, didn't i? i made it. so now you're gonna reward me, right?" you squeal when you feel the tip of his cock get caught on the entrance of your hole and nudge in juuust enough for you to cry out his name, gushing from the little stimulation it gives you. "look at you...I've been neglecting this little cunt, my fingers aren't enough, my mouth isn't enough. no, no, she needs t' be stuffed with a thick, fat cock to make 'er cream...isn't that right, angel?"

✧ k. choso lasts : 30 minutes

choso was stupid. he was so fucking stupid for even thinking he could do this challenge. he literally heard about it from yuuji before but had no idea what it meant. so here he was, looking at the calendar on his phone. it was mid-morning, and 5 minutes ago, he decided to do this challenge. choso should've remembered that he was a desperate man when it came to you because the second you come out of the bedroom, rubbing your eyes as you sleepily greet your boyfriend, he knows he's fucked. but seeing you in his black t-shirt and likely nothing else and choso let out a shaky sigh. just looking at you has his mind racing with all the different ways he wants to have you. you’d look really cute in his lap with a blissed-out smile on your face. with a needy whine, he stands up, dragging you back to the bedroom as he greedily kisses you, shoving his tongue into your mouth and moaning against your lips.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, 'm sorry, you look s' cute, so pretty, m-my pretty baby, y-your cunt is sucking me in—!" choso is a mess, fucking into you from behind. his hands grip your hips, keeping your ass up in the air as his cock abuses your insides, his hot, thick tip smushing against your cervix. he's fucking you into the mattress, his moans mixing with yours and those sweet, wet squelching sounds coming from your pussy, sucking his cock back in with each pull out of you. "moan louder, please? m-move your head, stop muffling yourself w-with the pillow," he whines, his body hovering over yours. you can feel drool dripping from his mouth onto your back, and just the feeling makes your eyes roll back. knowing he was so needy and desperate just to get his dick wet inside of you that he was drooling all over you made your walls clench so hard around him. "c-cho, 's too fucking deep, b-baby, 'm gonna cum," you sob, hands clawing into the pillowcase. instantly, you feel choso grip you harder, barely pulling out of you as his hips slap against yours in a bruising fashion, your body jolting up the bed with how hard he was fucking you. "don' run, please,, don' run from it," he whimpers, choking on a sob as he feels himself twitch inside your gummy walls, his hips stuttering against yours when you keen, pushing back against him when he hits a spot that feels so good. "fuck, f-fuck, 'm cumming, your pussy's so good, so wet, so fuckin' hot, 'm sorry, 'm cumming-!" despite his orgasm rushing over him, he keeps fucking you, his eyes rolling back as he moans your name over and over again, begging you for...something. he doesn't notice the sudden change, but you do, suddenly feeling warm and full inside as he keeps pounding into you. your eyes snap open, and you whine, turning a little to press your hand against his chest. "cho, h-honeyyyy! t-the condom, you broke the condom, you're cummin' in me!' you can't lie, it feels so good, and you feel your head swimming as he pumps thick seed into your needy cunt. it's another minute until he's done, and he starts to pull out but sees how creamy his cock is...and the way the condom is ripped at the top. he...he just came in you. his thick cum was starting to drip out of you, and your hand came up to press against your hole, not wanting to drip it onto the mattress. but he only registered it as you wanting to keep it inside...you wanted his cum? you wanted him to fill up that pretty pussy? he didn't even realize he was speaking out loud, quickly peeling off the broken condom and lining back up with your creamy cunt. "i-i don't mind it, choso, b-but t-take the condom off b-before you-chooo, babyyy, w-wait, that's so deep-!" "s-shhh, s'okay, you can take it, take it for me, 's okay, i always make it fit, i-it fits so good, pretty cunt, 's all mine, 'm gonna cum 'n you over and over again until your a creamy little mess, baby, i-i'll eat it outta you too, promise, promise, just let me stuff you, please!" hm, maybe he'd tell you later this was supposed to be a challenge...maybe not and just pretend like he needed you real bad today.

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