#these are helping me out of a slump tbh

[dalkyeom]

the prince and the pauper // the god and his disciple

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

random but it struck me that age is just another parallel/anti-parallel that Jon and Jaime will share. Jaime was 16/17(?) when he made the fateful choice to kill Aerys, which forever besmirched his honor and caused him to be “the Kingslayer” (deragatory). Jon was about the same age, 17/18, when he made the fateful decision to march south against the Boltons, something that will undoubtedly dent his already shaky reputation and could cause him to be “the deserter” (also deragatory).

We always talk about how Jaime stagnated and wallowed in his nihilism after Aerys’ death, never growing or maturing past that point; in a way, he was always mentally stuck at 17. Jon could very well die given the wounds he received during the mutiny, and though he will be revived, he will be always be physically stuck at 17, never maturing past that point. But I think Jon has been more successful in a way that Jaime never was in that he figured out quite early (when he was 15) that though he may lose his honor, he must keep pushing for the greater good. He understood the concept of “a bastard’s honor”, and is even more fortunate to receive Tyrion’s lesson of using one’s lowly position/lack of honor to his advantage, which he has been doing to enact what he considers to be the moral goods (ref “bastard” “guilty of that, at least”). P.S: I also think it’s funny given Aemon’s advice to kill the boy in order for the man to be born. Ironic that Jon will always be a boy physically.

Jaime grew physically but not so much mentally. Jon grows mentally (it’s actually his strong suit as a character how much he matures with each book) but he will have sacrificed the ability to age normally as a boy would. Jaime lost his honor at ~17 and is characterized but years of (mental) inaction. I think Jon, on the other hand, will lose his honor but will be more and more prone to making decisions, because to hell with it all.

[whysamwhy123]

Hmmm. What if I attempted to write a piece of Trash and posted it anonymously?

[steelycunt]

hey ridi!! I was wondering, how did you get back into reading? I see u post about so many books that sound amazing but I’m in such a slump and wondered if you’d been there before lol!

hi bab!! definitely definitely have been there omg i used to read obsessively when i was younger and then i just. fell out of the habit especially when i got to college and had to start focusing all my reading on my english course texts :-/ i think probably between 2019 and 2022 i read less than. 4 books a year and i remember people asking me what my favourite book was and i would struggle to produce an answer that wasn't a ya title i'd read a decade ago. so my new years resolution in 2022 was to get back into it!! i found it quite fun to go through putting a to-read list together, and also quite helpful, because before that id just go into a bookstore and have no idea where to start with picking something out. i also set myself a little goal to read 20 books in 2022 :-) i know a lot of people dont like the idea of measuring your reading that way which i get but also. it is a small and very attainable goal yknow. and while i think setting yourself a ridiculously high level of books to read in a given time span/tailoring the way you read for the sole purpose of consuming as much as possible is not a good habit...if having a little goal and the reward of meeting it helps motivate you to sit down with a book, then set a little goal :-/ i also use storygraph to track my reading!! i like being able to put my to-read list on there and picking what im going to read next + keeping track of what ive read because i WOULD forget otherwise, n i find the little graphs and charts it makes for you fun :-) i like a little graph :-) so yeah!! i think finding a few books you like the look of, and that will make you excited to read, is the best way to get back into it + make it a more regular hobby again :-)

[div1nity]

@dimensionalspades 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 : 008. inside an old abandoned house | soldier ——— （ SET THE SCENE ⟋ ACCEPTING ）

❛ wow ❜ virago hadn't meant to say the awed murmur out loud , however it was threatening to spill out of her mouth on the walk up here , there was no chance at hiding it the moment they stepped through the rotten door . it wasn't grand in the traditional sense , the walls weren't built high , there was no winding stair case that seemed it touched the heavens - it was small &. modest , a family house of the lowest calibre &. virago swears she can hear the laughter of the children that lived here through the small hallway ; an older brother pushing his younger sister into the wall , rushing forward clumsily &. almost slipping in the process . what a shame for it to be reduced to such a state .

foot is light against the floorboards , though there's a sharp creek that seemed to echo across the house , the mould that now made itself at home between the wood seemingly awakening from its nap - the sound was rather haunting . eyes slowly raise to soldier , only for a moment before they trail across the house from where she stood , giving it a moment - waiting for something to happen - she wonders if they have their intel wrong . though , the location of the place seemed as good as a hide out as any .

walking deeper into the house , she takes a left into the main room ; the sofa looked damp &. uncomfortable , faint . . . somethings , growing from the material . the tv was covered in a thick layer of dust , causing her to step forward and wipe across it with a glove before even thinking about what she was doing ; it was disgusting , but curiosity had her grabbed by throat ❛ this place is like a museum ❜ softly spoken , out of character , the woman behind the mask always had a love for the histories - this was it , in its purest form . an example of a time long passed ; touched by age , but not by outsiders - there isn't a single thing that seemed out of place ; it was a poloid , warn &. faded , but the image remained the same .

❛ wonder what the story is here . . . ❜ by now , virago is speaking at the other rather than to him ; all too used to the ai in ear picking up pieces of the assassin's mindless , vocalised rambles - habits never die , she gusses , she's not exactly used to the company of others anymore . she picks up the family photo gently in palms - not help but wandering if they're still alive , smiling back at her brightly , warmly . they looked like a good one - there's a dull sadnes rising in chest that's instantly forced down .

mission . focus on the mission .

❛ y'got anything ? i'm starting to think your intel is off . ❜

[formulawolff]

"my hero" - m.v.

pairing: social worker!reader x max verstappen

word count: idek tbh (i’m posting this on my lunch break hehe)

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, max in bf mode, long distance couple, cursing here and there, mentions of mental health, mentions of mental health disorders, mentions of physical health, yada, yada, yada

a/n: i know i said i was working on requests but this idea would not leave my brain all day. i couldn't stop thinking about it so i had to write it. (it's def a little self-indulgent) i hope y'all enjoy!

"ah! there you are. i can see you now!""

a giggle bubbles up in your throat, your lips forming a wide smile, "hi baby, how are you?"

he shrugs, the image distorted for about a millisecond. he comes into frame once again, slightly pixelated. however, you can make out the sleepy grin plastered across his face, and the twinkle in his eye as he looks into the camera.

max verstappen, three time world driver’s champion, is on facetime with you, donned in nothing but a black cotton tee and his boxers. you can tell from the background that he’s in his motorhome, settled in his room.

his hair is a disheveled mess, sticking up haphazardly. he more than likely just got out of the shower, as the fabric of the tee clung to his toned frame. underneath his eyes were two faint circles, the skin slightly puffy.

yet, here he was, calling you at god knew what hour just to hear the sound of your voice.

"tired. very fucking tired."

"i can imagine so," you nod, typing along at your laptop, "what time is it there?"

he hums, leaning over his phone, "it's about eleven thirty?"

"max!" your eyes widen, "you need to get some sleep. it's qualifying tomorrow!"

"and?" he counters, arching a brow, "i wanted to hear how your day went. from your messages, it seemed like it was quite eventful."

"i'm just wrapping up my notes now," you exhale, your shoulders slumping slightly, "it was a long day."

"i can imagine my baby," he coos, settling underneath the covers, "tell me all about it."

"i can assure you being a case worker is not nearly as riveting as a formula one driver," you snort, shaking your head, "you go first."

"nope," he was not budging, his attention still fixated solely on you, "tell me about your day, and then i'll share about mine. it's only fair."

"well," you wrinkle your nose, glancing over the open document on your laptop screen, "my day started with one of my clients experiencing a small crisis. she was without food so she called me, asking if i could take her to the nearest pantry. while i was with her, another client of mine called asking if i could transport him to his appointment.

i probably could have, but he reached out to me only fifteen minutes before his appointment time. i received my new staffing form today. i have a couple of clients who are in need of housing so i had to make some calls to some local agencies."

"and how did that go?" you can't help but feel heat flourishing into your cheeks at the intrigue laced in his tone, "were you able to make some progress?"

"not really," you inhale sharply, "housing is really difficult to find right now. it's sort of like when your tires are giving out, but you need them to last a few more laps. you have to remain hopeful so that you can keep pushing."

“i like that analogy,” he fights a yawn, but continues regardless, “that’s a good one. i’m going to use that.”

“as long as you credit me,” you muse, clicking your mousepad as you finalize your note, “how was practice today?”

“so-so,” he chirps, “i missed you a lot today. thought about you nearly every second of the practice session. you’re flying out next week, right?”

you nod, shutting your laptop, “yes. i’ll be leaving wednesday evening and catching a late flight. hopefully when i land, there will be this insanely handsome dutch man waiting for me.”

“is that right?” max’s dimples appear, causing your heart to skip a beat, “i’m hoping that my good luck charm arrives safe and sound. i can’t wait to see her.”

“counting down the minutes are we?”

“you have no idea,” carefully, he plucks his phone from his makeshift stand, bringing you closer into the bed with him, “will you stay on till i fall asleep?”

at his request, there’s a tug at your heart. fuck, if only you were with him. then he would have been able to lay on you until he dozed off. his head would have been snuggled into uour collabone, your hands tangled in his hair, playing with it as his chest steadily rose and fell.

if only you were there. if only you were an influencer or a model. if only you could take work with you, dropping everything to fly all over the world. if only you weren’t separated by time zones, where you had to carefully coordinate facetime calls.

if only you weren’t long distance, then maybe you wouldn’t feel like this.

if only.

“hey,” max’s voice is merely a whisper, “are you okay?”

your lower lip trembles, tears welling up, threatening to spill over. there’s a choking sound, as you attempt to suppress a sob.

yet, it was too late. they were streaming down your cheeks now, your hands instinctively shielding your face.

“baby,” max murmurs, “what’s going on?”

“this shit sucks,” you shake your head, the words strained, “i hate that i’m not with you right now. i hate that we’re long distance. i hate that i have to stay here and—“

“but your clients need you,” his tone is delicate, “you’re the one person they can count on when everything else is going to shit. they need you like i need you. i can tell you had a long day baby, but i’m here. i’m here for you, no matter what.”

“i-i love you,” you manage to sputter out, wiping your cheeks, “i love you, max.”

“and i love you more than you’ll ever know,” in the frame, a pillow is held against his chest, “i’m even cuddling this pillow right now pretending that it’s you.”

“i can’t believe you fell in love with some plain girl from the states,” you sigh, resting your head against the couch cushion, “out of everyone in the world, you happened to fall in love with me.”

“you’re not just any girl from the states,” for a moment, you’re shocked at the firmness in his tone, “you’re my girl. it takes someone special to do what you do. you’re my hero baby. i aspire to be as strong as you.”

“i love you,” the corners of your lips curl into a quaint smile, “am i really your hero?”

“of course,” it doesn’t even take him a second to respond, “like i said, you’re the strongest person i know. you inspire me.”

“i can’t wait to see you,” you murmur, taking note of the way his eyes were drooping, “i’ll stay on till you sleep, my love. it seems like you need it.”

“hey,” one eye opens, barely a slit, “i know this shit sucks right now, but we’ll make it. okay? one day you’ll get to come home to me and tell me all about your day rather than calling. it’ll be worth it. i promise.”

“i hope so. i love you, maxie. sleep well, my love. i’ll be there before you know it.”

“try to have a good evening,” you could barely make out the statement, as he was beginning to doze off, “just end the call when i’m asleep. i’ll message you in the morning.”

“i’ll be here,” opening your laptop, you prop it against the screen, “goodnight, maxie.”

“night, night, baby.”

as sleep takes a hold of the dutch driver, you remain on the call, opening youtube. cautiously, you click on one of your favorite videos. it’s a montage of all of max’s wins, starting from the 2016 spanish grand prix.

the video begins to play, the volume carefully adjusted so that it doesn’t wake him.

as your gaze shifts to your phone once again, you can’t help but hear his words ringing in your ears.

one day this would all be worth it.

and one day, max verstappen would be able to be with his hero.

every single day for the rest of his life.

[rensblade]

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃.

⟢ warnings/notes: husband! jing yuan x gender neutral! reader. toothrotting fluff, cute domestic banter tbh. husband yuan nation, please rise. not proofread, we die like tingyun. might be ooc. pls lmk if i got any of the hsr terminology wrong.. appreciate any type of feedback & please please pleaseee send me reqs if u have any ✩

“beloved, am i really that bad of a general?”

the all too familiar baritone of your husband’s voice fills in your ears, as you raise your gaze from the distance, only to watch him sulk from where he was sat upon the seat of divine foresight.

to anyone that squints, would be graced upon a phenomenon all too odd— jing yuan, one of seven arbiter generals, pouting.

“and what.. exactly makes you think so, ‘yuan?” you already knew the answer, but you still entertained the fact he was pouting, almost comically the same way yanqing does, when you deny him from making impulsive sword purchases.. or the same way mimi, your household lion, scrunches up her face and paws at your clothes when you tell her that she won't get any more snacks for the night.

said man sits up from where he's at, and abruptly makes his way down to where you're seated— at his desk. sorting through some of the things unattended earlier during his earlier escapade to fyxestroll garden.

“well.. you know.” he deadpans, staring down at you. you have to keep in a giggle, finding the way he waited so patiently for you to finish with the work at your side, almost akin to your precious lion who does the same.

you heave a sigh, but in an amused way, as you stack the last documents into a neat pile and turn in your chair, and upon being graced with your attention; your lover nearly falls dramatically into your arms.

“i can't help but think i should just hand over my resignation early. you know what, fu xuan probably saw this coming,” he fake-wails, as you caress his hair, cooing at the man who was currently at your feet.

eventually, he relents, when you tug a little hard on his fluffy white mane. “darling.. is this about cirrus?” the mere mention of the heliobus makes jing yuan glower, and you practically have to bite back your laughter at the expression, opting to clear your throat instead.

he stays silent for a second, then scrunches his face. “..absolutely not,” he retaliates in a serious tone. then, he slumps forward again, almost nuzzling into your lap as he tries to hypothesize. “it's just. i need some constructive criticism, before i actually hand over my position to someone else, you know,” he reasons, but you know better.

“right, why of course.” you humor him a little bit longer. pushing the general’s buttons has always been your favorite past time activity.

he pulls away, getting on his feet before he gathers your hands into his and gives you a solemn look. “you get me, my love. this is why we're married.”

that makes you crack a smile. jing yuan only raises a brow, but returns the smile nevertheless, a little hesitant. “yuan, i love you, but. you mean solid constructive criticism like.. i don't know, maybe it's about time you retired and took a big fat cat nap?” you suggest with a snort, and jing yuan simply huffs. (yeah, mimi definitely got the attitude from her dad).

you shake your head, dragging him to sit next to you as you elaborated. “in all seriousness.. you're not a bad general. not a bad mentor, father or husband, jing yuan. don't let that silly heliobi’s words get to your head.” the tall man, lets you cup his face, squishing his cheeks as you pepper kisses across them, as if to prove your point.

he simply gathers your form up into his arms, holding you tightly and you can't help but relax into the warmth he emits. he's truly a big cat. “you know, i’m starting to think this must be how birds that nest in your hair must feel.” you point out with a false-huff, after a minute of silence.

jing yuan chuckles at that, purposely tugging you by the waist; flush closer against his torso as he nuzzles into you— pale locks of his hair cloud your vision. “why, of course. a wise, little sparrow, you are.” he snuggles against you, golden eyes softening as they examine your reactions. “in fact, my favorite.” the baritone of his words send a pleasant wave of warmth through your body, you can feel him smile against your skin as he litters little kisses here and there.

to be fair, if you were held prisoner in his gentle yet steady hold forever, you were more than willing to be reduced to a mere bird, for eternity. okay, and maybe you would miss making snarky rebuttals at the general, but that's about it.

as you're resting yourself against him, a thought crosses your mind, and you'd bask in the silent affection but your loud thoughts cut you short. “and for the record, you still should've let me kick cirrus’s butt.” as expected, a hearty laugh booms from the man’s chest, the vibrations making your body tingle.

“i love you.” he says, practically purring, as the gigantic man nuzzles even further into the crevice of your neck, pressing yet another kiss to the spot he loves. his hair tickles your neck, but you love the familiarity of it all.

what a heavenly life you live, as the general’s personal songbird.

rensblade, 2023. please do not steal my writings or headers, i put a lot of effort into this. reblogs & comments are appreciated! pls send me asks/reqs, i write for most genshin or hsr or jjk characters as of now. thank u once again <3

[verstappen-cult]

Okay so this is my first request even having but I just had this random idea. So basically I had knee surgery recently (won't get into that 😂) but I was just wondering if you could write a fic about lestappen where their girlfriend gets surgery and basically the whole thing is just fluff tbh add whatever u want or whatever surgery if u write this. But I just feel like they would definitely make me feel loved after surgery

“Are you comfortable?” Max asks, fluffing the pillows behind your head.

It’s the third time he asks you the same question in a span of ten minutes. You don’t want to be rude, he’s just trying to help, so you smile up at him.

“Yes, baby. Thank you.” He opens his mouth to speak again but you beat him to it. “Weren’t you going to stream today?”

Max frowns at you, and shakes his head. “No, I told the boys I won’t be present today. I’ll be taking care of you.”

Your heart melts. If it weren’t for the surgery you just had that makes it a little difficult to move, you would be getting up to kiss him.

“I won’t go anywhere, and I already have everything I need here,” You take his hand, caressing the inside of his wrist with your thumb. “You can go, I’ll call you if I need anything. Besides, you know how much I like to watch your streams.”

“Are you sure?”

You nod, “Yes, go!”

Max leans and kisses you gently, being very careful, and then flies out of the room shouting something similar to I love you.

You reach for your laptop, ready to watch your boyfriend. And he really wastes no time because in less than five minutes he’s joining the stream, the viewers going absolutely crazy about him.

“I wasn’t going to join today, Crane. But my girlfriend insisted!” Max says and you can’t help but smile.

“She had surgery recently, no?”

“Yeah, nothing too serious. She’s resting now,” Then he looks at the camera and has the audacity to wink.

The stream goes like any other, they joke around, they play and joke some more. You don’t even notice when an hour has passed, it’s only when you look up to see Charles at the bedroom door that you realize how late it is.

“Charlieee, I missed you.” You pout, making grabby hands at him. He immediately makes his way to you, leaning to leave a kiss on your forehead. “What took you so long?”

“I couldn’t find the medicine you needed but I got everything after searching literally everywhere.” He takes off his jacket, sighing. “I picked us some dinner, too. Where’s Max?”

“Streaming.” You say, pointing to the screen where he’s looking very focused and hot.

“What?!”

But before you can beg him not to say anything, he’s already storming out, going directly to Max’s streaming room. You can’t move but you still have a front row seat.

Looking back at the screen, you see Charles’ legs coming into view. You see in slow motion how he removes Max’s headphones off his head with a little more force than necessary.

Max turns around and a smile makes its way into his face. “Hey love, didn’t hear you come in.”

“You left her alone?! She just had surgery and you left her alone?!”

“She insisted!”

“You should’ve said no!” Charles gives Max’s shoulder a little push and storms out.

You can hear him saying something in French from your room, and you know he’s just cursing Max for leaving you alone.

You hear Max’s friends laughing and making fun of him while your boyfriend looks embarrassed, cheeks impossibly red. He says a quick goodbye before shutting everything down.

Charles enters the room, brows furrowed.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You say, trying to look more angry than amused. “He didn’t want to but I insisted.”

“I told him to take care of you while I was out, was that so hard?”

Max shows up then, shoulders slumped and looking like a kicked puppy.

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much.” You cross your arms over your chest. “I don’t need you to be by my side every hour of the day.”

Charles' expression relaxes and he opens his mouth to argue, but you raise your hand to stop him.

“I’m not finished,” He closes his mouth and you sigh before saying, “Max, come here.” He immediately does, sitting by your side. “You’re gonna apologize to him now.” You speak to Charles this time, looking intently at him.

Charles lets his head fall forward. Now he’s the one who looks like a kicked puppy and you try very hard not to laugh.

“I’m sorry,” He mumbles, getting up just to sit at the other side of his boyfriend.

“It’s not like you left me alone yesterday so coy could play some FIFA while Max was training.”

Max gasps, clearly offended, “I want a public apology.”

“It was supposed to be a secret!” Charles groans and you slap his arm.

The smile is back on Max’s face.

“They’re gonna make fun of me for life.”

“They already make fun of you, Maxie.”

“Okay, rude.”

“And by the way,” Charles glares at you, pointing an accusatory finger at your face. “We’re just trying to take care of you. I don’t care if we annoy you, we’re not gonna stop.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Charles shuts you up with a kiss. He does the same with Max, peppering his face with kisses as an apology too. “I’ll grab dinner and we can watch a movie.”

Max stands up and follows Charles out of the room.

“I want to help too!”

“No!” they shout from the kitchen.

[bonafideyapper]

DAY OFF - maximus (fallout tv) x female!reader (smut)

Warnings: SMUT MDNI!!! 18+ // virgin maximus, you work for free because he’s just so sweet, no use of “y/n” but “your name” is typed out, subby (switch) Maximus, he’s embarrassed, I love it; reader is described as female, chubby, and southern/from the east coast, premature ejaculation (but the stamina is there fr he’s back up and ready in like 30 seconds flat); oral sex (m receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it ‘fo you tap it, reader), creampie, I probably forgot some but tbh I didn’t expect to get as raunchy as I did (not proofread)

(this is written to be a one-shot but if there’s enough interest in a second part i’ll work something up :)) 

Word count: 3k

Masterlist

Maximus was pretty pissed off and worn down by the time he came across a settlement along the way to tracking down the head, or the armor, he really didn’t know what his purpose in life was at the moment. He was just tired and needed some water, maybe a snack. He kept thinking back to that vault dweller he met in Filly, her pretty big eyes and that cute little smile. He’d never see her again, but hey, at least he could have the memory. 

He stumbled into the first crudely established business he could find that might serve him, taking a seat at the bar and trying to get the bartender’s attention. Clearly had not taken in the scenery of the bar he was in. Beautiful women stood around, each one with various male patrons. Unable to properly get the man’s attention; Maximus huffed and let his shoulders slump in near-defeat. After meeting the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and then getting his ass kicked and losing the fucking armor, he had little energy left to give. 

You noticed this from your position at the end of the bar, slowly inching your way down as he took his place at the bar. The man had barely looked up when he burst through the door, clearly not noticing he had stumbled into the only brothel for miles around. Well respectable women making money to support themselves, helping weary travelers and the occasional rough raider to get some peace and release for the night. Today was your day off, but you always loved a little challenge. 

“Emmett! Would you be a dear and get me two waters?” You leaned over the bar and flashed the old man a big smile, he had always had a soft spot for you since you’d always slip him a big tip from whatever you made upstairs. Emmett filled up two glasses of water and slid them across to land in front of you, “On the house, beautiful.” 

You turned to get a good look at the man, fighting back a laugh as he stared at the glass of cold water in your hand, almost resembling a panting dog. “Here, honey; this is for you.” He muttered out a ‘thanks’ as he took the glass and took it down in three gulps, setting it back down on the counter between them. 

Maximus was smitten the moment he laid eyes on you, his literal saving grace. He finally took in his surroundings and cleared his throat, trying to put on that macho attitude of a knight, but really just an awkward little guy (with and) without that armor. “Thank you, um, I didn’t seem to catch your name?” He tried not to notice the obvious – that you were a whore, and he was a lying squire. He figured you two were one in the same, he was the lowest rung of the Brotherhood’s hierarchy, and you were, well, a prostitute. Max didn’t really care though; he had never seen someone as captivating as you, especially not in the wasteland. 

You told him your name, and Maximus swore he had never heard anything so beautiful before. He watched you take small sips from the glass in front of you as you spoke with him for the next few minutes, realizing he had yet to offer you his name. To lie or not to lie, that is the question.

“M-Maximus. That’s my name.” He told you, offering up a piece of knowledge about himself. Hey, he figured he’d never be back in this part of the wasteland, telling you his real name wouldn’t hurt nobody. “I uh, I don’t have any caps, so if you’re looking for a customer…” He trailed off, thinking you were only there for one thing. 

“Well, lucky for you, today’s my day off.” You flashed him an award-winning smile, one that would’ve been plastered on billboards in the old world. 

The two of you talked for awhile, neither of you too worried about the environment around you. You filled in most of the silence with some stories about your past. He found out you were close to his age, had come to the western wasteland from what used to be the Carolinas, and were working in the saloon until you could find someone to take you back to Appalachia. You both sat there until closing time, Emmett giving you signal with a jerk of his head towards the stairs leading up to your room with an eyebrow up as if asking, “Charity work on your day off?”

“Hey Maxie, you wanna go get some sleep? Only five caps for a nice place to rest.” You squeezed his arm gently, leaning towards him, “No business, just as friends.” Maximus had never had a nickname before, other than the verbal insults spat at him by his fellow brothers. After spending quite some time with you, he decided that he liked the nickname, and would not let the abuse of the Brotherhood affect his brief time with you. He found himself nodding without thinking over your offer, blindly following you once you moved your dainty little hand to grab onto his larger one. Once he was behind you, he took notice of the way your dress moved as you walked, swaying slightly with each step. He tried to remain honorable and not stare at your ass as you went up the stairs, believing you were telling the truth when you claimed that no ‘business’ would happen.

Boy had he been wrong.

Once you had him safely in the confines of your room, your lips were on him like flies to honey. He desperately kissed you, his hands coming up to hold your cheeks like you’d float away if he didn’t anchor your body to his. Or, maybe he felt like he’d float away if he didn’t hold onto you. 

“No, no no no no! This can’t be happening.” Maximus broke away from your lips suddenly, trying to push you from his lap at the feeling of his growing erection. 

“Hey hey, calm down.” You frowned and grabbed onto his hands, distracting him by putting them firmly on your thighs and looking up into his frantic eyes, “What’s wrong, honey?” 

“I think my cock is about to explode.” Maximus panicked and frowned when you just laughed in his face, not taking his worries about the brainwashed BoS sex ed seriously. Your hands floated up to rest on the side of his neck, your thumb ghosting over the scar running along his chin.

“Oh, bless your heart. Maxie, that’s what‘s supposed to happen. Do you trust me to make that feel good for you?” The way you cooed to him in a condescending way in that sweet southern accent made him whimper. His head nodded on instinct, going into this with blind trust for you since hey, you were a professional. With him finally voicing the consent on the matter, you flashed him a big smile and resumed making out with him. Your hands drifted down between your two bodies, palming him gently through the front of his pants and eliciting sweet whimpers from the virgin. 

His hands were clumsy as they explored your body, but you didn’t really mind. He finally discovered the places his hands felt like home, one landing on the soft, plump flesh of your hip as the other found its place on your lower back. He pulled your body closer, seeming to gain more courage as the night progressed. Something about a safe bed and a good-looking woman in his lap just did it for him, y’know? 

Max shifted you both down so he could lay his upper body back against your pillows, just trying to get comfortable and not think about the way his cock felt–you made it very hard (pun intended) to think about anything else. You broke your lips away from his and let out a melodic giggle as he chased your lips. You needed him out of that white t-shirt that oh-so-deliciously clung to his biceps, so naturally your hands reached to pull it over his head. 

You really were the best at what you did, and you knew it, Maximus could tell. You expertly removed his belt and pants without him even noticing, only detaching your lips from his because you had started to leave a trail moving down, down, down…

Fuck, he’s beautiful, you thought to yourself. Taking time to press open-mouthed kisses along any scars that may have been on his abdomen, you glanced up to see his eyes locked on you. Half-lidded brown eyes stared down at you, his breath catching in his throat as you finally reached your destination. You carefully opened his pants and tapped his hip gently, asking him to lift up to make this a little easier for you. As he obeyed, you pulled his pants down in one swift motion, smirking when you saw his cock. Perfectly shaped, thick and girthy, just how you liked it, and rock-hard as it sprung up out of the confines of his briefs. 

“Still trust me?” You whispered to him before you put your hands on him again, basically salivating over the thought. Maximus didn’t even need to hear the rest of your question, nodding frantically after you uttered the first syllable. Taking his cock in your hand, you easily began working him, keeping your eyes on him. You loved the look on a virgin’s face when you touched them for the first time, and Max was no different. His eyes had closed, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. Absolutely fucking beautiful, in your professional opinion.

His hands found their way to your hair as you licked a drop of precum from the tip of his cock, humming softly in delight at the salty substance before immediately getting to work. You wrapped your lips around him and gathered enough saliva to really make it enjoyable for him, not even having time to really get sloppy with it when the pretty boy had busted in your mouth with a profuse apology. Greedy, you pulled your mouth off of him and swallowed down the load. You thought it was cute how apologetic he was at how quick it had happened, so you wiped your mouth and leaned up to kiss him again. “Don’t apologize, I’m not done.” 

Max didn’t know what else to expect, already astonished that it had gone on this long and his cock was still attached to his body. With his cock standing staunch and almost painfully erect again, Maximus let out a pitiful whine when you lifted your dress over your head. You guided his hands to your hips again, starting to work a rhythm against him with your hips. 

“You okay if I ride you, honey?” You asked him, peppering kisses across his jaw and down his neck. Maximus nodded quickly and dug his fingertips into your pudgy hips, moving you in his lap the way that he wanted. He thinks he’s starting to get the hang of this sex thing, until you lift yourself up and he feels the warmest, softest grip he’s ever felt before. He thought your mouth was the best thing he had ever felt, until he felt the way your pussy gripped his cock alll the way down until he was buried inside you. 

“Shit, Maxie, you might be the biggest I’ve ever taken.” You mewled, leaning over his body in a way that perfectly positioned your breasts above his face. You put your weight on your hands on either side of his head, propping yourself up to start moving your hips. Grinding into him for a moment to really feel how deep he was before lifting yourself up and dropping yourself back down to test the waters with your new toy. 

Meanwhile Maximus couldn’t focus, at this moment he had completely abandoned his faith in the Brotherhood, creating a new religion in your body. Maybe he was just delusional over getting laid but he would worship the ground you walked on after this. His mouth found one of your nipples and latched onto it almost instinctively (don’t mommy kink shame me), rolling his tongue over the sensitive bud before pulling back to give the other some well deserved attention. 

You finally fell into a good rhythm, leaning back on him and grabbing onto his legs behind you for support as Maximus figured out that if he thrust his hips up just right, you’d let out a new sound. At some point you realized he had taken over, his hands digging roughly into your hips and thighs as he fucked up into you. 

Maximus grinned when he realized that not only did this feel great, it looked like you were actually enjoying it too. He was a quick learner, figuring out which ways to move his hips that would elicit the sweeeetest noises from your throat. He decided to get cocky with it and put those squire muscles to good use, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you in place against his body as he pistons his hips quicker. Admittedly becoming more sloppy, but he soon realized that it was because you had come completely undone in his arms. 

Your eyes had rolled back as soon as he help you in place, nothing but the sound of his balls slapping against your ass and your moans that were getting higher and higher in pitch. “Max- fuck- Maximus—“ you tried to warn him that you were going to cum, burying your face in his shoulder and white-knuckling the blanket as you exploded instead, a gush of what Maximus thought was piss (he would later learn that no, you didn’t just urinate on him) coating the two of their abdomens. Never deterred him though, because soon after Max had let the explosion feeling take himself over, pumping his heavy load into you. You swore you could feel it literally hit your cervix and hoped you weren’t ovulating.

Maximus kept his arms tightly around you as you laid on top of him for a moment, moving only slightly in a way that would allow his cock to slip from your velvety walls. Leaving you with the ejaculate mix dripping down your thighs. His fingers traced up your spine gently before his dropped his arm to the side, letting you get up if you so pleased. 

You did, but only after hovering your face over his to brush your lips against his in an almost-tender kiss. Your legs were shakier than you’d like to admit as you crawled off of him, cleaning yourself up a bit before wrapping yourself in your nice robe. Maximus sat up a bit on his elbows to watch you float around the room, smiling up at you when you came back to him with a wet rag to clean him off. 

“Get some sleep, Maxie.” You pressed your lips to the skin just above his bellybutton, then one against his sternum, finally one more pressed to his lips that lingered as long as he allowed it to. To you, aftercare was important to both parties, and since you were the more experienced, you’d have to teach him a thing or two about that. “You’re safe here with me, I promise.” 

Maximus watched you slowly make your way up his body, wrapping his arm back around you to pull you closer to deepen your kisses. Both of you had just exploded and yet he could still probably go again, but the exhaustion of his journey had finally hit him, and he knew he had a lot of ground to cover in the morning. He nestled his head against your bosom and closed his eyes, not used to any sort of cuddling but definitely just wanting to feel your softness as long as he could before everything got hard again. 

You had a fond smile on your face as you looked down at the man in your bed, it wasn’t often that you took a serious liking to any of the men that strolled through the saloon doors, but something about the “I can fix him”-ness of the false knight under your covers was intriguing. You wrapped your arm around him and gently traced your finger over some raised skin between his shoulders, too tired to make out what the shape was. 

You had woken up before him the next morning and had already gotten dressed and ready before deciding to wake him, a plate of biscuits and a cup of badly-made coffee on her side table. Maybe, you hoped, if you made his time really worth it he’d come back to see you again. Maybe as a customer, but you wouldn’t charge him any caps for your services. He’d be your exception, something about a friends discount. 

Maximus opened his eyes slowly when he felt a small hand massaging his back, turning his head to look towards your figure sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“Mornin’, honey. You gotta get goin’, I got business to attend to.” You watched as he rolled onto his back and looked up at you fully. Max cracked a smile as he reached over to grab your face, pulling you down but leaning up to meet you halfway and capture your lips in a kiss. 

“I’m going to come back for you, I promise.” He whispered against your lips, thinking back to your conversation the night before about working there until you found a companion to guide you across the vast wasteland. He’d find the knight’s armor and return to prove himself worthy of being a knight by rescuing the fair maiden. 

“I’ll hold you to that, Maxie.” You pulled away from him and gestured to the clothes on the edge of the bed, “Get dressed, there’s a fire escape out my window. My boss will be so mad if she sees you leavin’ this late in the morning.” Maximus redressed himself pretty quick and peeled his head out the window to see the makeshift ladder hanging down the side of the building. He turned back to try and steal one more kiss, but you had already fled the room. 

a/n: ok so I wrote this at work & when I got off work I was exhausted but I neeeeeded to finish it so this went way off the rails, wasn’t expecting myself to do all that, but hope you enjoyed!

taglist: @judgementdays-girl (you requested a max fic after i had already started so here's this :))

gif by @mancandykings

dividers by @cafekitsune

[the-kipsabian]

listen.

all im saying is that in aew, its always been chuck and trent. the best friends. oc has always been an add-on. he comes out to his own music, with his own friends, does his own thing, holds his own titles. chuck and trent share a theme song. when they arent injured they come out together for each other pretty much all the time. i believe one of the only times either challenged for a singles title was when trent faced oc (thanks kip) but chuck was still out there

what i mean is chuck and trent have always been together and been there for each other. yes oc is a friend. but there is a disconnect between how much they care about him vs how much oc cares about them. he doesnt put in as much of an effort towards them as either of them (chuck especially) puts towards him

i am 100% a trent apologist tho i regret nothing i want heel best friends

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

A Mother for a Son

Summary: As Aemond leaves for a campaign at Storms End, he leaves his very pregnant wife struggle to bring their child into the world, suffering the consequences | Mini-Series Masterlist

Warnings: Childbirth, Death, Major Angst, tbh this is pure angst and nothing else to it I just like making myself sad, sorry

You hissed in pain as you tried to stand up straight, one hand instinctively resting on your lower back. A deep inhale didn't help matters either, but you felt maybe it was better than trying to soldier through the tightness. One hand was clamped around the handle of the chair, feet shuffling to go to sit in front of the fire and as you slumped into the chair, finally feeling the relief and pressure off your feet, your hand rested on the large bump on your belly. The infant inside as if feeling the touch of its mother kicked back, hurting slightly but it still bought a smile to your face.

"I wish you would not take your time, little one" you muttered, eyes wandering to the crackling fire, its heat almost soothing you through your thin nightdress. These days you had no use for heavy evening dresses, the past few weeks you had been confined to your nightdress exclusively as the pregnancy progressed to the end.

Your eyes fluttered open as your felt his hand on your swollen belly, your own lifting up to hold his arm lovingly, eyes meeting his lilac one. He looked down at you with such admiration and your heart swelled with love feeling his hands rub the bump.

He was dressed in his leathers to ride, braced for the cold that the storm outside would no doubt bring. Despite this, he knelt at your side, taking your hand to bring tenderly to his lips, peppering small kisses to your fingers, your palm and eventually on your unborn child. Your first child.

Your fingers delicately rubbed across his cheek, the only sound was the fire crackling and he wanted nothing more than to just stay with you, take care of you, for he knew how much pain you were in so late into the pregnancy.

"Must you go" you ask your husband. His eye opens to meet you again, a soft, sad look on his features.

"I must" he answered sadly, seeing your response, "I wish I did not have to, especially seeing the pain you are in, gevie ābrazȳrys"

You chuff at his words, "I do not feel beautiful. I feel like I am going to burst and every time they kick it hurts tremendously" you answer. Aemond smiled and looked back at the bump,

"Iksan qrīdrughagon, gaomagon daor ōdrikagon aōha muña, zaldrītsos" he says, making you smile.

The baby seemed to respond, a small kick appearing in his direction, earning a quiet laugh from you, "They heard you. Blood of the dragon indeed"

He seemed to linger by your side for a moment, taking your hands in his, a worried expression was clear on his features.

"I worry about you, my love. This is our first child, and you seem to be in such pain"

"Aemond…" you respond, touched by his concern. A concern that most husbands would not have for their wives. You reached out to his face, thumb grazing over the bottom of his scar. His lids seemed to flutter at your touch before meeting you again, as if in such bliss. "…my love, do not worry. Your mother has an army of midwives and she herself has had four children, I am in good hands"

There was a pause as you sat up in the chair, "Our child gives me strength, if they are anything like their father" you smile and so does he. Aemond seems to find this answer satisfactory as he leans up and gives you a tender kiss to your lips, feeling the warmth from your face on his. His hand rests on your jaw, pulling you further towards him as if wanting more, making your smile against his kiss. He pulled away and rested his forehead against yours, eyes focussed down on you,

"Please be careful" you say and he nods. He turned to leave, his hand lingering on yours for a moment before doing so, almost not wanting to leave, whether it be a small voice in his head telling him or not. He looked back once at the door, relishing the view he had before him. His pregnant wife, sat in front of the fire, smiling back lovingly at him. He nodded to you, muttering 'my lady wife' before leaving.

You felt a heaviness in your chest as he left, more in the hope that he would not be reckless once out on Vhagar. He could so often get carried away, you thought to yourself. Outside, the wind howled loudly and you could see the dark grey clouds in the sky run across the sky quickly, the rain creating rivers, you had not seen a storm this bad in King's Landing for a while. One could not tell if it was morning or evening, it was so dark with clouds.

A day had passed in King's Landing, but nobody would have known it. The storm raged on and on, the sun had yet to make an appearance and you had not heard a word from your husband. You stood at the window, hands tied together with anxiety, looking out at all the trees barren of their leaves, the wind having stripped them of their greenery. You took a deep breath, a kick from the baby landing straight on your bladder and you quickly took a seat at the window.

"Heed your father's warning, little one" you say, one hand rubbing over the large bump, remembering the way Aemond had spoken to the unborn child.

A knock at the door broke you out of this trance, Ser Criston Cole stepped in, "Yes?" you inquire.

"Queen Alicent, Princess"

You nodded and he stepped aside to allow the Queen to enter your chambers, a worried look on her features. She had her hair down as if to go to sleep but was dressed with a silk green robe over her, hands clasped together she offered a small smile which you reciprocated.

"You look tired, my dear" she said, coming to sit beside you once the door had closed. Your hand was still supporting the bump as if the weight was pulling down on you, you nodded.

"It is so, your Grace. I do not sleep at all with the weight of the baby" you answer, letting out a small groan of pain.

"I am sure the worry for my son is not helping your condition" she said, this is when your eyes met. You nodded sadly, looking out the window now.

"I worry about him, your Grace. Although you must also, I imagine. He is your son" you offer her a smile.

"Yes…" she trails off, "…I remember the day he was born. He was an easy labour, an easy child, seldom crying"

This made you smile, of course he would have been a good child. As if the gods had formed him themselves, you could only wish the same for your child.

Alicent had always been good to you and she was ecstatic to find you with child many moons ago. Of course, she already had grandchildren from Halaena and Aegon, but this time it was different, she was more attentive, almost overly so. Aemond had been the same when you informed him, excited but restrained somewhat. He often ran you baths to soothe your aching body, dressing you in moments of weakness, you could not have wished for a better and more attentive husband. His kindness astounded you. 

You went to say something, when a pain hit you in a new place, sending a shock of pain through your hips. You moaned out in pain, louder this time, clutching your thighs and leaving marks where your fingers had been.

"What is wrong, my dear?" you heard Alicent say, but her voice was muffled through the wall of blurred pain you were still experiencing. That had been different, you thought, and your mind raced with the possibilities. The pregnancy was nearing its end and this was the thought that worried you the most, your hands began to shake in fear.

"Something is wrong…" you said quietly, so hushed thar Alicent had not heard you as you starting to slowly kneel to the ground, one hand in front to stabilise yourself.

Alicent herself got on the floor in front of you so as to hear you better, one hand placed at your arm in comfort. Your hand brushed your thigh and you pulled it from beneath your nightdress to find that your entire palm was bright red with blood, Alicent was now silent, taking one wide look at your hand and then into your eyes.

Your eyes had welled up with tears, some for the pain and some for the fear, but you met Alicent's eyes.

"Something is wrong" you said more clearly now.

The wave of pain began just then and like a military operation, midwives surrounded you, setting down dark towels on the bed to place you on top. As you were laid on the bed, the pain worsened and you kept screaming out with every contraction, the midwives and Alicent attempting to calm you down without any help whatsoever.

Now, the room had filled up with a dozen people, two of which were the Hightowers huddled in the corner. Alicent's face was red with worry and he kept rubbing her hands together, speaking in low voices with her father,

"This is not usual" Alicent said to her father, he shook his head, eyes every now and then landing on you reeling in pain on the bed, "even with four children, father, I know that this should not happen"

"Has word been sent to Aemond?" he asked, Alicent nodded her head quickly, "What has been said"

"That the Princess has begun her labours"

"Good, it would be best to leave the in-depth details"

You shook your head, wanting the pain to just cease, muttering under your breath Make it stop, make it stop. You pulled yourself to your knees weakly, grasping the bed frame, being upright making the pain slightly less unbearable. You could feel the pressure of the baby trying to make its way out, this feeling remained through the next contraction.

"Where is my husband!" you scream out, Alicent is at your side immediately, holding your hand,

"He is on his way back, my dear, you are doing brilliantly" she said, you held her hand tightly. Through your blurry vision you saw Halaena had entered the room, perhaps to offer some support, but the thought left your head as quickly as it had entered as another quick contraction ripped through you like a dagger.

"I need him, I need him now. Something is wrong, Alicent…" all pleasantries of titles were thrown out of the window as the pain seared through you, like a hot poker had been pressed harder and harder into you.

"You are doing well, my dear, I know it is painful but you just have to push" she said. You swear you could hear the wood splinter as you grabbed the bedframe again, fingernails dug deep in it to alleviate the pain inside your body. The midwife sat behind you pulled your shift to your waist to examine.

The midwife slowly approached Otto in the corner, "She is not progressing quick enough, we must consider the possibilities"

Otto looked sadly at Alicent, who as if knowing exactly what they had been talking about, turned back to you, placing a cloth to your forehead, face and chest now shining with sweat.

"Listen to me, my dear. You have to push for us, okay?" she instructed, motherly instincts now kicking in.

"An eye for an eye…" Halaena said quietly from the corner, nobody having heard her, "…a mother for a son…"

"I can't…" you reply, breathless, "…it hurts…please…where is my husband…" you ask in between breaths, contractions ramping up again. You looked over to Alicent, tears streaming down your face, her look was fierce now. She knew the pain of a child, she knew how the will wavered during labour and this knowledge seemed to spur her on to support you.

"You can" she simply said and you took a deep breath, pinning your eyes shut and pushing with all your might. Various hands reached at you, some in joy at finally seeing the head of the child you had so long laboured for finally appear. You gripped Alicent's hand tightly, taking in another deep breath to push once more.

"Just a little more, Princess!"

With one final scream and push, you felt the baby vacate you and an empty feeling dawned upon you. You found you were still gripping the bedframe hard, face still shining with sweat, body still shaking.

"Congratulations, Princess. You have a very healthy boy" once of the midwives said as they cleaned your baby. You heard his cries but they never registered, you still felt completely dissociated, dizzy…

Your back met the back of the bed, finally being able to lay down after so much toil, Alicent had a sad look on her face, still dabbing your forehead, "Well done" she said quietly.

Your heavy eyes landed on the midwife next to you, who was handing you the small bundle which your weak arms gratefully took. You looked down at the tiny human in your arms, with little wisps of hair on top. The child was barely bothered about the trouble it had caused and had its thumb in its mouth, breathing quietly. You could not help but smile down at the child, your finger running over his cheek slowly, they were flushed with the loveliest colour.

Aemond would be thrilled, you thought.

You looked up to Alicent, she was craned over, doting on the child already, "He is wonderful, my dear. Well done"

You smiled weakly, eyes fluttering closed, "I feel…tired…" you say weakly. Alicent furrowed her brows, seeing your face go pale slightly and arms go weak. Her eyes found the sheets and pulled them back, only to find the entire bed soaked in blood.

"Get the maesters, now!" Alicent said, but your senses were too blurred to notice what she had said, or how you were feeling. You could not explain how you felt exactly, there was pain to be sure, but it was disappearing second by second and a warm feeling was replaced. Feeling weaker by the second, Alicent quickly took the child from your arms, your hand instinctively went to reach out.

"Where is…Aemond…" you ask, his name ghosting on your lips over and over as midwives rushed out and maesters rushed in. But you barely noticed as your vision faded, smiling as you imagine Aemond with his child.

The next few hours were a blur for the Red Keep. Alicent had confined herself to her own chambers, sitting disassociated in her armchair, the child now with the maids for care. Opposite her sat her father, Otto, who was also absent-mindedly staring into the fire. The storm had finally passed, leaving just the dark night sky behind, scattered with stars and the big bright moon.

Alicent bit her lip to stop herself from crying, fingers grasping the arms of her chair tightly.

At the door, Ser Criston, "The Prince is back, my Queen" he simply said. With lightning speed, Alicent raced up, Criston Cole not far behind, briskly walking through the Red Keep's corridors to meet her son before anyone else.

At the end of the hallway, Aemond had rounded the corner, looking wet through and heavy. He met his mother's eyes, but he seemed vacant and Alicent felt her heart panic, did he already know? She thought to herself.

She ran to her son, taking his cold hands in hers. His mouth hung slightly open as if to say something, "Aemond, what happened? You are freezing" she said hurriedly. It took a few moments for Aemond himself to have the courage to face his mother, to find the right words for what he had done…

"Mother…" he finally replied. Alicent was surprised when she found his eyes, he looked as if he was going to cry, his face was wind struck, hair still damp and his voice was barely a whisper, "…I fear I must tell you…the terrible thing I have done…" he said.

Alicent gripped her son's hands tighter, behind her Halaena had stopped to stand next to Criston Cole, this made Aemond's mind rush slightly, why were so many people anticipating his return…unless they knew.

"Do not worry about that now, let us get you warm-"

"I lost control" he simply interrupted, Alicent fell silent, furrowing her brows.

"What do you mean?"

"I was just trying to frighten him…I…." he trailed off, his eyes found the floor, a spot of rain fell down his face.

"Aemond, what happened" Alicent asked, just wanting a straight answer.

Aemond could no longer process it and fell to his knees, Alicent held his head against her as if in protection of her large son, "Luke…"

A wave of realisation hit Alicent at what he meant and she looked behind her at Criston and her daughter, Halaena was already looking down muttering to herself, a mother for a son, a mother for a son. It was only here that Alicent had realised what Halaena actually meant and her face went white as a sheet, her hand still being grasped by her son, kneeling on the floor.

After gathering some part of himself, Aemond stood finally, allowing the servants to take his soaked coat away from him.

"Where is my wife?" he asked quietly, taking a breath. There is was, the fated question. Alicent was silent again and almost stood stock still in her place before realising Aemond was walking down the corridor to his chambers, where he knew his wife would be.

"Aemond!" Alicent shouted after him, "Aemond, stop!"

Ser Criston joined in the chase, going to push Aemond back out the room as soon as he had entered, attempting to shield him from this hurt. But it had been too late.

His eyes scanned the room for a moment, there were many maesters and maids in the room before him. The maids all paused to give the Prince a curtsey before resuming their duties, before continuing to wash the blood stained sheets in the pink water before them. The sheer sight of this horrified Aemond, making his heart sink into his stomach.

Criston's hand had been on his chest the entire time, "My Prince, it is best you leave" he said, making eye contact with Alicent who was standing by the door, a sad expression on her face.

Aemond did not violently break free, but simply stepped forward into the room. His face was still, mouth slightly agape as he saw a bloodied figure laying in the bed, but still not confirming who it may have been.

The maester who was hovering over the figure turned to the Prince, "My Prince, please, we are preparing the body-"

Aemond had ignored everyone and continued over to the bed. His breath died in his throat when he saw you, his wife, the entire bottom half of the bed caked in dark blood. You lay there on the bed, eyes slightly opened and your bloodied hand reaching out for nothing, Aemond had realised now he had fallen to his knees on the floor before the bed.

"No…" is all he said, his hands shakily reached out to take your outstretched one, surprised by the still and coldness of it. He felt the hot tears begin to spill down his face as he looked upon yours, "….my love, please…"

He could not help the feeling of guilt that spread in his chest, consuming his heart. Whether he liked it or not, he had become a murderer, a kinslayer, in a mere night. He had taken away someone's son, so his son took away his wife.

He felt the desire to avenge your death, but the tears flowed quicker with the knowledge that nobody was responsible for your death, except for him. He knew women often succumbed to blood loss and infections from childbirth, but thought that because of your pure soul and the unwavering love you had for him, surely you would be exempt from such a cruel fate.

 Aemond did not leave you the entire evening until forced to by the maesters and the sisters.

How the gods could be cruel, he thought, when confined to his own room. He had not even dared look at his newborn son, fearing he may inflict some kind of doom on him also. Or maybe he feared he might push guilt onto the baby for your death. He had what any noble gentleman wanted, a son. But he did not feel any richer from this and was instead consumed by loss for weeks.

When he eventually spurred up the courage to see his son for the first time, he could not shift the ghost of your face that was visible in the child's features. He only felt empty. Like a part of his soul had been ripped from him. Perhaps this part of him would be lost forever.

Alicent never saw her son again as she knew him before.

[jetii]

the cross fic made me realize there's not enough tech angsty fanfics

how about a groveling tech trying to get femreader back like they were an item before order 66 tech broke things off, they reunite with the batch later but reader became a very sad person after all that time

an i lied because i thought you deserved better so i pushed you away situation ?

sorry if it's a long ask 😅 first timer here

I like your writing 💕

No worries! I love a detailed prompt.

Writing angst for Tech was harder than I thought it would be tbh. I think his direct communication style and self confidence make it especially difficult, so I took a slight detour here that I feel is more true to his character.

Piece by Piece

Pairing: Tech x fem!Reader

Words: 5,630

Tags/Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, allusions to torture, PTSD

Summary: Pushing you away was the logical decision. It was the right choice. But Tech never expected it to hurt so much, nor did he expect to reunite with you months after the rise of the Empire, broken and haunted by your time spent in Imperial custody. Now, he's determined to make things right.

Being in the same room as you is exceedingly difficult in a way Tech didn’t expect.

It’s been weeks since you returned, appearing like a vision from the Force to them, alive, and he still can’t quite believe it. His hands shake slightly when you look at him, his mouth goes dry. He still wants to reach out to you, hold you tight and never let you go, and it is agony to resist, to stand by your side and not be able to touch you.

You were the one who asked for space, time to readjust to being around them again. And he has respected that, despite the desperate, possessive urge to pull you back, to keep you close so you never leave his side again.

It makes it hard to concentrate. Hard to be of any use at all, really.

Tech knows this isn't healthy, the way his mind and body and emotions are behaving, but he is finding it difficult to control. He has a lot of feelings that he isn’t sure what to do with, a lot of emotions that he doesn't understand. Tech isn't one for emotional outbursts, for being ruled by his heart and not his mind. He is rational, logical, always thinking of the most efficient solution to a problem, the most practical way of doing things.

It’s what lead him to break it off with you, after all. He couldn’t afford to have his head in the clouds when so much is on the line, couldn't afford to be distracted by thoughts of you when they could be used against him.

But then you were gone, and Tech was left alone with only the cold reality of his own decisions.

He thought he had made the right choice. Thought he had been logical and sensible, thought it would hurt you less in the long run, if he pulled away. But Tech doesn't feel very sensible now, and it doesn't seem very logical that the best way to protect you would be to push you away.

You have been hurt more than enough. And even if you don't want him in your life anymore, even if you want nothing to do with him, he will never forgive himself for not trying to help.

The fact is, Tech isn’t sure what you want, but he is determined to make amends, to help in any way that he can. It might hurt, might cause him to feel pain at the distance between you, but he is willing to accept that, to live with it if that is what you need.

What he isn’t willing to live with is seeing you unhappy. And you are unhappy.

Your eyes are dark, hollow. Your face is drawn and gaunt, cheeks too thin, and when he sees you, your shoulders are slumped as though under an impossible weight. You barely eat, you barely sleep. Tech watches as you push food around your plate and drink only water. He notices how you keep to yourself, avoid talking and laughing and joking like you used to, and he hates that you have changed so much, that the Empire has taken that joy from you.

And that, more than anything, is what hurts him the most. The Empire took your light, the thing that makes you, you. They ripped your spark away and left a shell behind, and he is struggling to reconcile that with the bright and lively woman he knew, the woman who had such a profound effect on him.

"On all of us," Echo points out one night, as the rest of them watch you sitting alone.

Echo has become increasingly vocal about his feelings, something Tech is glad for. It gives him a chance to understand better, to gain perspective, and Echo has been the one to notice what Tech can't admit, the thing he isn't willing to think about, the thing that hurts the most.

You're suffering, and you're pushing them away.

At first, it seemed reasonable. You were gone a long time, and they hadn’t seen you. It made sense that you needed space.

But time has passed, and you're still not yourself.

Tech thinks back to your first night, how you flinched away from his touch, and realises how foolish he has been. He sees now how much he was hurting you, how much damage his words and actions were causing, and his heart breaks a little more.

It was never about protecting you. Not really.

Tech wanted you. He wanted you for so long, and when he finally had you, he was terrified of losing you. So, he pulled away. He cut ties, and told himself it was for the best.

Except now he has no ties to cut, no bonds left to sever. You're here, but not, and his chest aches as he watches you.

This isn't the way it should be.

Tech should be holding you, and you should be smiling. He should be telling you how much he loves you, how happy he is to have you back. He should be making sure you're comfortable and safe, ensuring that you have everything you need, everything you deserve.

Instead, he stands in the corner of the room, watching silently as his brothers try to coax you into eating, or drinking, or just saying something. Omega is the only one who is successful, who manages to make you smile.

Tech can't understand it. He tries his hardest, he does his best, and you always turn away.

And the more he tries, the more he feels the ache inside him grow, the more his feelings change, twisting and turning and growing, and he can't keep track of what's happening to him. All he knows is that the idea of losing you is the worst thing he can imagine, and the idea of being without you is becoming unbearable.

He doesn't know how much more he can take.

You've been avoiding him.

No, not avoiding. You've been staying away.

Or maybe, you've been ignoring him.

“She's not talking to me,” Tech admits one evening.

He's curled up in the corner of the cockpit, legs pulled up, head buried in his arms. The rest of the Batch have dispersed, going off to their own bunks to rest or to tinker or to read. Tech is usually the last to retire, but not tonight.

Tonight, his shoulders are slumped and his goggles are pushed up onto his head. He's been scrubbing at his face with the heels of his palms for the past few minutes, trying to work through the thoughts and emotions swirling in his mind.

You're not talking to him.

And yes, maybe it's because you're not talking to any of them, but it still feels personal.

You're not talking, not laughing, not doing anything, really. You’re just there, a shadow of your former self, a ghost.

Tech misses the woman who used to laugh and tease him, the one who could always bring a smile to his face and a blush to his cheeks. The woman who was a whirlwind of color and life, the one who lit up his world and made him see things differently. Who kissed him so deeply and passionately that it felt like his entire world was reduced down to the feel of her lips. He misses her warmth, her kindness, the way she touched him, looked at him.

He misses the way he felt around her.

He misses you.

Tech doesn't know what to do. He can't stop thinking about you, can't stop thinking about what he's done, what he could have done.

What he should have done.

Maybe if he'd tried harder. Maybe if he hadn't given up, hadn't let go. Maybe if he had listened to Hunter, had heard Echo. Maybe if he'd told you the truth, he could have stopped this.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

He sighs, rubbing at his face. He feels miserable, and it's his own damn fault. He's the one who ended things, who pushed you away. And he can't blame you for that, not when it was him who decided that you weren't worth it.

That isn't to say that he didn't care. Of course, he cared. He cares now. So much it hurts.

You are the person he was in love with, the only one. But it didn't seem fair to ask you to share his life, his world, when he couldn't promise that it would always be safe, that it would always be stable. He couldn't give you a future, couldn't provide for you the way a proper partner should, the way you deserve.

He could give you the present, but he couldn't offer you anything else.

And yet, as Tech sits here, head in his hands, he can't help but think that he should have at least tried. If he'd told you how he felt, maybe things would have turned out differently.

“I only ever wanted you,” you had told him once, and Tech can't believe how stupid he was to let you slip through his fingers.

Tech isn't used to feeling helpless. He's used to knowing exactly what he's doing, to being in control. But when it comes to you, it's as if he's floundering. He doesn't know what to do, doesn't know how to act, doesn't know what you want.

He’s tried everything, he's done everything he can, and still, you push him away.

You don't want his comfort. You don't want his love.

He doesn't understand it. You've always seemed happy around him, like his presence brings you some peace. But now, whenever he gets close, you move away. When he tries to talk, you turn your back. When he offers help, you shut him down.

Tech isn't sure why you won't accept his assistance, or why you won't talk to him. It doesn't make sense.

He can't understand, can't rationalize. And he's never felt so lost.

Tech groans, burying his face in his arms. He's being ridiculous, he knows, but he can't help the way he feels.

He misses you.

Tech misses the way your hand fits perfectly in his. He misses the smell of your hair, the softness of your skin, the sweetness of your lips. He misses the way your smile makes him feel like his heart is full, like he can take on the world, like he can conquer anything.

Tech misses the way your body feels against his. The way your fingers feel on his skin. The way your breath catches when he touches you, the way your heartbeat picks up, the way your pupils dilate.

Tech misses the way you made him feel alive.

Tech knows that he isn't worthy of your affection. He knows that he doesn't deserve your love. He's not a good man, not a good partner, not a good friend. He's not the kind of person who should have someone like you, and yet, somehow, you chose him.

But not anymore.

“I only ever wanted you.”

You said those words to him before, and they haunt him. You told him you didn't care about the risks, the dangers, the fact that he couldn't give you the future you deserve. All you cared about was him.

And he threw it away.

Tech isn't sure how long he sits there, wallowing in his misery. He doesn't move, doesn't speak. He just sits, and broods.

“Maybe she just needs time,” Echo says, though his voice sounds doubtful.

Tech shakes his head before pressing the heel of his palm into his forehead.

“She has made it clear that she doesn't wish to speak to me, or see me, or have anything to do with me."

The words sting as he speaks them. His throat is tight, and he swallows hard, trying to hold back the emotion.

"I doubt a little more time will change her mind."

There's a long silence.

Echo leans against the wall beside Tech, his arms folded. He's watching Tech carefully, his gaze piercing. Tech feels uncomfortable, and shifts, ducking his head. He doesn't like being scrutinized, doesn't like being vulnerable. He prefers to keep his emotions in check, his feelings close to his chest.

But he's finding it hard to hide them now, and his pain is obvious, even to himself.

“But she does,” Echo says finally.

Tech glances up, frowning. "Elaborate."

"She does want you," Echo clarifies, his voice gentle. "She loves you. She wouldn't have come back if she didn't.”

Tech doesn't want to admit it, but Echo has a point. If you didn't want anything to do with him, then you wouldn't have bothered to find him. You would have left, disappeared again, and never come back.

You wouldn't have risked your life for him.

Tech isn't sure if that makes him feel better, or worse.

Because it means that you do care, but it also means that you might be willing to sacrifice yourself, and Tech can't have that. He can't let you throw away your life, not for him.

Tech groans, burying his face in his hands. He's being selfish, and he knows it. You're the one who was captured, the one who suffered, the one who nearly died. And yet, all he can think about is how much it hurts.

He's been thinking about how much it hurts him. He hasn't been thinking about what you need.

"What should I do?" Tech asks, his voice small and defeated.

"Apologize," Echo replies simply.

"I have tried," Tech protests, lifting his head. "I have apologized countless times, and she does not want to listen. She doesn't want to speak to me."

"No," Echo corrects. "You've apologized for the wrong things."

"Wrong things?" Tech echoes, frowning.

"Yes, the wrong things," Echo repeats.

Tech isn't sure what Echo means by that, but his brother looks confident, sure of himself. Tech wants to believe him, but he doesn't know how. He's spent so long trying to convince himself that he did the right thing, that he did the only thing, that he can't help but doubt.

"How do I fix it?" he asks, voice quiet.

"That, I can't tell you," Echo replies. "But Tech, the first step is admitting that you were wrong."

Tech nods, letting his shoulders sag. He doesn't feel particularly good about the situation, but he's willing to try. It's not easy, admitting he was wrong. He's so used to being right, to having the answer, to knowing what's best. But when it comes to you, he has never felt so lost.

Tech thinks of the pain in your eyes, the way you flinched from him, the way you turned away.

He has to do better. He has to be better.

He has to earn your forgiveness.

"I was wrong," Tech says, his voice steady and sure. "And I'm going to make it right."

You're standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by medical supplies and overturned cots. Your face is pale, eyes wide and fearful, and Tech isn't sure what to do.

The voice of his brothers and Omega inside his head tell him you need space, but they also remind him that you need someone to look after you. That you need help. That you can't be alone.

Tech hesitates. He isn't used to this, the uncertainty, the not knowing what's best. He's never been particularly good at reading people, and even worse at knowing what they need.

He has never been more unsure than he is now.

He wants to help. He wants to take care of you, to make you feel safe, to give you what you need. But he's terrified of getting it wrong. Especially when you're standing in front of him looking like a startled animal.

You're shaking, and your breathing is fast and shallow. Your eyes are darting around the room, as if searching for something. Tech isn't sure what it is, or if it even exists. You look terrified, and Tech knows you have reason to be. The last time you were in a place like this, the Empire was holding you captive, and he can't blame you for feeling uncomfortable.

Tech has to suppress a shudder as he remembers the footage, the recordings they managed to get from the base. The screams, the cries. They haunted his dreams, and Tech can't even imagine what they did to you.

Tech wants nothing more than to run to you, to take you in his arms and promise that he will protect you. But he can't, not without permission.

Not when he isn't sure you'd even want him to.

So, instead, he stands there, watching. He keeps his distance, gives you the space you need. He's trying his best, but it isn't easy.

She just needs time, he tries to remind himself, but Tech isn't so sure.

He isn't sure if time is enough. He isn't sure if anything will ever be enough.

He watches as you stand there, your hands clenched into fists, your eyes still scanning the room. He watches as your breathing speeds up, your chest rising and falling rapidly. He watches as the panic spreads over your face, your lips pressed together, jaw tight.

You look scared, vulnerable, and Tech's heart breaks a little more.

“Cyare,” he calls out, as quiet and soothing as he can manage. You stiffen, and Tech curses himself for causing you discomfort.

He should have stayed quiet.

But then you turn, and your eyes meet his, and something inside him seems to settle.

You look so sad, so lost, and he can't help it. He walks over to you, careful and slow, making sure not to startle you. When he reaches you, he holds out his hand, palm up. He wants you to know that he is there for you, that he will not hurt you.

He will never hurt you again.

He waits, holding his breath. He's afraid that if he moves, if he speaks, you will run. So, he stands, motionless, watching as you stare at his hand.

Slowly, slowly, you reach out, your fingertips brushing his. The touch is gentle, tentative, and Tech is afraid to breathe.

Then, your hand closes around his, and he exhales.

Tech knows he's taking a risk, touching you, but he can't resist. He can't stand the thought of leaving you alone, the thought of not being able to help. He pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you. He doesn't know what else to do. He wants to hold you, to keep you safe.

He never wants to let you go.

You're shaking, your breath coming in shallow gasps. You're trembling, and Tech knows that this is a big step, that you're taking a chance. So, he holds you, and he waits.

Your body is tense, and Tech is worried that he's overstepped, that he's pushed you too far. But then, slowly, you relax. Your arms wrap around him, your head resting on his shoulder, and he can't help but sigh in relief.

The others are nearby, finishing a sweep of the facility. He should be helping, but he doesn't want to leave your side. Not when you're finally letting him be close to you.

So, he holds you, and he strokes your hair. He whispers quiet reassurances in your ear, tells you that everything will be alright, that he's got you, that you're safe.

He's not sure if you believe him, but he has to try.

He can't lose you again.

Tech is trying.

He's trying his best, but he feels like he's failing.

Every day, every hour, every minute, his mind is filled with thoughts of you.

He thinks about how you're doing, whether or not you're eating, sleeping. He thinks about the nightmares you have, the way your body shakes as you wake, pale and trembling, gasping for air.

He thinks about how his brothers can't seem to calm you, how only Omega is successful, her soft voice and gentle touch somehow bringing you some measure of peace.

Tech can't help but feel that it should be him. It should be him comforting you, not Omega. It should be him easing your pain, not his little sister.

It should be him.

He isn't sure why he can't seem to do anything right. After they left the facility, after you finally started letting him hold you, Tech thought things would get easier.

But they haven't.

You still seem so distant, so far away. You still refuse to eat, to sleep, to talk. And Tech isn't sure how much longer he can handle this.

He's frustrated. Frustrated at himself, at the Empire, at the galaxy. Most of all, he's frustrated at you. Not that he would ever admit it aloud.

You've been through a lot. More than anyone should have to go through. Tech understands that. But he can't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, if you'd been willing to accept his help earlier, things would have been different.

Tech doesn't mean it, not really. He doesn't think that it's your fault. He's just tired, and angry, and frustrated. 

And, if he's being honest, he's a little jealous.

You trust Omega. You open up to her. But you won't even talk to him.

It hurts.

Tech has spent the past few weeks trying to make things right, to show you that he’s changed. But you seem unwilling to let him in, to let him help.

It's infuriating.

Tech knows he shouldn't feel this way, but he can't help it. You were his girlfriend, his partner, his lover. And now, you won't even look at him.

He's trying, but he feels like he's getting nowhere. He wants to help, wants to be there for you. But he can't do anything if you won't let him.

“I’m not sure if this is a good idea,” Omega says, her voice uncertain. Her feet swing over the edge of the bunk across from him, and her brow furrows. “Won’t she be mad?”

Tech sighs, running a hand over his face. He knows that Omega is worried, but he can't sit around any longer. He has to do something.

"She is already upset. I'm not sure anything else could make things worse."

Tech tries to sound convincing, but the truth is, he isn't sure what the consequences will be. He isn't sure what will happen, isn't sure if this is a good idea. But he has to try.

“If you’re sure,” Omega replies slowly.

Tech nods, trying his best to look confident.

"I'm sure."

He isn't.

"Okay."

Omega pulls out her datapad and types the message. Tech watches as she hits send, then lets out a shaky breath. She slides off the edge of the bunk and hurries down the ramp, leaving him alone.

Tech waits, his nerves growing with each passing second.

You are going to hate him for this, he's sure.

But he has to do it. He has to try.

"Tech?"

Your voice is quiet, uncertain. You're standing in the doorway, arms wrapped around yourself, and Tech feels his chest ache at the sight.

You're here.

You're actually here.

"Hello," he says quietly.

“Where’s Omega?” you ask, your voice sharp. You step forward, and the light catches your face. Tech can see the bags under your eyes, the paleness of your skin. You look tired, worn down, and he hates it.

Tech winces. "She's not here."

"Where is she?"

You sound panicked, and Tech doesn't blame you. The last thing he wants is to make you more stressed. But he needs to talk to you, and this is the only way.

"She is fine," Tech says, trying to sound reassuring. "I asked her to leave."

You narrow your eyes, taking another step toward him. You're still clutching your arms, as if you're trying to hold yourself together. Tech wants to reach out, to take your hands, but he knows you'll pull away.

“What do you want, Tech?” Your voice is harsh, but Tech doesn't mind. You're speaking to him, which is more than he's gotten out of you in days.

"I, ah, I wanted to talk," Tech replies, his tone hesitant.

"About what?"

Tech swallows, his throat suddenly dry. "About us."

You frown, folding your arms across your chest. "There is no 'us', Tech. There hasn't been for a long time. You made sure of that."

Your words are sharp, cutting, and Tech can't help but flinch. He deserves them, he knows. But it doesn't make the sting any less. He takes a deep breath, trying to find the words.

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was wrong. I shouldn't have ended things."

You stare at him, eyes wide. Tech isn't sure if you're surprised, or just angry. He can't read you, not anymore. He isn't sure if he ever could. He's always felt a little bit of awe, a little bit of fear when it came to you. And now, more than ever, he feels completely lost.

"So why did you?" you ask, your voice tight.

Tech sighs, adjusting his goggles nervously. He's not sure how to answer that. He isn't sure if he even has an answer.

"I was... afraid," he admits, his voice low.

"Afraid of what?"

Tech shrugs, looking away. "Everything. The future, the war, losing you."

You don’t say anything, and Tech takes a deep breath, forcing himself to continue.

“I ran an exhaustive cost benefit analysis, and I had determined that the risks far outweighed the benefits. I could not continue our relationship knowing that I would most likely hurt you. In my mind, I needed to end things before they went any further. Before you were able to become attached.”

"I was already attached," you whisper, your voice cracking. "I was already in love with you."

Tech's heart stutters.

"You were?" he asks, his voice quiet.

You nod, biting your lip. Tech feels his stomach twist, a mixture of guilt and hope rising in him. You were in love with him. You are in love with him. And he has hurt you more than he ever thought possible.

"I was a coward," Tech says quietly. "I knew if we had gone any further, and I were to hurt you, it would have caused me immense emotional pain. And, in the process, I would have risked my ability to perform at optimal efficiency, and that would have resulted in harm to the rest of the squad."

Tech looks up, meeting your gaze. "I didn't want to hurt you, and I didn't want to put the squad at risk. But in the end, I failed at both."

You frown, and Tech can tell that you're trying to understand.

"So, let me get this straight," you begin, your voice strained. "You broke up with me, because you thought it was the best option for everyone involved."

Tech nods, his expression pained.

“That’s not for you to decide, Tech. I can make my own decisions. And, I decided to be with you. But instead, you made the decision for both of us, and you didn't even bother to ask my opinion."

“I knew that if I had discussed it with you, you would have tried to convince me otherwise,” Tech explains, his voice soft. “And I wasn't certain I would be able to resist your arguments."

You shake your head, an incredulous look on your face. "So, basically, you dumped me because you couldn't trust yourself to make a logical decision?"

Tech's shoulders slump, and he nods, his head bowed.

"That is correct. It is also…” He looks at his hands, his expression pained. “For all of my unique modifications, I am still a clone. I am still expendable. But you, you are not. You are more important. You are special." He hesitates, swallowing hard. "You are irreplaceable."

Tech can see tears gathering in your eyes, and he feels a fresh wave of guilt wash over him. He never meant to hurt you, but it seems he has managed to do just that. And now, he doesn't know how to fix it.

"Tech, no." You shake your head. "You're not expendable. None of you are."

"That may be the case," Tech concedes. “But at the time I could not see a future in which the two of us could have a happy life together. Not with the way things were, not with the risk we faced. So, I chose the safest option."

"But we could have figured it out, Tech. We could have found a way."

Tech shakes his head, his expression weary.

"I was not willing to take the risk. I was not willing to gamble with your safety, with your happiness. It was a decision I had to make. For all of our sakes."

You are quiet for a moment, your expression thoughtful. Tech can see the pain in your eyes, the hurt and betrayal, and he wishes he could take it all away. He wishes he could erase his mistakes, undo his actions.

"You made the wrong choice," you say at last, your voice low.

"Yes, I did," Tech admits, his voice quiet. "I was wrong. About a great many things."

He looks up, his gaze meeting yours.

"But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to prove to you that I'm serious, that I want to fix things."

"Why?"

"Because I love you," Tech says, his voice breaking.

Your eyes widen, and you suck in a breath. Tech can see the surprise in your expression, the shock. He knows you didn't expect him to say it, to admit it. But it's the truth. And Tech can't hide it any longer. He can't pretend.

He has to be honest. Even if it means losing you.

"I love you," he repeats, his voice stronger this time. "I always have. I've never stopped. I didn't think I was capable of loving anyone, not like this. But, you changed that." He pauses, swallowing hard. "I don't want to lose you, cyare. Not again. Not ever."

"Tech."

You say his name softly, your voice cracking. Tech can see the tears welling in your eyes, and his chest aches. He wants to take you in his arms, wants to kiss away the pain, but he knows he can't. He knows he has to let you decide. He has to let you choose.

You step forward, and his breath hitches in his chest. You're so close, so near, and Tech wants nothing more than to hold you. But he doesn't. He stays where he is, waiting.

You reach out, your hand cupping his cheek, and Tech leans into the touch, savoring the warmth of your skin. You're looking at him, your eyes searching his, and Tech hopes that you can see the truth in them, the sincerity. He hopes that you can feel how much he loves you, how much he needs you.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice breaking.

You nod, and he can see the tears streaming down your cheeks. Tech wants to wipe them away, but he doesn't move. He stays where he is, watching you, waiting. You're still staring at him, and Tech feels a flicker of hope bloom in his chest.

"I'm sorry, too," you whisper, your voice raw. "I'm sorry I shut you out. I'm sorry I pushed you away. I'm sorry for everything."

You pause, biting your lip. "I love you, Tech. I never stopped. And, I don't want to lose you, either."

Tech's heart swells, and he can't stop the tears that come, or the smile that spreads across his face. You're looking at him with such tenderness, with such love, that he can't help but reach for you, pulling you close, wrapping his arms around you, holding you tight. You melt into his embrace, your arms winding around his waist, your face buried in his chest. 

Tech can feel your tears, wet against his skin, and he runs a hand through your hair, trying to soothe you. You cling to him, your grip almost desperate, and Tech feels his heart break a little more.

You've been through so much, endured so much pain, and he was part of it. He was responsible for it. And he doesn't know how to make it better. He doesn't know how to take away the hurt, the betrayal, the fear. All he can do is hold you, and promise to never let you go.

"Cyare," he breathes, his voice choked with emotion. "You will never lose me. I am yours. Always."

And then, you lift your head, and his eyes meet yours, and Tech can't stop the surge of emotion that rushes through him. You're so beautiful, so perfect, and he can't believe how lucky he is. 

You're the best thing that has ever happened to him, the only thing that has ever made him feel alive. And now, here you are, in his arms, telling him you love him. It's everything he's ever wanted, everything he's dreamed of. And it's real. You're real. You're here. And you're his.

"I love you," Tech whispers, and then he leans in, capturing your lips with his.

The kiss is soft, gentle, filled with everything he's feeling, everything he can't say. And when you pull away, Tech's heart skips a beat, and he wonders how he ever thought he could live without you.

"I love you," you whisper back, and Tech can't stop the smile that spreads across his face, the tears that sting his eyes. He holds you tight, and the world seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you.

He's never letting you go again.

[springgirlshowers]

Hi love! what do you think about joost x reader where joost is jealous of some guy who is flirting with y/n, then joost becomes possesive and they have a fight which results in angry sex and in the end they make up????

Can’t Help It

Pairing: Joost x Fem!Reader

CW: MDNI. arguing, miscommunication, oral (f recieving), angry sex, p in v, pwp, unprotected sex wrap it before you tap it!!!!, teasing, praise, degradation if you squint, aftercare <3

WC: 2555

A/N: tbh i didn’t know how to transition into arguing to sex so i just used the classic kissing to shut the other person up, hope you like it anyways 😚

Joost had a white knuckle grasp on his drink and a clenched jaw so hard it seemed like he could crack his teeth.

“You good bro?” Apson spoke out, Joost didn’t answer, still too focused on you and the random guy at the bar. “Dude.” Apson shoved his shoulder a bit, then repeating his question.

“No. That guy over there’s being way too flirty with Y/N.” He muttered out.

“Don’t just stand there, do something about it if you don’t like it.” Apson shrugged.

Joost didn’t wanna seem like a possessive, way too overprotective boyfriend.

You were absolutely breathtaking, he knew there would be guys who would try their luck with you, only to be rejected in the end. He knew because it’s happened before. You were able to shut down multiple of them before.

But he really didn’t like the way this guy was getting close, leaning in and saying something that made you throw your head back and laugh. His blood boiled when he saw the man graze your arm with your hand, still noticing the way you moved it away a bit.

“What, like punch him out?” Joost scoffed. Apson rolled his eyes.

“Alright he didn’t say that, just show him that she’s already got someone and that he should back off.” Stuntje added in.

“Yeah.” Joost sighed, putting his beer down on the table and getting up from the booth. Walking over to you with an aggressive stride.

“Hey, having fun?” Joost said in a sweet voice, immediately wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“Oh, yeah! I’m doing great!” You grinned at him. Usually the sight of your joyful face would calm Joost down in a second, but tonight he was way too pissed for it to work.

“Oh, hey. I’m Adriaan-“

“Yeah, that’s great.” Joost cut the brown haired guy off. He pressed a sweet kiss to the side of your head, staring down Adriaan across from you. Oblivious to it, you only giggled and scrunched your nose.

“I just came over to let you know we should head home soon. We gotta get up early in the morning, remember?” He rubbed your arm.

“What? What’s happening in the morning?” You had no idea what he was talking about. From what you knew, there were no plans tomorrow at all.

“We gotta go.” Joost masked over his anger with a soft voice, trying so hard not to shove Adriaan away.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/N.” Joost so badly wanted to cause a scene at the way he said your name in such a sultry tone.

“Yeah.” Joost only said in response, turning you away and took you with him before you could respond.

You said Joosts name repeatedly as he took you outside, noticing the awkward stares from his friends on the other side of the bar.

“Joost, what’s going on?” You asked once you were outside.

He didn’t respond, instead he waved down a cab.

“Are you alright? Did something happen?” You asked worriedly, waiting for the car to arrive in front of you.

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing. We can talk about it when we get home.” He said stoically. The cab stopped and he opened the door for you, though confused by how he was acting, you still got in.

“If it’s nothing, why don’t you just tell me now?” You questioned once he hopped in the car, slamming the door, and giving the driver the address.

He was silent. He didn’t want to be another couple arguing in the back of this random drivers car. You stared at him, jaw ajar, waiting for a reaction. Nothing.

“God, fine, if you wanna act like an asshole go ahead.” You scoffed, crossing your arms and slumping back in your seat.

The ride back to your shared house was dead silent, the driver put on the radio eventually. Most likely feeling the thick tension between you too.

Neither of you spoke until the apartment door shut behind you.

“Okay, now do you wanna tell me what’s got you so pissed off?” You threw your bag on the coffee table, standing with crossed arms.

“I’m just frustrated, I didn’t like the way that guy was flirting with you at the bar.” He muttered, kicking his shoes off.

“Flirting? He was just being friendly!” You scoffed in disbelief.

“He was practically eyefucking you.” He stared at you.

“Oh my god! Is that all you think about when you see a guy look at me?”

“No! It was the way he was all over you! Did you not notice the way he was touching you?” He gestured, then walking down the hallway into the bedroom. You followed.

“He grazed my arm once. You’re being overdramatic, Joost.”

“Do you not realize how he was staring you down? He obviously wanted something bigger than being friendly.” He took off his glasses, setting them down and moving to unbutton his shirt.

“He was just being nice! I was just being nice!” You threw your arms up, “I’m allowed to have guy friends!”

“I never said you weren’t.” Joost shook his head, sliding his shirt off now, his chest fully bare and him turning to you.

“Not every single guy that comes up to me wants to fuck me! Get your mind out the of gutter.” You continued on, but before you could get another angry word out, Joost grabbed the sides of your face and pulled you into a heated kiss.

When you pulled away, you looked at him shocked and confused.

“What was-“

“Shut up, please, just shut up.” He said breathlessly, the anger in his voice was now replaced with passion and wanting.

You leaned back into the kiss, basically devouring each other as you moved your hands up his neck and into his hair.

The back of your legs hit the bed and you both fell back onto it, letting out a small giggle against his lips once your back touched the mattress.

Joost moved his mouth down to your jaw then neck, you could feel his smirk against your skin when you let out a shaky breath.

His hands moved underneath your shirt, rubbing up and down your sides, then lifting up the hem a bit.

“Please.” You nodded as he looked up at you, giving him your approval.

He removed your shirt, throwing it somewhere on the floor, then moving his lips to your chest. Soon your bra landed in the same spot as your shirt.

He gripped your breast in his palm, squeezing and playing with your nipple as he pressed open mouthed kisses to your other one. You squirmed slightly at the way his breath tickled.

“I’m still angry at you.” You groaned out.

“Yeah? I can fix that for you.” He teased, mouth going farther and farther down.

Before you could get a snarky response out, he swiftly pulled down your shorts, along with your underwear, causing you to let out a loud gasp.

He spread apart your legs and licked a stripe up your cunt, not wasting any time to please you.

His tongue got to work quickly, licking circles all around your bundle of nerves, causing you to arch your back.

He pushed at your entrance with the tip of his tongue before going back to your clit, sucking on it.

You were withering around, Joost wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you closer to him and keeping you in place.

Your legs began to shake and he knew you were close, so close, almost there.

Then he pulled away, and you were left with nothing.

“No, no, no!” You cried out involuntarily, now just sexually frustrated.

“Calm down, I’ll give what you want.” He said, chin glistening with your wetness, sliding his index and middle finger through your slick folds.

He smoothly slid his fingers inside you, letting out another moan, shutting your eyes as he curled them.

He leaned his head down to kiss you, you tried your best to kiss him back, but with the state of bliss he was putting you in, you were barely able to close yours around his.

He found it adorable.

“Open your eyes, come on, look at me.” He tapped at your face, your eyes fluttered. “I know you can do it.” He encouraged, you were able to but your eyelids were still droopy.

“You gonna cum, schatje?” He teased.

“No.” You shook your head, locking your gaze with his.

“No?” He tilted his head, staring at you with a mocking expression.

“No- oh!” You whimpered as his fingers began to move faster, hitting your sweet spot repeatedly and causing you to clench around his fingers.

You didn’t want him to stop, God, you prayed he wouldn’t stop. But your reflexes and not knowing what to do with your hands made you grab onto his wrist, but he didn’t slow down, only grinning at.

The way he smiled and kept his gaze on you helped push you over the edge, you let out a string of moans and came all over his fingers, he let you ride out your orgasm as long as he could.

Slowing down and stopping once your legs began to twitch. He removed his fingers from you and you clenched around nothing.

“Do you wanna continue?” He asked, his sweetness peeking through his dominant attitude.

“Please, yes please.” You said breathlessly, Joost gave you that cute smile where his eyes squint.

“Flip over for me, please.” He already had his hands on your waist, helping you turn over.

You got on your hands and knees, back arched and ass up.

The noise of his belt un-clicking and hitting the floor along with his jeans made you bite your bottom lip in excitement.

Joost slipped off his boxers, using the precum on his tip and giving his cock a few rubs with his hand and then against your wetness.

As he pushed in slowly, your fingers gripped the sheets on the bed, digging into the comforter.

Once his cock was fit snug all the way inside you, he peppered kisses all along your back.

He pulled out and pushed in slowly at first, letting you get used to the feeling. Soon beginning to speed up, slow thrusts turning into fast ones, deeper and a bit rougher.

His cock hitting your sweet spot over and over, you slid off your hands and laid face first into the bed, already unraveling and unable to hold yourself up.

Joost pulled you up, one arm wrapped around your waist, the other placed at the top of your chest.

“No one can fuck you like I can.” He whispered in your ear. You shook your head in agreement. “Say it. Tell me yourself.” The power trip was showing in this moment, you didn’t care, it was hot.

“No one can- oh god, can fuck me like you do.” You cried out.

“Not even that fucker from the bar.”

“Not even him. Never him. Never anyone.” You said through your moans. He shifted his hand down to your clit, rubbing quick circles.

“Exactly.” He grinned as he felt you clenching tightly around him, knowing you were about to be pushed over the edge. You tried your best to keep from orgasming so soon.

“It’s okay, don’t hold back, you can let go.” His words were the cherry on top. You let out an embarrassingly loud moan as you came, going limp in his arms, becoming a puddle.

Joost let go and let you fall against the bed, a blissed out smile on your face against the mattress.

“You’re not gonna quit on me yet, right?” He scattered kisses all along your spine. You shook your head.

“Good, now come here, schat.” He said, sitting on the bed and shifting up until his back hit the wall.

You crawled over, stopping when your face was in front of his dick, you grabbed it and began to move your fist up and down around it. He cupped your face, making you look at him.

“You don’t have to do that, liefje, just sit on it.” He rubbed your cheek. You did as he said, sitting up and hovering above him. Holding onto his shoulders as you sinked down onto his cock, letting out small squeaks and whimpers the entire time.

You began to lift and lower your hips, he placed his hands on your sides, helping you move at a steady pace.

“You’re doing so good, so good for me.” He praised, looking at your watery eyes. “You’re doing perfect.” He said through a whisper.

He thrusted up as you rolled your hips, making you let out another loud gasp at the feeling.

“Still angry at me, liefje?” He tilted his head, you shook your head, biting your lip.

“I love you.” You moaned out.

“Ja? You do?”

“Mhm.” You couldn’t keep up with his pace, you slumped against his chest, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“I thought you were mad at me? Huh?” There was still that mocking tone in his voice.

“Mm-mm.” Your eyes began to water from the overstimulation.

“Oh, fuck, I love you too liefje. So much.” He turned, kissing the side of your head.

“I love you, I love you, love you, love you, love you.” You were an absolute babbling mess, completely fucked dumb.

Tears began to fall from your eyes, the overstimulation from your two previous orgasms making you nearly see stars as you approached your third.

“Oh god, oh fuck, I’m close.” You sobbed.

“Shh, I know, I know.” He began to quicken his pace, cock hitting deeper inside you.

You let out a loud squeal into his shoulder as you came undone for the third time tonight.

“There you go, there you go.” Joost kissed, your face fell against his shoulder as you let out small strangled moans.

“Hold on for just a few more seconds, schat, I know you can.” He kissed your shoulder, his hips began to stutter and his pace became faster. With one final hard thrust he came, a warmth spreading inside you.

The both of you were now both sweaty and out of breath against each other, the room silent, the only sound being your heartbeats and heavy breaths.

Joost moved his hands to your face, cupping it gently and pulling it up to have you looking at him.

“I’m sorry I got so mad. I didn’t mean to get so jealous.” He spoke out, rubbing away the tears that had fell with his thumbs.

“No, it’s okay. I understand it now, I didn’t mean to be so stupid.” You sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck. He frowned at the negative self talk.

“You’re not stupid schatje, you were just trying to be friendly.” He leaned in to give you a kiss on your forehead. “I know not to get so angry at you next time, it wasn’t your fault.” He whispered.

“It wasn’t yours either.”

“You sure you’re not frustrated with me still?”

“No, I can’t hate you after you made me cum three times.” You bit back your smile, playing with his hair. “You’re perfect.”

“I’m sweaty.” He let out a tired breath.

“Go take a shower, freak.”

“Take one with me?”

[ghstzzn]

til kingdom come | choi jongho

pairing: choi jongho x f!reader wc: 6k

summary: being hip to hip with your new bodyguard (technically, your punishment) isn't as bad as you thought.

warnings/tags: fluff, smut, royal au, strangers to lovers, princess reader, fingering, unprotected sex, soft sex tbh, no part 2, idk if i need to add more

note: another re-upload from my deleted account yunho-mp3, if it's familiar, that is why. c:

Biting back yet another yawn, you continue to stare at the map placed on the wall behind your fathers desk. The same big, stupid map of the kingdom your father ruled and this is the fourth time you’ve stared at it this week, except this time it wasn’t for a silly meeting about your future endeavors. More like, your past ones.

“Are you listening, Y/N?” You’re quickly pulled out of your daze. 

“Huh?”

Your father sighs, straightening out his robe while your mother shakes her head in disappointment. “You are to be the lady of another land in the near future. We cannot have you acting like a child.”

“I’m not acting like a child!” You whine back. 

“Child, you will listen to your Mother.” Your father demands and you slump back into your spot on the couch. 

“This is your final warning, as I will no longer tolerate sneaking out!” Your mother begins, “You are a lady of this kingdom and we cannot have you be making a fool of yourself. You are to stay within the walls of this castle.”

You sit up once again, almost too fast for your head. “Not even the gardens?”

“Can we trust you to stop at the gardens?” Your father asks. 

You nod your head violently, sure you were upset about being pretty much locked away, but at least you had the gardens. Your safe place. “I promise.”

Your parents turn to face each other, giving a small nod of approval before facing you again. 

“Once more, Y/N,” Your father gives you a stern look, one that you should be afraid of. “Once more, and I will see to it that your marriage plans come way sooner than you want. I’ve pushed it off for your sake, but I am at my wits end with you, my child.”

You flinch slightly at your fathers threat. You had spent countless nights begging for any marriage plans involving you to be pushed back as far as possible, as you weren’t quite ready to be sold off (though your mother is not a fan of that word.) to some spoiled, ill-mannered son of a Lord who cheats on his wife regularly. They often say, like father, like son. 

“Yes sir.”

And with that you hurriedly walk off to your quarters, not wanting to stick around for any extra scoldings for whatever else you had done wrong in the past week. Though you can't hear it, your parents do continue.

“We are too soft on the child.” 

“You helped create her, my dear husband.” Your mother responds, making her way to him. She now stands behind your father with her hands on his shoulders, softly rubbing circles into his skin. “She reminds me so much of your younger days.”

Your father sighs, “My threat is no joke.”

“I know that, my love. As does she.” 

“Though, I do not wish for the outcome so soon,” your father stands from his chair, “see to it that it does not have to happen.” 

“And I’m too soft on her?” Your mother lets out a giggle, “As you wish, my king.”

“And you are?” You stand in the castle's library face to face with a stranger, a handsome stranger, in light armor. You were about to make your exit before an arm was suddenly thrown in front of your body.

“Choi Jongho, princess.” He looks down at you. Is he seriously glaring? “The queen sent me.”

“And?” You ask, with an obviously annoyed look from his vague answer.

Jongho lowers his arm and straightens out, “I’m from the kingsguard. Starting today, I am to be at your side for almost every minute of the day.”

“What?!” You almost shout from the shock.

“Orders from her majesty, m’lady,” Jongho smirks, “A few complaints about a princess not following mere rules.”

“So, what? You’re to follow me around, up my ass for the rest of my life? Did my mother really send you over this?” You ask, obviously exaggerating the terms of his commands. 

“If that’s what it takes.” He replies, “Though I’m not too interested in following you inside of any washrooms. Unless necessary.”

“It’s not. Plus, I’d command you’d wait outside anyways.” 

“Unfortunately, that is not up to you. My commands are from the queen only.” Jonghos smirk still has not fallen. “Only if you truly need my help or protection, I’m here to watch and protect. Unless of course, I am needed in any of your private rooms, my princess?”

You roll your eyes and scoff, “Gross. And to think you’re of the kingsguard.”

Your eyes glance from the book in your hands to Jonghos face. His stupidly attractive face. He only stands still.

“Every second?” You ask, though it comes out as a whine.

“Almost every second, princess. Not how I’d spend my day but I have a job to do, nevertheless.” He replies, “A punishment for both, I’d say.” 

“I am going to ignore that. And could you drop the noble terms? Not like you answer to my commands, anyways.” 

“Sure.” Jongho says, dropping all formality. (If he even had any.) “Go on.”

You give him one last annoyed glance before making your leave, hearing the soft clank of his light armor as he follows behind. Your father was sure to get an earful later.

Sat in one of the many common rooms of the castle, you read your book, glancing up at the man assigned to you as you flip each page. Though it was hard to read when you could physically feel his eyes on you at times. 

This time you look up, instead of awkward eye contact, you catch him as he watches outside the window, staring into the garden below. You couldn’t deny such beauty that he wore on his face, almost as if the gods took their special time with him. Especially his hair, you could imagine running your fingers through- what? You sigh and return your attention to your book. Not being able to focus, you decide to break the silence.

“What did you do?” You ask suddenly. Jongho turns to you, confusion evident on his face. “You said punishment for us both… What did you do?”

“Is it of your concern?” He asks in return.

The question left you quite flustered. “I just wanted to make conversation. You know, you are going to be watching me for the gods knows how long.”

“I don’t believe I’m here to befriend you.” And with that he returns his attention outside the window once more. Leaving you irritated and flustered. You mumble a few words at him before turning your body to face a different direction than him.

Jongho watches your back. He didn’t have to be rude, no, but he really did not have plans to get close to you. He was to finish this job and get back to his life and friends in the kingsguard. He can already hear the teasing from them, though it's half their fault he’s in this situation anyway.

You really hoped he over exaggerated when he said almost every second, but he meant almost every second. It had been a fortnight since Jongho was commanded to be at your side. The sun had set hours ago and he was currently guarded below your window. You technically didn’t need him in the castle at night, mostly because your sneaking out involved you leaving out the window. You would feel bad but you had seen another guard take Jonghos spot during the night for long hours at a time (you had stayed up multiple times to fact-check yourself.), so you weren't worried too much about the man.

Your days with Jongho were still slightly awkward, as he refused to hold long conversations with you, only answering most of your constant questions. At this point you did it to watch him become annoyed with you. It was payback for your first encounter and him avoiding you otherwise. 

You toss and turn in your large bed before finally sitting up in defeat. You relight the lanterns and candles around your bed and grab a book from your shelf. Plopping back onto your plush bed, you try to focus on the words of your book. With a frustrated sigh you slam the book close after one paragraph. It was moments like this you wish you could crawl out of your window and make your way to the night markets and surround yourself with the people of the kingdom. The music and lights made you feel less lonely and more alive. Or you would sit by the beach, watching the stars disappear as the sun rises, always stealing a bottle of wine from your fathers study for the trip. At least you had the garden.

You sit up from your bed and make your way towards the window, looking down to spot Jongho. You almost feel disappointed to see the other guard instead of the familiar face. Not wanting to ask the unknown guard to accompany you, you decide to just sneak to the gardens by yourself. Though it was allowed, you didn’t want to get caught without Jongho. 

You tiptoe your way through the large castle, shutting doors behind you as softly as you can. You didn’t bring a lantern, in case anyone were to be awake it’d draw too much attention. While continuing your journey to the garden, you hear a loud creek from behind you. Immediately stopping in your tracks, you turn around in a panic. You weren’t sneaking out beyond the garden, but you know it’d be hard to defend yourself when questioned by either of your parents at this moment.

When you hear nothing else, you pull your silk robe closer and turn around. You were greeted by a hard chest, before thinking you were going to scream. In an instant, a hand covers your mouth and your arm is grabbed. You look up at the figure before you start thrashing your body, only to see Jongho. Though it's dark, the moonlight through the large windows illuminates his face just enough for you to not panic.

You slap his chest and he releases his grip on you. “You terrify me!”

“Must I muzzle you?” You hold up your hands to block any further actions from the man in front of you. “What are you doing? Making an escape as soon as you saw I had left?”

“You say that as if I’m held captive.” You reply, “I’d like to sit by the garden.”

“And you were going by yourself?” He questions.

You roll your eyes and walk around Jongho, continuing your walk to the garden. “You may follow, if that's what you want.” 

Jongho stands in his spot as you make your way to the final door leading outside, as soon as you exit, he moves to follow behind. 

You inhale deeply and exhale as you find your spot on the bench. There are a few lanterns keeping the large garden lit, the rest of the lighting was left to the moon. The garden was beautiful, but you found it in its true glory when nobody was around. Silence filled the air as Jongho had made his way to the gazebo where you were sitting.

“Just can’t keep away from me, can you?” you say, softly giggling when he gives no acknowledgment to your words.

You brought your knees up to your chin and studied the way the wind softly blew against the plants. Though Jongho was silent behind you, it wasn’t as awkward as you thought it’d be. In fact, it was almost comforting to have someone so close. 

A few minutes of silence passed before Jongho spoke up. “I- well, we were intoxicated. We had two nights off and we used one to celebrate within the kingsguard.”

“What?” You look towards Jongho, confused. Not having a clue of what he was talking about. 

Jongho brought his hand up to the back of his neck, rubbing it. “You had asked, almost two weeks ago, why I called this a punishment.”

“Oh.” You giggled. “And you were drunk?”

“Too drunk,” He replies with a small smile, turning his gaze elsewhere. “We had brought it to the streets, where we were caught by some nobles of the castle. They had told the king, it was around your scoldings when they had decided to just punish me that way.”

“And the others?” 

“Ah, they weren’t the ones to bite back at the nobles.” Jongho says shyly.

You let out a hearty laugh, not expecting his reply. “Oh, please tell me you remember!”

“I don’t, not sure if that’s good. But as you know I have a slight authority issue, especially when inebriated.” 

You continue to giggle softly as you return your focus to the flowing garden, “Thank you, Jongho.”

He nods, you can't see it but he nods. Not sure if either of you knew what you were thanking him for, but there was an understanding between you both. A mutual feeling. Jongho places himself in front of the railing, leaning against it. You take this moment to study him as he is now in front of you. Your eyes scan over his casual clothing, it suited him. The loose clothing but yet so perfectly fitted where it was needed. The breeze pushed his white shirt against him, outlining his muscles in his biceps and chest, you couldn’t help it when your eyes traveled over his arms. Taking in each detail under his rolled up sleeves. Your eyes make their way back to his face, where he was looking right back at you. You blushed deeply, thanking the night as it masked the color of your cheeks, yet you couldn’t look away. Instead you gaze over his face. 

He was truly a beautiful man, it didn’t surprise you of his visuals as you have seen many attractive men. But he truly captivated you. What is such a man doing in the kingsguard? You don't let yourself think further when he chuckles and turns his head towards the garden again.

“Where did you wander at night?” Jongho asks suddenly, ripping your attention away from his face. Were you seriously just swooning over your bodyguards looks?

“The night markets,” you reply, “I bring a pouch of coins and make my way around. People of the kingdom are truly talented, you know?”

Jongho doesn't reply, instead he lets you continue talking. He wouldn’t tell you now but he’s grown to like your voice, and how you ramble. Even growing to like your purposely annoying questions.

“The food there, it’s nothing like in the castle. There are times I’ve taken recipes back to our chefs.” you continue. “Oh and Jongho, the people! It may not be of your liking, but the music, dancing and the social aspects are out of this world. How I could spend the rest of my days down there.”

“I’ve been a few times with Wooyoung, another member of the kingsguard,” He says, “the two of you would mingle greatly.” 

You smile at him, “They have animals down there too. Horses, birds and snakes.”

Hugging your knees tighter, you lay your head on your knees and let silence fall once again. You haven’t attended the markets in about three weeks, since you were caught sneaking back into the castle's gates. They only happened once a week so you always made sure to go as much as possible, it was one of the things that brought you the most joy throughout your days. The castle was boring and could be suffocating. And the weeks before meeting Jongho were just talks of possible marriages to other families if your mother were to give birth to a son soon. 

“Jongho?” He faces you, “Would you come with me to the beach? I would love to show you where else I go, if it is possible.”

“I’m unsure if this is a smart idea, princess.” Jongho replies. Though it is technically your title, the phrase made your heart warm. No way, Y/N.

You bite your lip, in search of how to convince him to go with you, or else you would have to sneak out at another time. “Oh, please! Jongho, I’m sure you would enjoy it, only for a bit?”

“And just last week you were complaining to the queen about my presence, were you not? Shall we go then? Quickly, as I am not trying to lose my job or my head.” 

You blush in excitement, but also embarrassment as you recall the outburst you had with your mother with Jongho present. You quickly rise from your spot to lead the way.

“Mother, I seriously do not understand this arrangement!” You shout across the table. Jongho was to your right, looking away in second-hand embarrassment and awkwardness. 

Your mother slams her hands on the table, “Young lady, watch your tone! The king is present, as is Jongho!”

You pout and slam your back against the dining chair.

“I have no privacy, and I feel confined to this castle.”

“We do what we must to teach you your lesson, in a few months may we revisit this conversation.” Your father steps in. “Now eat your meal. Kingsguard, that applies to you as well.”

“As you wish, our king.” Jongho replies, shyly picking up his utensils to eat.

“A few months?! Unbelievable!” You protest.

“The weather is absolutely beautiful, wouldn’t you agree?” You ask Jongho. You both had arrived at the beach after a short walk, well it seemed short. The walk consisted of small talk between the two of you, much to your surprise. You aren't so used to Jongho being responsive to you. Now, you sit in the sand, side by side but not too close. Though, a small part of you wishes he was closer to feel his body heat. Snap out of it, Y/N. He is just here under mothers commands!

“I would,” he replies, “I’ve not come here often. The sky meets well with the ocean.”

You smile widely at his response, having to look away to not embarrass yourself in front of the man whom you're not sure even enjoys your presence. 

“Say, Jongho.. forgive me if I’m being wrong, but would you tell me about yourself?” You suddenly ask. “Were you born here?”

“Ah, what is there to know? I was born here, yes, though I was orphaned at a very young age until I joined the royal military.”

You didn’t know which was more unexpected, him answering or the answer he gave.

“My.. Jongho, I apologize but you were orphaned?” You ask but with hesitance. Not wanting to overstep boundaries with him too soon.

Jongho leans back on his hands in the sand, “No apology needed. My father is a fisherman, I haven't seen him since I was a toddler. But my mother passed away while giving birth to my younger brother.”

You offer your condolences but he waves them off, “Your brother, where is he now?”

“Safe, I hope. My grandmother took him in after I joined the guard.” He replies, “she wanted to take me in too but I could not leave at that point.”

“Jongho, I’m sure my father would let you leave for them! Have you asked?”

“He’s offered, but I am content with visiting them as much as I do. I have a family here.”

“The rest of the kingsguard? I’ve seen some of them around.” He nods, you don’t push further. Leaving that conversation where it’s at.

The sun starts to peak from the horizon, and you let yourself relax into the sand. Jongho doesn’t mention the time, which you're thankful for. You needed to get out of the walls of the castle, you could understand your parents' punishment for you but you could not fight off the feelings of claustrophobia and loneliness in the large castle, making you stir crazy. 

The sun continues to rise and now it’s Jonghos turn to study you. Were you always this beautiful? Maybe he was also going crazy, his job is to just watch over you and offer protection if needed. But why is he becoming comfortable around you? Perhaps it was just your effect on people. He thinks back to what you told him about the night markets, wondering if the people there thought the same of you. He lets his eyes travel to your face and body, as carefully as he can. But quickly looks away when he feels himself get comfortable doing so.

“Thank you, princess.” He clears his throat, “for bringing me here. I’m sure this spot means well to you.”

You smile, “I hope to show you the night markets soon.”

A month has passed since your early morning at the beach with Jongho. As if a door had opened, your relationship with him blossomed. Nothing too deep but it was a start. Your conversations were longer, in fact, Jongho and you had talked for the remainder of your time at the beach and the entire walk back, even wishing each other a good night's rest. You giggled to yourself as you tried to sleep, replaying the conversations in your head like a young girl who had a crush. 

Now you even found yourselves playfully bickering with each other. Having personal jokes and even landing playful swats on eachothers arms. You have to remind yourself that he is just your bodyguard, under a punishment. But you can’t help to lean into the way you so easily open your hearts to one another. The way you helped him go from snarky and closed off to playful in just over a month or two. It was wrong but you continued to play around with those feelings. 

And Jongho felt exactly the same. He hadn’t indulged with feelings like this since he first joined the royal guard. Though he lets himself go on nights of drinking, those women are just strangers and one night stands. He won’t let him fall deep into you, or think of you in such a way. But can he really deny the floating feelings towards you? The way you make his heart softly flutter when you giggle or whine his name when he teases you. Jongho lets himself melt into all the deep, late night conversations and the inside jokes. When you rest your head on his shoulder at the gardens as you read, he should be pushing it off and reprimanding you, asserting that your relationship is nothing but business. Bodyguard and princess. 

But it couldn’t hurt, right?

Tonight you were bringing Jongho to the markets. It took so much convincing and pleading but he had agreed nevertheless, and you couldn't even contain your excitement when he did. You learned he hadn’t been in months which only excited you more. You had waited until you were sure your parents were asleep, and the guards had switched shifts, which some included Jonghos fellow kingsguard mates. 

“You know your way out of the gates very well. Must I tell the king?” You tease as soon as you both walk towards the city.

“Ah yes, make it a point to mention how we were hand in hand as we escaped the treacherous castle walls!” He replies with dramatics. You lightly smack his bicep in response.

“You suit such casual clothing, Jongho.” 

“You noticed. Shall I wear them more often when meeting you, princess?” He asks, linking his arm with yours.

“You flirt!” He only lets out a laugh, one that makes your heart flip right into your stomach. You pull his arm closer to you and he studies your face. The smile on your face grows wider as you arrive at the market.

You pull him along as you point to various stands, telling him how you have to visit them all while he tells you to slow down. You first stop at a food stall, grabbing a snack as you walk around the stalls selling merchandise. 

“Try this on.” You shove a necklace into Jonghos chest.

“I-” 

“I command you!” You cut him off. Knowing that you technically can’t, but he follows anyway.

Jongho slips the necklace and he swears your eyes light up. You clap your hands together and smile. “That's the one! Oh, Jongho, you must see yourself.” 

You slip the shop merchant gold, ignoring Jonghos complaints and you tug him to the next stall. 

After getting through half of the stalls, you and Jongho sit at a table near the courtyard where people were dancing and singing as a band of bards played their songs. You were both nursing a mug of beer each and sharing a plate of various foods from nearby stalls. 

“Is this not delightful?” You ask him, head resting on your palm.

“I have to say my favorite part so far is the music.” He responds. 

You sit up straight and take a sip of your beer, “you like music, Jongho?”

“Of course. My mother had said I have a good voice.”

“You must show me soon.” You perk your head when you hear a new song, and grab Jonghos hands. “Let us dance.”

You're pulling him up before he could fight against you, dragging him into the crowd of people. Pulling his arm up above your head, you twirl under him, bringing him to laugh at your action. You can’t say for sure that you're both the best dancers in the crowd, but you know for a fact that this is the most fun you've had at one of these markets. You're giggling into his chest everytime he moves you a different way or makes a remark about you or another couple dancing nearby, making Jongho blush up his neck.

After taking a small break to finish your drinks and eat more, you were both back in the crowd, dancing and talking. The night was ending soon, as you saw some merchants packing up their stalls already. The bards start a slow song as if on cue, and Jongho gives you a knowing look while you smile slyly at him. “May I have this dance, my princess?”

You nod eagerly, placing your hands on his shoulders while he places his hands only slightly above your hips, softly gripping your hips. Slowly swaying back and forth to the calmer music. You look around and notice there were now fewer people and merchants were bidding their goodbyes to guests. 

“I'm curious.. No one has mentioned your name here, Y/N.” Jongho suddenly speaks up, “They know you, correct?”

“I assume that they don’t, or it is just a mutual understanding. Though I was only caught because someone had recognized me.” You reply. “The people here are uncaring of status.”

He nods and brings you closer, resting his chin on your head. You couldn’t even hide your blush if you tried, so you were thankful your face was hidden.

“I must thank you, princess. This was a good experience for me, and I am glad it was with you.” 

You don’t respond, you only continue the small movements in your bodies, sighing in content. Your heart has been beating at a fast pace since you started dancing and you can’t control the blush that spreads across your cheek every so often. There’s a sad tug on your heart when you silently wish you could take whatever this is a step further. Fully accepting your feelings for the man all while accepting whatever he felt and that it could go nowhere. Not just because he could not feel the same, but because of your statuses. 

You look up as soon as you feel a few water droplets hit your shoulders, Jongho must’ve also felt them as he was also looking up. He lowers his head to yours and you both laugh. The sprinkles turn into light rain but the two of you stand still, searching for answers in eachothers eyes.

“Jongho, I…” The words stuck in your throat. But it’s as if he reads your mind when Jongho leans down, eyes on your lips, tongue darting out to wet his own. You push up on your toes and he beats you to it, landing his lips onto yours. 

Softly pressing his lips into yours but holding your body close to yours. His grip on you is tight like he is afraid you’ll disappear so suddenly. You both pull back, eyes wide but full of love, triggering Jongho to connect his lips to yours again, but with more passion. Molding your lips with his as his hand travels to the back of your head, the other on your lower back. 

He pulls back first this time, leaning his forehead against yours. “Let us go home, princess.” 

You nod and let him take the lead. Smiling to yourself and your hand remains in his until you reach the door to your quarters.

“I bid you a goodnight.” He says, cupping your face in his hand.

“May I suggest you come in? I’d want nothing more than for you to be at my side tonight, Jongho.”

Jonghos eyes dart back and forth between yours. You slowly slide into your room with him in your hands, but before you're halfway in, he crashes his lips onto yours. The kiss only gets deeper when he leans your back against your now closed door, hands traveling down to your hips as he tugs you closer to him. 

“Princess, you must not tempt me.” He says in between kissing you, bringing a hand to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss.

“Let us be selfish tonight, as I don't know when I can get you next.” You respond, out of breath.

“I will allow myself to you every day, and every night, Y/N.” His lips ghost yours, “I am yours for as long as you need. But tonight, do you want this? Are you sure? I only assume you know so much about this.”

“I trust you, Jongho. I trust you with my heart and body, as much as you are mine, I am yours.” And with that he is latching his lips onto yours again. Jongho hooks his hands under your thighs, commanding you to jump and you do so. He walks you to your bed, setting you down softly and moving his hands behind you to untie your corset, not letting his lips leave yours longer than a few seconds at a time. 

Not beforelong, your corset is off and thrown to the side. Jongho works on untying your dress as he leaves soft kisses down your jaw and neck. He lifts his head, staring into your eyes as he slowly drags your long dress off of your body. Leaving you only in your stockings and panties. You lift your arms over your breasts, almost as an immediate response, not helping but feeling slightly insecure. 

“Don’t, my angel, for you are beautiful.” He says, moving your arms down to your side again.

You reach up and tug on his shirt and he chuckles, “for you.” He pulls up his shirt and tosses it behind you somewhere. 

Jongho softly lays you back, connecting his lips with yours for a brief moment before traveling them down your neck, softly sucking on your sensitive spots, eliciting soft breathy moans from you. He brings his lips down your breasts, softly cupping one in his hand as his mouth kisses around the nipple on the other. Latching his lips onto your sensitive bud, he brings his thigh up to your center, offering you some friction. 

You gasp and bring your hands up his hair as he sucks and kisses your nipples, slowly switching between the two every now and then. Jongho then sits up and slowly slides each of your stockings off.

“Beyond gorgeous,” He softly says, “And so ready for me. How I could never forget this moment with you.”

He hooks his finger under the hem of your underwear, dragging them down at a painful speed. You grip his arm, “Please, will you kiss me.”

“I couldn’t deny you if I tried.” Jongho lays his lips on yours again, almost with more force but never too rough. You don’t even realize your panties are completely off until you feel his fingers at your core, gathering your slick and bringing it up to the aching bundle of nerves. You can only moan and buck your hips into his hands at the sensation. 

“My sensitive princess..” He coos. 

Your moans come out as quiet whines as he massages your slick, gathering more of your arousal as he continues. Jongho latches his lips to your neck once again, leaving love bites up and down your neck and chest, making sure to massage your breasts as he continues to bring you to your high. 

You almost jump as he inserts a finger into your core, slowly pumping in and out as you adjust to the foreign sensation. He brushes against your most sensitive spot as soon as he adds a second finger, causing you to moan louder than intended. You could only hope the walls and doors are as soundproof as you imagine. 

You gasp when Jongho lays his thumb against your click, rubbing as he pumps his fingers in and out. It was more so to prepare you for him but you can’t hold back the warm feeling in your stomach as he scissors his fingers and slightly speeds up his pace. You continue to let out breathy moans, thighs shaking as the warmth spreads. 

“Ah- Jongho, keep going,” you moan out, “I think- I-”

Before you say more, your back uncontrollably arches as you let out your loudest moan yet. Jongho rubs the side of your thighs with his free hand as you ride out your orgasm on his fingers. Your thighs start to force themselves closed. Taking it as a sign, Jongho removes his fingers and brings them to his lips, sucking the juices off as you watch in awe. 

“So sweet, as expected from my princess,” he whispers before kissing you once again, “my love, are you ready for me?”

You nod your head quickly, “Yes.. Yes! Jongho, please.”

Jongho kisses you again, cupping your face with one hand as he frees himself of his pants with his other. He lines himself up at your entrance, giving you one last look before entering himself in your warmth. 

Pain travels through your lower half as your grip onto his bicep and your sheets. 

“Jongho..” You cry out.

He shushes you softly and latches his lips to yours, and you desperately kiss him as he bottoms himself out in you. You deepen the kiss as he pauses his movements inside of you.

“M-move, please.” You plead in between kisses. 

Jongho moves his hips at a soft and slow pace, making sure you adjust well. He’s well aware it’s your first time being intimate, so he holds himself back with so much restraint from himself. He grips your waist and grabs your hand with his other, pinning it above your head and he speeds his thrusts up, enough to make you moan but never rough.

Your soft moans only encourage him to quicken his pace. 

“Jongho, please, faster.”

“Are you sure, my love?” He asks.

“Please, yes. Just more.” You moan out. 

His thrusts hit harder and deeper, the only noises heard are your moans and skin slapping. 

“My princess, you have no idea what you do to me,” he groans. “How I could fuck you all night.”

He grabs your waist and lays a hand on your lower stomach, rubbing your clit with his thumb. You almost scream out and arch into his hands. The heat in your stomach returns, but hotter and stronger. Your brain fogs as your eyes slam shut, not being able to voice what was happening. You let it go and cum onto Jongho, who was more than pleased with this outcome. He only speeds up to chase his own high, which comes soon after. After a few thrusts, he quickly pulls out, pumping himself with his hand before releasing his seed onto your stomach. 

He says kneeling, arms caging you in as you both catch your breath. You grab Jonghos face and pull him in for a final kiss. 

“Let me fall in love with you.”

[bokutosbabe]

I Can Fix Him (no really, i can)

a / n — this is his song and you cannot convince me otherwise

content — otoya eita x fem! reader, cheating eita (canon i fear)(kinda on reader), nicknames such as ‘princess’ and ‘pretty’ used, tbh delusional reader (me too tho), ooc eita (this man wouldn’t change for anyone really), lmk if i missed anything!!

synopsis — Otoya Eita has a reputation for cheating, leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake. When he starts dating you, everyone warns you it'll end the same way. But you believe you can change him, convinced your love is different.

✿.｡. “ but your good lord doesn’t need to lift a finger, ” .｡.✿

The whispers started the moment you and Otoya Eita made your relationship public. "He's a cheater," they said. "He'll break your heart just like he did to the others." But you were determined. You saw something in him that others didn't, a man who just needed the right type of love to fix him.

Everyone’s mutterings of “god help her…” when you told them that you were dating eita only gave you more encouragement. You’d prove them wrong, you could fix him- you really could.

Eita wasn't just a star player at Blue Lock; he was also notorious for his charm and the string of girls he left behind. Even in elementary school he had kissed 75% of the girls and 50% had confessed to him!! (with a bowl cut like that, you weren’t sure why,but lest we forget).

Yet, when he was with you, he seemed different. More genuine, more vulnerable. You could fix him. Maybe to anyone else this would seem like a project you were doing, but really, you could change this man.

It was a rainy afternoon when the first real test of your relationship came. You had planned a quiet evening together, but Eita was late. Very late. Your phone buzzed with a message from a friend:

Saw Otoya with another girl at the cafe. Be careful.

Your heart sank, but you pushed the doubt aside. This was your chance to prove everyone wrong. You didn’t need their mutters for a savior to keep your feelings safe. You didn’t need to prove them wrong, really their opinions should’ve meant nothing, but you wanted to. Eita wasn’t like that, you thought.

You called him, your voice steady despite the strange doubt you’d had building inside of you. After the third ring he’d finally picked up, and before he could even say hello you were interrogating him, "Eita, where are you?"

"I'm on my way," he replied, his voice casual, almost too casual. As if he’d been preaching this same lie to every girl he’d had waiting on him for the longest time.

When he finally arrived, you could see the raindrops clinging to his hair, his usual confident and cool demeanor slightly off. "Sorry, I got caught up with some team stuff," he explained, avoiding your eyes.

God help you.

You took a deep breath. "Eita, were you with someone else?" He paused, then met your gaze, his eyes clouded with something you couldn't quite place. You’d had many talks with him about lying. all you wanted from him was the truth.

“Well…yeah. but she’s just a friend, really.” The old you would have believed him without question, but now you needed more. You’d been together for half a year now, and this conversation had happened twice too many times. "I need you to be honest with me, Eita. If we're going to make this work, you have to let me in and be the only girl you’re seeing. or else this isn’t going to continue.”

For a moment, he looked like he might argue, but then his shoulders slumped. "I don't want to hurt you. But I don't know if I can change. It's who I've been for so long." To anyone else, it may have sounded like a lame excuse, but eita had never said something like this to you before. the look in his eyes was something that no one could deny: guilt.

You reached out, taking his hand. "I need you to meet me halfway in this relationship. We can fix this. No other girls, and i’ll stop talking to anyone else.” (you hadn’t been talking to anyone, but you wouldn’t let eita feel like you were his judge, jury, and executioner)

Days turned into weeks, and the effort was exhausting. There were moments of doubt, moments when you wondered if you were fooling yourself. But there were also moments of tenderness, of breakthroughs. Eita began just waving to fan girls instead of flirting with them. He’d stopped winking at waitresses in order to get a discount. This was progress, you’d thought.

You were scared he’d mess this up, prove you a fool to everyone you’d cared for. But you wouldn’t give up. Not on this relationship, not on helping eita fix this streak of cheating, not on eita in general.

The road was long, and the whispers never truly stopped. But every day, you and Eita took another step forward. It wasn't perfect, and there were setbacks. But there were also victories, small moments that proved love's transformative power.

And as the seasons changed, so did Eita. The boy who once broke hearts now cherished yours, holding it with a care that made all the struggles worth it. Because in the end, it wasn't just about fixing him. It was about growing together, finding strength in each other's flaws, and building a love that was uniquely yours.

✿.｡. “ i can fix him, no really i can…or maybe i can’t ” .｡.✿

likes , comments , and reblogs are always appreciated!!

[moremaybank]

STUCK WITH YOU — j.m

day three reluctant friends to lovers with jj maybank

pairing mechanic!jj maybank x fem!employee!reader

summary working at jj maybank's body shop is no piece of cake when your boss clearly has it out for you. one day, the two of you get trapped in the supply closet, and you come to find out that he doesn't hate you at all. in fact, it's the complete opposite.

warnings 18+, unprotected sex, pussy eating, fingering, creampie, squirting, lamguage, jj calling himself daddy (as he should tbh), jj being an ass in the beginning

obx week ‘23 masterlist ;; jj masterlist

JJ had a reputation as the brooding mechanic who always seemed to be in a foul mood. His garage was known for its exceptional work, but he was equally renowned for his gruff demeanour. And it only seemed to worsen around you.

You, on the other hand, were his polar opposite. Friendly, efficient, and a vital employee in the auto repair shop. You were always bringing baked goods for the staff, buying cakes for their birthdays and giving them gifts when you come back from vacation. The customers loved you as well, always laughing and engaging in conversation. You were all sunshine and rainbows, things that JJ lacked severely.

Then, one hot summer day, fate intervened, locking the two of you in the cluttered supply closet at the back of the garage. The door jammed as it always did, and despite your best efforts, it refused to budge. To make things worse, it was just you two that day, everyone else being blessed with the day off. So here you were, stuck in a confined space with your boss who could barely stand to be around you.

"Great, just great," you muttered, frustration bubbling up inside as you jiggled the doorknob one more time.

"This is all your fault, you know. Everyone knows this damn door jams if you don't keep it open," JJ snapped. "I knew you should've taken the day off like everyone else."

"Tough, JJ. I don't care that I have to work under your glare for eight hours. I need the money."

"But I told you I didn't need the help. Now we're stuck in here for god knows how long, with no cell service or anyone to hear us for miles," he replied. "The universe must love me, 'cause I always dreamed of spending quality time with you in the storage closet."

Your jaw clenched at his sarcasm, but you weren't about to let him get the upper hand. "Trust me, the feeling's mutual."

The tension between you was palpable, and neither of you could deny that there was an undeniable chemistry lurking beneath the surface.

JJ paced back and forth, growing more ticked off by the second. "Why can't things ever go smoothly with you around?"

You crossed your arms, matching his glare. "Oh, please, as if you don't thrive on chaos."

He shot you a scathing look. "I thrive on fixing things, not dealing with your constant attitude."

"Well maybe you wouldn't have to deal with my attitude if you were just freaking nice to me."

JJ remained silent, his eyes darting away from you as he scoffed. He refused to take the bait. His patience had already worn thin, and the warmth was getting to him. So he slumped against the door, staring down at his boot clad feet.

Minutes turned into hours, and the heat was taking its toll on you both. JJ had undone the top half of his coveralls, leaving him in a white wife beater. His skin was clammy, and so was yours as you stood there in your buttoned t-shirt and work pants. You were far past dehydrated, and you tried to fan yourself with one of the folded paper bags you'd found on a shelf.

Suddenly, something shifted. JJ stood up, walking over to where you stood and running a hand through his tousled hair. "You know, I hate being locked in here with you."

"Gee, thanks."

He let out a sigh of exasperation. "Every day, I come into this garage and try to act like you don't make me want to pull my hair out. But being stuck in here, with no way out...it's making it damn near impossible to not act on my feelings."

Your heart skipped a beat, his confession hanging in the air. You weren't sure of where it was going, but you could see the vulnerability coming through.

"So, what? You're gonna stab me in the carotid with a screwdriver and put us both out of our misery?"

Your attempt at a joke to lighten the mood only frustrated JJ further. "Why does everything have to be so difficult with you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that I want you," he spoke. He took a step closer, invading your space as his eyes met yours in a way that sent shivers down your spine. With a low voice, he continued. "I can't keep pretending, Y/N. I can't keep pretending that I don't want to be more than your boss. That every time I see you I want to rip your clothes off and make you scream my name in front of everyone that works in my damn shop."

You found yourself speechless, the weight of his words sinking in. It was a side of JJ you'd never seen before; vulnerable and raw. You'd always known that he was attractive, but seeing him like this...it was sexy.

"JJ, I..." you started, your voice trembling.

He closed the distance between you, his lips hovering just inches form yours. "I can't keep pretending," he whispered.

Maybe it was the heat or dehydration that made you hazy. Maybe it was all the pent up desire you'd felt for him all along. But in that moment, you made a choice. Your lips met his in a searing kiss that was long overdue.

JJ's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss. His hands slid down to your ass, groping you as you tugged him closer. Your teeth clashed, tongues stroking against each others as you finally let go of your control.

"You're gonna be sweating for an entirely different reason by the time I'm done with you," he rasped, hands finding each side of your shirt and ripping it down the middle. The buttons popped and flew in several directions, and you let him tug it off and cast it on the ground. His tank top was the next to go, followed by your pants and what was left of his coveralls.

JJ turned you around, your back facing him as he kneeled and yanked your panties down. He spread your ass cheeks wide, stretching your pussy into his view. He licked a stripe from your clit up to your ass, already tasting your arousal. He then dove in, feasting at the pussy he'd been dreaming about for months.

You cried out for him, your hands finding the shelves in front of you and gripping them tightly. "JJ, fuck."

He hummed into you, showing you that he was enjoying it as much as you were. His fingers found your clit and he started to rub circles into it as his tongue fucked your entrance. You were dripping down his chin, as he worked you up more and more. He drew your orgasm from you swiftly, his skilled tongue working wonders on you.

When he stood up, he spun you around once more and roughly pulled your bra down, exposing your tits. "I could cum just by looking at these, princess."

You blushed under his intense gaze, and pulled him in for another kiss. His hands found the backs of your thighs and he urged you to jump. He walked over to the door and pushed your back against it, and used one hand to shove his boxers down.

"I don't have a condom," he said.

"Then fuck me raw." His cock jumped at your words, and you gave him a smirk, knowing he wanted this just as bad as you did. "I've waited long enough for you to make your move. 'M not waiting any longer."

"Your wish is my command, pretty girl."

He slammed into you, his hands steadying on your hips and pulling you down to meet his thrusts. He pushed and pushed and pushed, hitting your g-spot over and over again. He was so forceful that the door shook with each movement. Your hands were clawed in his hair, your head thrown back against the wood as he fucked up.

"That's it. Take it. Take my cock like a good fucking slut," he grunted. "Dick's so good you can't speak, huh? No more attitude for me?"

He was taunting you and you knew it. He was so deep, filling all your senses and making your head fuzzy.

"Tell me you like it when I fuck you like this."

"I l-like it, J. So fucking good like this," you mewled. "Right there, JJ. Don't stop. Please don't stop."

"Knew my girl liked it rough. You want more? Want me to make you cum?"

You nodded furiously, and JJ smirked. He went harder, raising your legs up and above his shoulders as he drove into you. Your skin was raw, stinging with each pound of his hips.

"So fucking tight I'm gonna bust," he said. Your walls clenched at his words. "Yeah? You want my cum in this sweet little pussy?"

"Yes, JJ. Yes. Cum inside me, fuck. I’ll take it all."

"I know you will. Gonna do whatever daddy wants, right?"

You cried out, your nails digging into the back of his neck. Your legs were trembling, and you felt your release cresting deep inside you.

"Cum for me. Right now," he ordered. "Right fucking now."

His words and actions hit you like a brick, and so did your release. You were screaming for him as you came, your eyes rolling back as the pleasure flooded your senses.

"There we go. Finally listening to me, huh?"

He kept going, trying to reach his high and overstimulating you simultaneously.

"So fuckin' tight," he gritted out. "You know how many times I fucked my hand, pretending it was you? Cumming to your staff picture?"

Your core fluttered at the thought of JJ getting off to you in secret. Had he really wanted you this entire time?

"Give it to me, J. I want your cum in me. Wanna be yours. Give me your cum," you begged.

JJ kissed you hard, and after a few more thrusts, his seed was shooting into you. You felt the gooey warmth inside you and you were delighted.

He carried you to the chair in the corner of the room, kneeling before you and sliding two fingers deep inside. They curled against your g-spot again harshly, making your legs feel like jelly. "I want one more, baby. You're gonna give me one more."

"J, no. Gimme a break for a sec, I can barely breathe."

"That's the point, princess."

His fingers fucked you harshly, and his tongue lapped at your swollen bud. He shook his head side to side, slurping at you and moaning into you like a man starved. The vibrations overwhelmed your clit, and combined with the work he was doing on your special spot, you were putty in his hands.

Your hands held his face to you, and your thighs squeezed his head as you ground against his mouth. You bucked them furiously as you chased your next high.

"That's right. Use me. Use my mouth just how you like it," he spoke against your core. His words died in the air before you came, your juices gushing out of you and drenching his chin and chest.

"Oh my god, fuck!"

JJ withdrew his mouth from your cunt and he leaned up so he could kiss you. He continued fingering you, pulling juices from you like you were an overflowing fountain.

"Mm, keep going princess. Keep squirting for me. I want all of it."

"You're so gr-greedy," you panted out.

"Just makin' up for lost time."

JJ TAG LIST (JOIN HERE!): @pankowperfection @oncasette @taintedxkisses @mvybanks @wildflwrdarlin @rafesveryrealgf @dreamingwithrafe @maybankslover @goldenroutledge @penny4yourthoughts @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @maybank-archives @whoisdrewstarkey @aliyahsomerhalder @vigilanteshitposting @poppet05 @adoreyouusugar @f4ll-for-you @bbycowboi @rafesdirtyslut @venomwh0re @jjmaybankisbae @enhypens-hoe @loverofdrewstarkey @earth2starkey @angelofcigs @glen-powells @papillonoirsworld @em0-b0ysworld @koalalafications @aerangi @cantstoptheimagines @bloody-mf-bsc @maybanksbabe @sarah5462 @slut4drudy @lvvrgrl @dancinglikeaballerina @somerandos-world @shahanaazsoumah @peachpitlover @sya-skies @julesmendoza890 @emmalandry @blueicequeen19 @madelynie @jeyusosgirl @urbestieboo @payton-dixonreader @l1lactheflower @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @gillybear17