#I wasn’t in a good mental state and wasn’t able to write at all

[ladypeonies]

"Acting is a dangerous profession."

credit.

Some people will watch this extract and just brush if off perhaps as fanservice and miss the point completely. What I like about Chris and Xuan it’s how candid and honest they are about the whole process.

The host says it all, “acting is a dangerous profession,” and both actors agreed. She’s right. So many fans don’t get it, and they focus on the superficial. It’s not just a dangerous profession in Asia. In my opinion it’s more challenging there because most of entertainment industries in Asia rely a lot on Method acting and immersion. You have notice how they call themselves by their character names, on and off set and it has several purposes. I won’t dwell on them here because this post would be too long.

And you have method acting which I have several issues with. It’s basically psychology. I’m not going to write an essay on it here, it basically means one can convince themselves of anything and you can become anyone you want. It’s becoming someone else entirely for a time, by changing your habits based on your environment. You study a character and become them, by assuming their point of view, mannerism, state of mind etc. If they drink you start drinking, if they love someone you love them too etc. Some actors are strongly against method acting for a reason and stick to use their imagination which is way safer. In a live Xuan talked about how physically and mentally it impacted him.

You are still yourself but you can’t escape your character, their emotions bleeds into you. And you use it to play the best version of them by using your body. Of course, Xuan fell in love with his co-star and had all those “evil” thoughts. He learned to fall in love with him and make him the centre of his universe. The preparation for the role, to build a bond took longer than the whole filming.

So, any actor in their shoes will feel the same, if they say no well, they are either lying or just bad method actors, that’s it, no in between.

The trick is to use those emotions while filming and then to be able to let them go. And that’s the issue, because for many it takes time to do so and get rid of them. Notice how Xuan doesn’t say while they were filming NC scenes he had evil thoughts but he was sitting there, so before or even after. The thing is if you hold on to those emotions it can hurt your mental health. They can be addictive. Under those circumstances sometimes there is a co-pendency which appear between actors. I remember an actor explaining how he basically went through a heartbreak because he got attached to his co-star who was engaged to someone else and he was full of emotions for his on-screen partner. And those emotions weren’t there before they started filming. And they knew each other, they were friends before and he never felt that way about them. And his mind knew they weren’t a good match but he kept longing for them.

I talked here about the bubble actors found themselves in. And the best remedy to get rid of those feelings, thoughts are a healthy distance, and being back to oneself. I hear often, “they’re just acting, it’s their job…” etc. Actors aren’t robot. There is a process to play a role and they all have a process to get out of a particular challenging role. Obviously, all roles aren’t the same.

Another thing: Chris and Xuan are friends and were friends but under the circumstances, they don’t have the same friendship they had before filming, the one from a year or two years ago. Friendship 101 had specific boundaries, and now there are new ones in friendship 201. It’s not possible to know the taste of your friend’s mouth, their skin, and be in the same exact friendship. Actors are not robots there isn’t a reset button. Now there is a new set of boundaries. Perhaps before there wasn’t any skinship now because there are use to each other touch, there is more skinship. Before they wouldn’t talk about certain subject, now they can. I believe they gain and also lost some things. The only possibility MAYBE to go back to friendship 101 would be a complete separation for weeks, reset. But it’s not happening because there are promotions and also, you get use to seeing each other all the time, I guess.

Now method acting and falling in love, it happens of course, but has to go through the test of time and distance.

One has a girlfriend/boyfriend and start method acting with a co-star LOL. 9 out 10 people will break up with their significant other, the GF or BF will leave, it happens all the time.

PS1: I also took the opportunity to answer a couple of asks.

PS2 :Translation by Wava please be kind to your translators and grateful for the work they do, I personally hate translating it can be so taxing.

#unknown the series #unknown bl #chris chiu #kurt huang

[muffindaddystyles]

Y/N is jealous of Harry’s new date, and the realisation took years to rain down upon her and Harry.

warning: sad jealous angst, mentions of fever, screaming and crying, heartbreak inspired from Taylor Swifts “All too Well”.

..

The dewy glow of Luna melts into her skin, twirls into tight notches upon her heart ever radiant than the beat of the small organ stitched into her chest as she watches the shadow of two figures dancing in the big window of Harry’s house. She reminisces the times they’d do the karaoke nights in their silly loose pyjamas and jam around his house like wild geese in the middle of night; he’d stuff his nose with popcorns to entertain her and had the goofiest smile etched across that clean beautiful face of his upon dragging out a laughter from his bestfriend.

His bestfriend. His ride or die. His cuddle stuffie. His partner in crime. His proud person. His soulmate. His Y/N.

Harry’s a firm believer of, “Your soulmate could be anyone. It doesn’t have to be your significant other always. For me it’s you Soapie.” He told Y/N when they were 19. On the rooftop of his mother’s house when they smoked a joint for the first time in their life. The clank of hollow bright red bricks was all it was heard as Y/N was about to trip from the slope of roof from the surprise itself and had their asses busted. Anne grounded both of them in one house which meant more of a disaster than anything else.

Her chapped lips whisks up into a smile as her glazed upon eyes reflects with the ghost of memories walking near her with every second of music getting louder and their giggles getting merrier.

It was that call. On her yellow coloured telephone. Wednesday, 12 A.M. End of the June. The violet swirl of clouds danced chaotically in the sky.

“Y/N what’s your favourite place to go out on a date to?” He asked, “What? Why? Our usual, why?” Her confused sleepy voice alerting her brain about the fishy-ness of the moment.

“Do you prefer me in suits or comfy clothes?” That made her stomach all squirmy. Tickles of an emotion unknown to her made her all giggly and shy. a school girl getting asked out on a date to her favourite Arcadian by her hot-shot crush.

“Comfy…, now tell me what’s it?” She all but smiles bashfully taking quaint deep breathers to prep herself for what’s about to come next.

She could hear his grin from the other side of phone, her supple fingertips scratching the yellow plastic cord of the phone in anticipation and her bottom rosy lip bounces from matching his grin.

“It’s a date–“ He sputters out and she cuts him off excitedly in true Y/N fashion,, “You’re asking me out on a date!?“

Those were never dates. They used to hangout for hours and hours more like practically living with each other and never without each-other but not dates.

You can call it whatever friends want to call it.

“Oi. I took you out on enough dates. This’s with the girl Florence introduced me to––“ She cut him off again, “…but you never told those were dates…” Sad pout pillowing atop her mouth, her brows meeting in a bewildered frown and her grip around the nip of her sleeping maxi looses from where she was holding it atop her thigh out of sheer excitement.

“Is she prettier than me?” Her eyelashes wets. How pathetic of her. She thought. From where these feelings of eerie jealousy and envy’s coming from? He has dated many girls before, but why now? Was it because he asked for her opinion that she figured it out he’s serious about whoever this person is? Or was that she’s entirely so in love and now raw to her feelings than before?

She can’t explain it at all.

Harsh slam of plastic against plastic echoed into her room as she put the end to the call and the concerned, “Y/N are you okay muffin?” rusted between the poor connection was all she heard in his caramelised soothing voice.

Today after two days of that heartbreaking call. Y/N walked to his house to show him that him going out with other people doesn’t effect her, she’ll be the same Y/N for him she was previously .

If it couldn’t be more painstaking before it’s now as she watched them in his house. Her hands shakes holding a container of glazed warm cinnamon rolls Harry loves to eat and her feeble cry weaves away along with the cold gust of wind as the first droplet of summer rain falls and dribbles down her neck making her numb to any kind of feeling rather than getting out squeasy airy laughs out of her.

The rain pours down at her infuriatingly, humming down the loud shaking sobs that suffocated her chest making her feel like a small cricket being drowned into a muddy splash while it’s in search of its home. The container of cinnamon rolls falls at Harry’s doorstep. the music halts to nothingness as the thunder roared against his windows and Y/N squeaks running back in the heavy rain from where she came from.

..

When Harry opens the door. His chest echoes with a sharp sound of a m drag, that of a knife stabbed in between two ripples of his rib-bones. A fallen container never seemed more sad than a fallen star and he looks over his shoulder to see the girl sleeping on his couch, a red scarf that of Y/N wrapped around her neck and a rush of guilt oozes in every of his pore. The urge to ask for it back politely surges inside him and the realisation settles deep inside the pit of his stomach.

He needs to see, Y/N.

..

On the other hand Y/N’s sneezing like a weasel train. High on fever as she caught cold. Trying to make a soup with a broken heart. The heart shaped note of a how to make a berry cake scribbled in Harry’s writing makes her paralysed in her spot, eyes wide awake with pools of sadness in them and the round plate in her hold falls and shatters against the floor as if the moon got split into two halves revealing a sky that of blankness.

His sweet disposition. His sweet care. His heart always making a home for her. All gone leaving Y/N alone.

She never thought she’d be here at 3 A.M curled into a ball feeling small on her kitchens yellow floor and the recall of memories eating her whole.

Clothes still soggy. Hair sticking to her neck. Body stinging against the coolness of tiles as she stares the the slight of refrigerator finding the blue light horrible and vexing to her core.

She screams. Shrieks practically like a sour bratty kid with her aching throat only to gasp into quit when her flats door clicks shut, accompanied by a worried booming voice of him.

“Y/N!? Soapie??” He rushes to her. On his knees in just seconds infront of her and his intestines pulls into itself when he sees the paleness on her, the dead glimpse of her eyes.

“Y/N – are you okay? I’m askin’ you–“ He bends over her to meet her stoic gaze, slithering his strong arm under her neck to sit her up and curses out loud in vexation when he finds her burning, “Fo’ fucks sake are you fuckin’ mad?” He scolds her, gasping in surprise when his knuckles brushes up her cold soggy dress.

His jaw falls apart. Arms in air. When her clothes made a smacking noise against his fully dried ones. Her elbows nurses around his throat as she pulls him down into herself, her cries fusing behind the sweet spot of his ear.

“Hey baby. Shhhh it’s okay yeah…?” He croons. Petting her wet hair lovingly and soothingly. Scooting her caringly into his lap and hugs her back, ever so tightly and warmly. No space for even a string to let through.

“I love you Harry. I’m so sorry. I love you.” In that moment every ounce of air sucks out of his lungs and all that’s left is the jelly softness of affection for his Soapie.

“S’okie if you don’t love me back– but b–…” She hiccups gasping a saccharine yelp as a red scarf muffles around her shoulders and she’s pulled close to his face where he could admire her as much as he wants.

“Couldn't you have said it before you silly?” He giggles. His thumb caressing her bottom swelled up lip and he doesn’t leave her to answer, levelling her head high that of his Queen and flowers his mouth against hers in an endearing kiss full of love.

“Oh me Soapie. You dunno how much I prayed to ‘ave you as my soulmate forever.” He confesses into the kiss and that just makes Y/N cry more.

There’s still so much to unfold. So many feelings, hurt, love and buried emotions of years but one thing’s sure that;

The pretty spotted Luna is evident of their loving confessions.

#im sorry if this turned out shitty lol I popped out of blue after ages #I wasn’t in a good mental state and wasn’t able to write at all #im trying to do what I love and I hope y’all like it too :) #harry styles #harry styles fanfics #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry angst #harry styles angsty blurb #harry styles angst fanfics #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagines #drabbles

[hyperfixationstati0n]

Peace

An: I’m a tiny bit feral right now so this is very lovey dovey fluff. I hope you enjoy because i loved writing it

Pairing: Spencer x gn!reader

Content warning: Honestly none. Prob the fluffiest thing I’ve written.

Word count: 804

Summary: Spencer comes home from a long case and is very clingy. 

This case made for the new record of how long you and Spencer had been away from each other since you got together- exactly 17 days, 6 hours, 15 minutes, and 4 seconds. Not that he was counting. (He was)

As he leaned back on the plush seats of the jet, he couldn’t even focus his brilliant mind long enough to read a book. He had his head leaning on one of his hands, staring out the window, and subconsciously counting down the seconds until you were in his arms again. Most everyone else on the team was either asleep or too preoccupied with their own things to notice the giddy grin on his face or the vague blush across his cheeks. All but JJ. It didn’t take a profiler to see the heart eyes he had just thinking about you. But as much as she wanted to say something, she just couldn’t bring herself to disturb the peaceful state he seemed to be in. After such a long and harrowing case, she was just glad to see that her friend had found some sort of peace-you. 

By the time he does show up at your shared apartment, it was long past the time you would have usually gone to sleep. So, he very slowly unlocks the door and steps in, trying to be as quiet as possible, until he hears motion from the direction of the bedroom. You were already in pajamas and had been sitting up in bed waiting for him, not being able to sleep from the sheer excitement of seeing him again. You rush over to his larger frame and gently cup his face in your hands, almost inspecting him to check for damage. You knew that his soul was weighing heavy, but he wasn’t going to open up about it now. Secretly, he was a very quiet man. It was the same every time he got home. He went from the young genius, who could ramble on for hours and hours if you let him, to your very quiet and soft-spoken partner. He just needed you, in any and every way someone could need another person. He had yearned for the softness of you, the way your lips gently brushed against his as you held his face. The way your fingers brushed through his long hair, raking it from his hairline to the back of his head. The way your arms enveloped him in the warmth and comfort he hadn’t received in weeks.

Slowly, you start leading him back to your bedroom. He was so clearly exhausted, physically and mentally. It was silent between the two of you, but it was comforting. You both had this unspoken language between you, you knew exactly what he needed. You help him take off his tie, unbuttoning his work shirt. Once it was off and neatly put aside, you slid your hands over the smooth skin of his shoulders, down to his chest. It was a chaste act, like you want to commit him to memory after he had been away for much, much longer than you’d like. He sighed, seemingly letting out a breath he had been holding in for lord knows how long. His head dips, his soft pink lips falling to the top of your head. The room was dark, only the small lamp by your bedside lit. It illuminated you both as you ran your fingers along his face, down to his collarbone. 

By the time you get him down to his boxers, he’s basically half asleep in your arms. You both silently decide that was good enough as you guide him to your bed. As he lays down, he immediately settles into the soft foam and pillows. It was much more comfortable than the tiny motel bed he had been sleeping in for almost 18 days. You pull the covers over you both, and he seems to immediately cuddle up to your side, his face nuzzled deeply into your neck. His warm breath fanned over your skin, which was weirdly comforting. You turn your head to press a final kiss to the forehead of your already drifting-off boyfriend, in the now completely pitch black of your room.

“Love you.” You mumble into his skin, relishing in the feeling of his arms around you as your own eyes closed.

“Love you…” He hums, feeling one hundred percent peace.

He would finally get the night of sleep he needed, where he didn’t have to worry about being woken up at any hour because another body was found. (Well, one could hope at least.) And you would finally get the night of sleep you needed, where your hearts seemed to beat in sync and you finally didn’t have to worry about his safety-because he was right there in your arms.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fluff

[wososcripts]

Tell Me of Your Grief

Stina Blackstenius x Reader

Summary: The fourteenth of March brings back some rather difficult memories, and you don't always make the healthiest decisions. Stina intervenes.

Word count: 4.4k

A/N: sorry it's been a while, I've started uni again which means my writing is somewhat slower! With some luck I'll be able to get things up once a week? But that remains to be seen... I promise this is hurt/comfort and not just pain btw.

Warnings ⚠️: discussion of death, self harm behaviors (mild), angst angst angst

------------------------------------

You woke up that morning to a text from Jonas saying you didn’t have to come to training. 

It felt weak to admit it, but part of you was relieved. You knew Katie must’ve talked to him, which was mortifying if you let yourself think about it too much, but she knew you needed this day to yourself. 

It was the anniversary of your best friend’s passing—five years in the making. You hadn’t told many of your teammates what happened, or why you became so withdrawn and somber the week around the 14th of March. It was too difficult to explain. All of the dramatics that surrounded the event, the pain, what you had done wrong, what she had too, it was all still too delicate for eyes you didn’t completely trust. 

You hadn’t even told your girlfriend Stina yet. You’d meant to, really, you had, but the days slipped by and there never seemed like a good time to do it. You knew it would ruin any good mood you were in, and honestly you enjoyed having Stina as your respite when the rest of the world seemed to be knocking against your skull. But it felt wrong that she didn’t know. It felt as though you were hiding something from her, even if it wasn’t intentional.

“Hi baby, I’m not feeling well today so I won’t be at practice. Don’t worry your head when I’m not there. It’s nothing too serious, though, so I’ll be back tomorrow.” You spoke into your phone, recording a voice note to send to her so she wouldn’t be left in the dark about where you were. 

Stina was a worrier, something you yourself could understand, so you always made the effort to let her know if you were running late or not going to something. Otherwise you’d inevitably get a call with her anxious voice on the other line. 

It was early, too early for even Stina to be up. The sun had barely begun cresting over the horizon, casting a slight glow to everything. You wanted to go back to sleep, particularly since you hadn't slept all that well to begin with. Your back hurt from being tensed all night as you were plagued with anxious dreams. On your palms were the remnants of nail indentations—some of them bloody from how hard you had been pressing.

You turned on a podcast and closed your eyes, hoping the sound of human voices would lull you to sleep. It must've worked for a little while, because the next time you opened your eyes it was truly morning, and the podcast had switched to another episode. 

The dreams had continued, unsurprisingly considering your waking mental state, and the extra hour of sleep you might be able to get if you closed your eyes wasn't worth it. So you got out of bed, throwing on a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt to go for a run. 

You weren't typically a runner—in fact you were practically ethically against doing it as a hobby—but it was useful for clearing your head. And with no training today, it would feel good to get out for at least a little while. So you blasted your music and took off into the streets of London, completely lost in your own world. Nobody spoke to you, nobody looked at you. 

By the time you had finished, you were sweaty, red-faced, and exhausted. The endorphins began to flood your system as you stripped and started the shower. You turned it almost as high as it could go, hoping for the burn against your skin. You hissed, stepping under the spray, and tears sprung to your eyes. Your skin immediately began to redden. But you didn’t move to lower the heat, instead grabbing your shampoo, gritting your teeth, and bearing it. 

—

“Morning, Blackstenius.” Beth called, clapping her on the back soundly as she wandered into the locker room. 

Stina expected to find you there, sitting by your locker getting changed into your kit and reading your book as you always did, each morning. But you weren’t there. Your locker hadn’t even been touched. She furrowed her brow, then remembered that you had sent her a message earlier. Maybe you had asked her for a ride and she hadn’t seen? Maybe you were going to be late today? Maybe you had some kind of appointment you’d forgotten about until the last minute—you were notorious for that. 

“Morning,” Katie said, sitting down next to Stina on the bench and pulling her kit out of her bag. 

“Morning, Katie.” She replied, opening her phone to look at her message. 

She brought the phone to her ear, confusion and concern filling her chest as she listened to your voice. Though your words weren’t all that worrying, she could hear in your voice that things weren’t right. 

“How’s she doing?” Katie asked, having heard your voice coming from the phone. Her voice was cautious, something unusual for the Irish captain.

“Did you know she wouldn’t be here today?” Stina asked, confused as to why Katie seemed to be clued in to your mood before her. Maybe you had sent her a similar message? She was your best friend, after all. The two of you made a ridiculous pair—her loud and aggressive, you nearly silent and composed—but you’d known each other longer than anyone else on the team, and everyone knew Katie would do practically anything for you. 

Katie was quiet, glancing around at the other girls in the room. Now Stina was worried. Even though you had told her not to be, that it wasn’t anything serious, she couldn’t help it now that Katie was acting so strangely. 

Once it was just Stina and Katie in the locker room, Katie answered her question. 

“Listen, it isn’t my place to tell you anything. You know how private she is…” Katie sighed, rubbing her temples. “I can’t believe she didn’t tell you, probably didn’t want to worry you, the idiot,” she mumbled under her breath to an increasingly concerned Stina. 

“Katie.” Stina said firmly, “What the fuck is going on?” 

She wasn’t usually one to swear. But where you were concerned, the possibility that you were hurting, and had hidden it from her, that warranted much more than cursing. 

“Today is difficult for her, very difficult. That’s all I feel comfortable saying. But if you want to go, Jonas is going to understand.” 

Stina’s heart was in her stomach. Images flashed through her mind, a thousand different horrible things this could mean. 

"Difficult?" She questioned, "Katie, is she safe? Do I have to be prepared for—"

"It's not like that, she isn't in physical danger." 

The answer wasn't reassuring to Stina, who now felt a little ill at the thought of you home alone today. She should be there with you. Someone should be there, if you didn't want her (God, she hoped you wanted her, trusted her). The urge to press more information out of Katie was strong, but Stina held herself back. Katie was right—you needed to tell Stina yourself. Otherwise any insight into your head would be forced entry, a violation of the trust you had both with Katie and with her.

So Stina simply nodded and looked back at her phone to reply to your message. 

Okay, I hope you're feeling all right. Can I swing by later and bring you something? I'd love to see you <3

She wanted to give you an option to say no to her visit—though she would prefer to just go over there now. At least now if you didn't answer before she showed up she could say she had reached out.

—

You waited until the water ran cold to get out of the shower. Your skin was raw to the touch, and still a subtle red color after you had dried yourself off and began braiding your hair. You could hardly stand to look at yourself.  

You threw on the only clothes you could stand on your skin—a pair of soft sweatpants and fuzzy socks—along with Stina's old Häcken hoodie she left at your place a few days ago. It smelled of her which comforted you even if she wasn't here. 

Your phone dinged with a message. Upon opening it, you saw Stina and Katie had messaged, and that you had two missed calls. 

"Eat something." Was all your message from Katie said. 

She knew you, and knew you wouldn't want to eat today. But you had to.

You went to open Stina's text when your phone lit up with another incoming call. It was from Sandra, the mother of your friend. She did this every year, and every year you told yourself you wouldn't pick up. It wasn't healthy for either of you—it reopened wounds that were barely scabbing over as it was. She inevitably cried, and asked why you had left her daughter alone that night, and you bit your lip raw trying to keep quiet and apologize.

But even though you knew the script, you picked up the phone. 

"Hi," you said, your voice noticeably smaller.

You heard a sigh of relief on the other end.

"How are you, Sandra?" You continued, your fingers picking at your lip anxiously. You felt it start to bleed and did nothing.

"Are you still in Limerick?" You continued your flood of questions, waiting for her onslaught to begin.

A few minutes later, once you were on your tenth question and you'd switched from your lip to pressing your nails into your bloodied palm, you heard her begin to cry.

You weren't sure how you managed this every year. Memories of the funeral flashed behind your eyes, and how you hadn't been allowed to stand near the front with the rest of the friends and family. How Sandra had wailed, and smacked you across the face in the parking lot. You stared at your kitchen backsplash and just listened.

"Why, why did you do it?" She cried, and you bit the inside of your cheek.

"I'm sorry." You whispered. 

"You left her alone, you killed her, you always brought her home expect that one fucking night and look what happened. It should've been you, it should've been you, you don't deserve this—" 

And so it continued. Tears streamed down your face as your brain began to shut down as a defense mechanism. You just felt numb. Nobody else existed in the world except for you and this woman whose life you had ruined. No Katie, No Stina, Nobody that gave you their love and wanted you here. You didn't deserve what you had, not your success where it should've been your friend's, not your team, not your girlfriend. You were an imposter on this planet, a thief.

—

It turned out that going over to your place wasn't as simple as it seemed. Stina tried asking Jonas if she could be excused from practice, but he insisted that she stay just for an hour. Arsenal had a match with the Spurs in four days and Jonas wanted to go over strategies with the forwards. No skipping. 

So Stina stayed—looking at her phone every thirty seconds for a text from you. There was nothing, and it freaked her out even more.

Whatever Jonas was saying, none of it was registering. She would ride the bench if she had to, it didn't matter to her now. Her leg bounced nervously, and Viv looked at her with concern on her face every couple of minutes. When Jonas went outside to take a quick call, she turned to Stina and immediately asked after her.

"What's wrong, is it something with Odi?" 

Stina nodded, her tight lipped expression telling Viv all she needed to know. She gave Stina a look of sympathy and glanced at her watch, clearly wondering when the meeting would be over as well.

"Odi, something's wrong with her?" Beth butted in unabashedly.

You'd gotten the nickname for a few reasons: you'd danced for years as a child as a ballerina, which showed in your play. You were showy, and graceful, not the aggressive type. Like a swan, someone had once said to you—and the swan lake association stuck: Odette, or Odi for short. Arsenal's dancer.

Jonas re-entered the room before Beth could ask any more questions, saving Stina the struggle.

"For Christ's sake, let the poor girl go," Beth called out as Stina checked her phone for the hundredth time.

Jonas sent a look Beth's way, but decided to be merciful.

"Alright, Blackstenius, you're excused. But I'll be seeing you tomorrow."

Stina practically ran back to the locker room, throwing her kit into her bag and getting changed as fast as she could. A steady sense of dread was building in her. She decided to call you as she left the training grounds and walked to her car, hoping she could catch you and tell you she was coming. It would soothe her mind just to hear your voice.

But instead of your voice on the other end, Stina was met with the busy signal. That confused her even more—you weren't a fan of phone calls necessarily, and she knew your parents would be working now, so it was unlikely they would have called you.

She tried once more, hoping she had just happened to catch you at the tail end of a call, but you still didn't answer.

—

You had barely hung up the phone with Sandra before the tears began to pour from your eyes. It was as though time had made no difference and you were hearing of your friend's death for the first time. All the pain, all the self loathing that had fallen down upon you then still crushed your shoulders with its weight.

Your phone dinged again—a message from Katie.

Respond to me or I'm coming over there myself.

You didn't want Katie here. She had been there in years past, and for her to see you no better despite the time and therapy you put in, well you couldn't handle the shame.

I'm alive and well - see you tomorrow at training

You replied, knowing if you told her you were fine and left it at that she might kill you herself. 

You giggled at the thought of her huffing and puffing at you, demanding you take better care of yourself like a surrogate mother. When your mother wasn’t around, Katie did a damn good impression of her. You never got away with anything if Katie had a say. You laughed through your tears, feeling like every nerve of yours was on a razor's edge. 

A knock at the door barely registered in your mind as you wandered over to the couch, wanting nothing more than to curl up in a ball and waste away for the next twelve hours. Your head was beginning to hurt from all the crying, which only soured your mood further. For the first time you had the thought: I don't want to be alone.

You thought it must’ve been a hallucination, the way Stina appeared in front of you. 

—

Stina wasn’t sure what to expect when she knocked on the door of your apartment. She had spent the entire drive over worrying about how she could find you, partially cursing Katie for giving her just enough info to get her mind going in a million unhelpful directions. The fact that you weren’t texting her back hadn’t helped either. The road before her blurred as she drove without thinking, her body getting her to your apartment building on instinct. 

The elevator dinged at each floor and with it her heartbeat increased. 

When you didn’t answer the door it dropped. 

“Hello?” Stina called out, having opened the door with the spare key you had given her a few months ago. She cursed herself for not staying with you last night when you looked so weighed down, so tired. She’d let you convince her you were fine—something she wouldn’t do again anytime soon.  

When she turned the corner from your kitchen into the open space of your living room she spotted you. There you were, curled up on the couch in a small ball, silent. 

“Did you hear me knock?” She asked softly, approaching you.

You didn’t reply, didn’t even look at her. 

She slowly reached out a hand to place it on your head gently, when you turned and looked at her. It frightened her—the look in your eyes. She hadn’t ever seen them so empty. 

“Stina?” you whispered, confusion present in your tone. 

“Yes, min kärlek, jag är här.”

She put a hand softly on your face, cupping your cheek.

“You’re really here?” 

There were tears beginning to gather in your already red eyes. Stina felt her throat constrict. You’d been crying, clearly a lot by how swollen your face was. 

Stina pulled you up and into her arms easily, shifting you so she could sit on the couch with you in her lap. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked gently, remembering that you had said once that hearing her speak her native Swedish calmed you down. 

You wiped your eyes, lip still trembling slightly. 

“Did Katie say something? Or Jonas?” 

Stina wiped your cheeks with the pad of her thumb, brow creased with worry. 

“Katie said today was hard for you, that’s it. Promise.” 

You went silent, thinking. 

“I was going to tell you. I promise, I meant to. But it just never seemed like a good time, or I just wanted to avoid it as long as possible…you see, Katie met me not long after it happened, she was there, it’s different. I didn’t trust her with this and not you on purpose. She can’t help but know.” You shifted off of Stina’s lap, curling in on yourself next to her so your skin wasn’t touching.

“I hate myself for it. I do, really. And every time I tell someone, they might hate me too, I know that. And I just couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t give you the chance to hate me.”

Stina put a hand on your shoulder, biting her lip to contain a small sob when you flinched away from her. It was as if you weren’t even there in front of her. All of the grace and kindness and light that had been there just a few days ago seemed to have been swallowed by darkness. To hear you say the words ‘I hate myself’? Stina could cry at the thought of it. Those were words that should never come from your mouth. It was like a knife in her ribcage. 

“Min söta… älskling”

“Don’t call me that,” you sobbed, putting your hands over your eyes and hiding your face from her. 

"Snälla, låt mig hjälpa dig, please, I want to help.” 

You shook your head, face still obscured from Stina’s view. 

This was horrible. Stina felt as though she’d eaten something rotten the way her stomach churned. She was helpless, completely in the dark. Here she was, the person who was supposed to take care of you and love you, and she could hardly do anything. All she could think to do as you cried quietly was pull you into her side and rock you slowly. A melody popped into her head—one her mother had sang to her as a child when she was ill. 

Stina softly sang, trying not to feel embarrassed by her voice. You were beginning to calm, your hands dropping from your face to her shirt, holding it close. By the time she was finished, the room was quiet, empty of your cries. You were clinging to her, your face buried in the crook of her neck as if you were ashamed of the comfort you needed. 

“What was that song?” you asked, voice hoarse. 

“It’s a lullaby. I can’t remember the name.” 

Stina felt you nod against her skin. 

She opted not to say anything further. You were exhausted, she could tell. Anything you wanted to say, you needed to volunteer. 

After a few moments, she felt your grip on her shirt tighten. 

“When I was nineteen, my best friend died.” 

Whatever Stina had been expecting to come out of your mouth, that wasn’t it. She sucked in a breath, trying to remain unaffected. You needed her strength. 

“We had been friends for years, since we were kids. And we’d gotten in this huge fight over something… uni I think. I had an offer to play professionally. I had been drinking, so had she. And I always walked her home, always, when she had been drinking. The way to her house was a bit sketchy, you know? So I figured two people were better than one if anything happened. But the things she said to me that night… I’d never been so upset in my life.” 

You took a breath, 

“So I refused to walk her. She didn’t press, just turned up her nose and walked away, didn’t even say goodbye. And I waited for my bus. The next morning I get a call from her mum—she’s been killed.”

Stina could barely trust herself to breathe. 

“I let it happen, I’m the reason she died.” 

“No—” Stina began, but you cut her off. 

“When they held the funeral, I wasn’t allowed to say anything. I wasn’t allowed anywhere but the very back of the church, because they all knew it was my fault. And still, they know it, they remind me of what happened, what I’ve done. I stole her life!” 

“Stop!” Stina demanded, her face flushed with anger. You were taken aback by her passion, and quieted. “You did not steal anything, you didn’t kill her, it isn’t your fault!” She grabbed your hand as you pulled back from her. 

“You lost your best friend in such a horrible way, and nobody checked in? Nobody held you?” 

You opened your mouth to speak, but this time Stina silenced you.

“I want you to tell me what you mean by ‘they remind you’ of what happened.” 

You refused to meet her eyes. 

“It’s not good. Not for me or her… she calls me, my friend’s mom, to talk.” You hesitated, but explained the routine to your girlfriend when she fixed you with a look. 

“That’s…” Stina seemed at a loss for words, “you are the strongest person I know. And you rake yourself across hot coals for a crime that isn’t even yours. For a woman who wants to see you suffer, who can’t accept your healing. That isn’t right. You did not kill her. That is someone else’s burden to carry.” 

You burst into tears again. 

—

You must’ve fallen asleep at some point, because the next time you wake up you’re in bed, and Stina is wrapped protectively around you. Her warmth encases you; she holds you more protectively than usual, her arms shielding you from the world. 

Eventually the two of you get back up, though not before Stina wraps you in a crushing embrace and lets you know she’s staying for a couple of days. No negotiating. 

She makes dinner, you clean. It’s the first time you’ve eaten all day, and you think she can tell by the way she watches you intently. You feel cared for, and it’s a little overwhelming. Stina doesn’t let you out of her sight save a few trips to the bathroom and one brief call from her sister that she has to take.

You didn’t expect things to shake her up so much. 

She helps you clean the wounds on your palms, grimacing at the sight of them once you unfurl your fingers for her. You try to tell her you can deal with them yourself—especially with how much it seems to upset her—but she isn't having it. You see her set her brow and concentrate on cleaning and bandaging the damaged skin, tears only glazing her eyes as you hiss in pain. 

Eventually you convince her that you're fine enough to settle down on the couch and watch a movie. She insists on having you in her lap—something that you find equally as comforting. Stina isn't typically all that tactile, but now each moment apart from you seems to worry her.

You're about halfway into the film and slowly drifting off into her chest when you feel her whisper something into your skin. You think she assumes you're asleep (and you nearly are) but you make out her voice slightly.

"Tack Gud att du är här." She repeats it, and soon you can feel the drops of her tears hitting your shoulder. 

"Stina…" you whisper, repositioning yourself to face her.

"förlåt" she says, wiping her eyes.

"You don't have to be sorry… It was an intense day." You press a kiss to her cheek.

"I was so worried," Stina starts, and you figure it's best not to interrupt her, "when Katie said that you might be struggling, I couldn't think of anything else. You can't hurt yourself anymore, please." Stina takes your bandaged hand.

"If you were gone one day, I don't know how I'd cope." 

"You don't have to worry about that, ever."

"You are the most important thing in my life." Stina's lip trembles, and you wonder how you're managing to keep it together.

You pull her into another kiss, lips sore from how you had abused them earlier. The pain reminds you of the struggle of the day, but Stina's hand holds the depths in front of you at bay.

"I'll always be here." She promises.

You begin to think of something lighter. Of an ounce of forgiveness. Of a year that does not revolve around the rising and setting of the sun on this one day. A moment of peace afforded to yourself. The thought passes your mind—you do not deserve this. You instead think of love.

#woso x reader #stina blackstenius x reader #stina blackstenius imagine #woso imagine #woso fanfics #stina blackstenius #woso #woso community #arsenal x reader #swewnt x reader #my writing #i hope this satisfies some of the stina girls #and happy new year (belated lol)

[brittanymoura]

her smile

azriel x reader

summary: Y/N is having a rough time, Azriel doesn’t know how to help her... until he does (angst, friends to lovers, Archeron!reader).

word count: 3k

warnings: grief, despair

a/n: I swear I have not abandoned ‘the heir & the emissary’. I’ve been going through some personal stuff lately and haven’t had it in me to write lately until this idea sparked my inspiration. I’ll be getting back to that story soon.

————

The corners of his mouth ticked up as he looked around the room and saw nothing but smiles. It was a cold night in Velaris and the inner circle was gathered at the townhouse enjoying a relaxing night together, filled with liquor and laughter. It had become increasingly rare that everyone was able to get together like this.

“I can’t believe Y/N’s finally coming home tomorrow. Definitely wasn’t expecting her mission to keep her away for so long.” Mor stated, gaining the rooms full attention.

“It’ll be awesome to have her back, it’s been a bit lonely without my partner in crime. I’m excited.” Cassian exclaimed, “though probably not quite as excited as Az.” A smirk overtook his face as he turned toward his brother.

Azriel scoffed, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, but was ultimately unable to keep the smile from spreading across his face.

He had missed her terribly. He missed her infectious laughter, her shining eyes and the way she never failed to make him feel seen. But most of all, he missed her bright smile. The one she saved just for him. The kind of smile that lit up a room and always reached her eyes. It never failed to make his heart flutter. From the moment he met her, the eldest Archeron sister had whittled her way into his heart and had quickly become his closest confidant. The two had become inseparable and the way she so easily slipped into the empty spaces of his life, making him finally feel whole, never ceased to amaze him. Despite the trauma she had suffered, she always remained the bright sunshine capable of lighting up his dark world.

“Yes, well none of us expected the clean up efforts to go on for quite so long,” Rhys handed a freshly filled glass to Azriel as he took a seat on the couch beside him, pulling Feyre into his lap. “When I originally asked her to lend her gifts to aid those in need, I only thought she’d be gone a few weeks. Certainly not a few months.”

Before anyone else could speak on the topic, the air seemed to ripple around them and Lucien stepped out of nothingness. He wore an uncharacteristically grim expression and his hair seemed disheveled, as though he has been nervously running his fingers through it. Azriel was immediately on edge.

“I’m glad you’re all here because I need to talk to you,” he stated.

“Lucien. What brings you here tonight? I thought you were meant to be picking up Y/N?” Rhys raised one brown in question.

“That’s what I need to talk to you about. She’s-” Lucien set out a long sigh. He turned to the cabinet and pulled out a glass, quickly popping open the nearest bottle and filling the it. “She’s… well I’m not really sure how to explain it.”

“Okay, you seem stressed. Take a breath and then tell us what has you so bothered. Is Y/N okay?” Feyre sat up in Rhys’ lap, the tension of the room beginning to escalate. Her oldest sister has always been her anchor, keeping her grounded. Through thick and thin, any problem Feyre had she always knew Y/N would be there to help her through it. For as close as Nesta and Elain had been, her and Y/N had been thick as thieves.

“Physically? Yes. Mentally? Not even close.” Lucien exhaled and his shouldered sagged.

Azriel sat up straighter, his shadows beginning to move around him in an agitated fashion. His heart rate picked up and sweat started to gather on his palms. “What do you mean?” He asked, voice rougher than usual.

“I had gone there tonight with the intention of helping her gather her belongings and prepare for the trip home but I barely even made it through the door when the head healer pulled me aside. She said Y/N’s healing had some… unforeseen side effects. Essentially, from what she could gather, every time Y/N uses her energy to heal, she absorbs the energy of those around her to create a balance. In normal circumstances this would probably be fine but doing it in the healers tents of an old battle field… well she’s been surrounded by nothing by grief and death all these months. She’s been taking it all in and now…” His sentence trailed off. He ran is hands through his hair, staring down at his feet.

“And now?” Cassian asked. The room was so quiet even a human could hear a pin drop.

“She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t laugh. She doesn’t really do much of anything but stare off into nothing. And her eyes, Gods, her eyes. They’re so lifeless, it’s like an empty shell of who she was.” Lucien felt a shiver run through him at the thought of her eyes, the way she had looked at him when he saw her for the first time. “I’m going back tomorrow morning to pick her up, but I had to let you all know so you aren’t shocked when you see her.”

Azriel froze, back stiff and eyes wide. His shadows were moving in a frenzy around him. His grip tightened on the glass he was holding as his knuckles turned white. That couldn’t be right.

Nobody spoke, the room a silent stillness. No one knew what to say.

————

The inner circle gathered around the dining room table. A low rumble of conversation consumed them, much more tame than what would usually be expected at a family dinner. The tension could be cut with a knife. Each member sat rigidly in their seat, unsure of what to expect upon her arrival.

Suddenly the sound of the front door opening could be heard reverberating through the house and the soft sound of footsteps followed in its wake. Azriel took a deep breath as his eyes connected with Mor who sat directly across from him. She gave him a tight-lipped smile. His heart was racing and sweat was beading on the back of his neck. His shadows were restless too, swarming him in a fit of nervousness.

Lucien appeared first, a small smile gracing his lips. “Hello everyone,” he stated as he sat down in the empty seat beside Elain. As he sat down, everyone’s eyes moved the body which had been previously hidden behind him. And there she was.

Y/N’s stood in the dining room entry way, straight as a board with her hands clasped behind her back. Her frame appeared thinner than he remembered and even her hair seemed to lack its usual liveliness. But in the end, it was her eyes that caused his heart to clench. They were empty and unseeing, as though she were staring through them.

He stood from his seat, the silent tension beginning to get to him. Nobody spoke. He pulled out the empty seat next to him and the sound caused her head to turn in his direction. Their gazes met and for moment, they simply stared at each other. Then she began to move as she swiftly and silently she settled into the seat beside him. Still, no words were spoken.

“We’re so happy you’re home!” Feyre exclaimed, allowing a large smile to spread across her face. Y/N turned her head in Feyre’s direction but said nothing. No smile graced her lips, no light sparked in her eyes.

Nothing.

“Remember us? Your sisters. You’re not even going to say ‘hello’ to us?” Nesta spoke up, irritation beginning to creep up her spine.

Nothing.

“I missed you Sunshine,” Cassian tried his hand. A warm smile upon his face as he looked at her. “Turns out, these losers aren’t nearly as fun to prank without you there to assist me.”

Nothing.

Azriel simply stared at her. His eyes were locked onto the side of her head as his heart began to fill with dread. His stomach felt as though it had been filled with lead. He reach out and grabbed her hand beneath the table as it sat in her lap.

Please. He begged. Please react. Do something, anything. He prayed to any Gods that may be listening.

Still, nothing.

Cassian looked across the table to his brother and winced. Through all the trials and tribulations they had faced, he had never seen Azriel look as distressed as he did now. His body was stiff with tension and even his shadows were pulled in tight. A pained expression adorned his face and his eyes were wide with horror, tears gathering along his lower lashes. He would not take his eyes off her. Despite all attempts, Y/N remained unmoving, blankly staring at the wooden table before her. All the while, Az steadfastly refused to let go of her hand. He had no idea if she even knew he was there but he hoped that maybe, in some small way, he was providing her some comfort.

————

And that’s how the weeks carried on. No emotions, no speech. Y/N remained as she was, floating through each day like a ghost.

The inner circle got to work.

Each person took turns to dig through archives and books looking for any sign of how to fix it. Rhys reached out to Helion in the hope that maybe, somewhere among his massive library, they would find a solution.

Azriel spent every waking moment he could either sitting beside her and speaking in soft tones or scouring countless books. There had to be an answer, if only he could find it.

Come to my office. Azriel heard his brothers voice in his mind and he let out a small sigh, shutting the book before him. Another waste.

Upon entering Rhys’ office he found both his brothers already seated. They each gave him a small smile as he took a seat beside them. Rhys leaned forward with his arms on his desk and his fingers crossed before him.

“I spoke with Helion about the situation and he believes he understands what is happening. Though we have yet to find a solution.”

Azriel stared across the desk at his brother, silently prompting him to continue.

“He believes that she’s burnt out much of her ability to heal and replaced that empty well with death, despair and grief. It had become such a common occurrence for her, that her body no longer registers those things as separate emotions. Essentially her baseline has been reprogrammed to those feelings.”

“So, she’s feeling grief and despair in a never-ending loop at all moments of the day? To the extent that it’s become her new normal?” Azriel spoke in a voice softer, sadder, than either Rhys or Cassian had ever heard before.

Rhys let out a small sigh, “essentially yes. We don’t have a set solution yet but Helion believes that if we can find a way to help her expel those emotions and surround her with comfort, we may be able to reverse it.”

Azriel’s eyes clenched tightly shut and his head dropped low, supported by his hands as his elbows rested on his knees. He hunched over as his shoulders began to shake violently. Both Cassian and Rhys shot up from their seats and made their way over to their brother. They crouched down beside him on either side and brought comforting hands up to his back.

“She’s always been there for me. When I’m feeling lost and alone she’s alway been able to pull me out of that darkness. This time she needs me and I can’t even help her. I don’t know how to fix this,” Azriel sobbed. “I can feel her withering away. Help me. Please. I don’t know what to do for her.”

His brothers locked eyes over his back and they shared a sad look. They had never heard Azriel beg before, had never heard him plead for help. Not like this.

“We’ll find a way to help her. I promise you, we will not stop until we find a way to make it right,” Rhys swore to him.

————

Surrounding her with love and support was the first plan set in motion. Even still, there was no progress. Mor took her shopping, Nesta brought her to spend time with Gwyn and Emerie. Even Elain tried to get her to garden alongside her. Nothing worked. She sat in silence, eyes blank.

The whole inner circle had once again gathered at the townhouse for another night in. Y/N was settled on the couch with her back pressed against the armrest and her knees pulled up to her chest. Her head was leaning against the back of the couch as she stared silently out the front window. The others were scattered around the living room, some taking part in a rowdy card game and others chatting quietly but Azriel couldn’t focus on anything but her. His eyes never strayed from her form, hoping against all odds that somehow she would respond to anything.

Rhys was sat next to him on the couch adjacent to the one Y/N sat upon. He leaned his head closer to his brother to hear him speak.

“I’m sending Amren to Day court tomorrow in the hopes she can go through some more of the books in the library there. Hopefully we get some good news soon.” Azriel nodded slowly; he wasn’t hopeful. He took another sip of his drink, and allowed himself a moment of calm. A moment to relax. And then it happened.

His shadows exploded out of him at the first sign of his hold on them loosening. He’d been keeping them so tightly wound in an effort to not startle her that as soon as his hold on them slackened they shot out towards her. His shadows swarmed her, covering Y/N completely and sheltering her from the world. He stood up quickly, ready to pull them back into him and apologize for their behavior. Before he could make a move though, he heard a small noise. Everyone went silent.

There it was again. A small, wet noise. A sniffle. Then, a hand shot out from the thick darkness, fingers making a grabbing motion.

“Azriel?” That voice. He knew that voice. His whole body froze, shock taking over him. “Azriel, please.” He moved with swiftness, reaching into the darkness and scooping her up, sitting on the couch and pulling her into his lap. He felt her thin fingers latch onto his shirt, holding on as though he were the only thing tethering her to this world. And then she began to sob. Loud, keening wails escaped her as she buried her face into his neck.

Nobody moved for fear of ruining this moment. It was what she needed, to expel these emotions.

“I-I want to go home,” she pleaded and she had barely even finished her request when they were swallowed up by darkness and carried off into the night.

A moment of silence passed over the group before Mor spoke up. “Where is he taking her? This is her home, she lives here.”

Cassian let out a huff, a little smile resting on his lips. “They’re in his room. She always used to call it home. I’m not sure how I seem to be the only who’s ever noticed but she basically lived in there with him.”

“What? Since when?” Feyre asked.

“For a long time. She always called this the townhouse or just ‘the house’ but his room, she always referred to it as home. From almost the beginning she started staying in there. They’d stay up late into the night talking. And then, slowly, her stuff just started migrating in there. If you don’t believe me, go look in her room. It’s barren.” Cassian smiled, widely this time. It thrilled him to know he’d been the only one observant enough to pick up on this fact.

“Do you think they’re like, together? Is that why he’s been taking this so hard? I just thought they were really close friends.” Feyre asked again, brows furrowing.

“Honestly, darling… I’m pretty positive they’re mates.” Feyre gasped.

“He told you that?!”

“No, not directly… but he didn’t have too. He was upset about the situation the other night and he said he could feel her withering away. I don’t think he even realized he said it, but he told us he could feel her.” And at that, smiles spread across each of their faces. Finally, they thought, the two people who deserved that kind of never ending, all-encompassing love, more than anyone were finally receiving it.

————

Azriel and Y/N reemerged in his bedroom. Silence surrounding them and only the sound of her short gasping breaths filling the space. He kept her tucked against him as he sat back on his bed against the headrest. She sat sideways between his legs, one of his arms wrapped around her waist and the other buried in her hair. He kept her head pressed close to him, his lips against her forehead.

“I’m here, love. I’m here for you.” He murmured against her skin, his eyes falling shut as salty tears ran down his cheeks and dripped off his chin into her hair. This was how they spent the remainder of their night; wrapped up in each other. They clung to each other as though the world might tear them apart at any moment.

“Thank you for being with me. I could hear you there with me, feel you with me, everyday. Not just when you were sitting with me but all the time. I can always feel you, and it helped more than I can ever truly tell you.” She whispered to him. She pulled back from where she had been tucked into the crook of his neck to look at him and felt a hard pull in her chest. And then a resounding snap.

Azriel gasped audibly as he stared down at her, wide eyed. A grin took over his face and he tucked her gently back against him. “I’m so happy I could help you in any small way like you’ve always done for me. And I will continue to be here for you, to love and cherish you always. For however long and any way you’ll have me.” She pulled back from him once more.

And then she smiled at him. Big and bright and stunningly beautiful. She was smiling at him once again.

#azriel x reader #azriel #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction

[simply-hyacinth]

You write L so wonderfully and so in character. I had a request if they’re still open: Could I request Reader (any gender) giving L his first kiss, teaching him how to kiss in the process, and L discovering that he really enjoys the sensation of kissing? I headcanon L as so mentally devoted to his work that his physical form has kind of taken a backseat, and so something like a kiss or touch from the right person can ignite in him a new understanding of himself. Thanks for reading! 💖

So, I was gonna answer this later because I have a truly astounding amount of homework to get done, but how could I keep you waiting? Anyways, I tried my best to adhere to your request, and I'm so sorry if it's disappointing, I've never really done this before. Please let me know if you want anything else written or rewritten, or literally anything. Your wish is my command. Also, thank you so much for your kind words! I am trying to write him as realistically as possible because I saw too much ooc L, and so I'm doing my best.

“Cake?” You asked, setting it down in front of him gently so as to not disturb his setup. 

“Thank you.” He responded. His eyes never left the screen as he picked up the fork and began to eat. 

He had arrived at your apartment last night and in typical L fashion, had given you little notice before knocking on your door with a briefcase of files and papers. He had turned your living room into a crime scene, and as far as you knew, hadn’t slept a wink since he had gotten here. 

You didn’t want to ask him any questions or bother him, despite how incredibly curious you were, but you did want to be sure he wasn’t wasting away under your watch. If that meant feeding him desserts every hour to ensure that something was being consumed, then so be it.

“Cake for dinner,” You said softly to the air, shaking your head as you served yourself a slice. “I’m living my childhood dreams.”

Taking a seat next to L, you very carefully pulled a blanket up to your lap. You watched him cautiously, worried that your movements might distract him.

“You are not bothering me.” He said abruptly. 

You froze “Are you sure? I can just go to my room if - “

“No, I quite enjoy your presence.” He turned to you. “And if anything, I should be the one worried about bothering you. I have completely taken over your living room with my research.”

In furious denial, you responded, “No not at all! I love having papers about - “ You pick up a paper and skim the first sentence. “ - mass murders…on my couch…”

L let out a soft chuckle, to which you gave him a smile in return. “I should be thankful that you have not yet tired of my existence.”

“How could I ever? You’re my best customer.” You gestured to the state of your messy kitchen - a result of all the baking and cooking you had done for him since he had arrived. 

He responded with a little laugh, and turned back to his screen. You admired how much he devoted himself to his work, however it worried you nonstop to see how it ate away at him, both mentally and physically. 

You didn’t pretend to understand what he did. As far as you could tell, he was a spy or detective of sorts. He never confirmed or denied your guesses, but there were certain aspects of his routine that allowed you to infer what you could.

What you were sure of, however, was that the only time he was ever able to properly relax was when he was around you. Which only made it that much more saddening that he was so immersed in his research at this moment in time.

But you said nothing. It was never your place to interfere or say anything. That was how the two of you worked.

You picked up your book from the table in front of you and began to read. It was nice, being near him and the two of you being allowed to do your respective things. In fact, the book you were reading was one he had suggested for you after you told him it had been a while since you found a good book.

So far, you were quite happy with the recommendation.

After a couple of hours of just being next to each other and occasionally exchanging words, you began to doze off. The book slipped out of your hands and your head dropped onto L’s shoulder.

For the first time in hours, he was completely taken out of his work mindset. The weight of your body slumped against his was so warm. He knew it probably would be best to let you sleep, but how was he meant to get any work done if you were right against him?

Lucky for him, you started to stir, yawning as you awoke from your brief nap. “You’re here?”

“I’ve been here since yesterday.” He replied quietly.

You quickly noticed how much of his personal space you had accidentally invaded and shot straight up. “Shit, I didn’t mean to - “

L reached over and took your hand. It was a bit of an awkward grab, but you understood he meant it to be comforting. “You do not bother me.” His words were firm. 

“Right,” You breathed out, unknowingly lacing your fingers with his. “I forgot.”

“You also seemed to forget that I was here,” He noted. “You were surprised.”

Your cheeks heated up at his observation. “I think…I’m not used to you being so present next to me. It was a bit shocking to wake up practically sleeping on you.”

He was silent for a moment, and then, “Elaborate. On the part about me being present.”

“It’s not a matter of you being physically absent, but I mean you’re always so absorbed in your work that it’s like you forget I’m here or even where and who you are. Mentally, you are on another planet almost ninety percent of the time.” You explain, embarrassed. 

This seemed to bother him. You noticed the way his grip on your hand loosened and his shoulders deflated even more. 

“I never meant to make you feel that way.”

Your heart broke at how defeated he sounded. “Not at all! I just want you to be aware that you’re allowed to relax around me. You’re under no obligations here.”

He nodded. “Then you should also know that I don’t mind you being close to me.” He looked down at where your hands were still intertwined. “I’ve come to enjoy being in contact with you.”

You laughed lightly, relieved. “Thank goodness. I could kiss you right now, you know?”

“You could.” He confirmed quickly. “It would certainly be an experience I’ve never had before.”

To that, your laughter stops. “Never? You’ve never been kissed before?”

“I think I, of all people, would know if I had been.” He said dryly. 

“Would you want me to kiss you?” You asked him, your words hushed and curious. 

He pondered it for a moment. “I would want you to, of course. I have no expectations on whether or not I will enjoy it, as I have no previous experience to form them from. However, based off of what the vast majority of the population would - “

You decided you had enough of his talking and leaned forward, pressing your lips against his and using your free hand to hold his face gently as you did. 

By kissing standards, it was not perfect. It was soft and awkward, but to you it was pure bliss. And as you pulled away and saw the gratified look in his eyes, it was fairly evident he felt similarly.

“How was that?” You asked teasingly.

“I’m not sure,” He replied. “I think you should do it again, for me to provide you with a satisfactory answer.”

You let out a laugh and leaned against him. “To be entirely honest with you, I haven’t kissed many people before.”

“In comparison to them, how did I do?” 

“Well, that was just a basic kiss.” You explained. “If you really want to be memorable, you should try a little harder.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “And how should I do that?”

You gave him a sly smile and moved until his back was pressed against the couch cushions and you were positioned slightly above him, your legs on either side of his lap. 

“Just open your mouth…” And like the obedient boyfriend he was, he did. “...lean forward…” Your lips met his again and you pulled him in closer; so close that you could feel his heart pounding against your chest.

The two of you quickly fell into a rhythm, and for someone who claimed to have never been kissed before, he was oddly passionate.

Breathless, you pulled away and beamed at him. “I would say that was pretty good. You?”

“If I wished to rank it, I would have to kiss other people to properly make a comparison.” You met his eyes, a teasing spark illuminated within them.

You scrunched up your nose. “Don’t joke. You are horribly unfunny.”

“Your lies do not concern me.” He placed a small kiss on the tip of your nose, much to your surprise. 

“It appears you like being kissed then?” 

“If it’s by you, then yes.” He sighed, a mixture of content and sadness. “I apologize for making you feel so unwanted around me while I work. I truly appreciate your presence and your efforts to distract me.”

You nodded acceptingly. “Well, do they at least work?”

L smiled. “They do.”

With a little exhale of relief, you rested your body against his and closed your eyes. “Anyways, you’re pretty good at that whole kissing thing. Maybe we can make it a habit.”

He squeezed your hand lightly. “I would like that.”

Because there was something so satisfying about kissing you, or even touching you, that made him only crave it more. L, whose mind was forever restless, had come to a complete halt the moment your lips had touched his. 

It appeared that the only tried and true thing that could ever relax him and bring him out of an overworked state of mind, was being with you. 

It was selfish. So incredibly selfish of him. To be with you, knowing the dangers, knowing the consequences, all because it made him feel good.

But he couldn’t help it. Not if it meant the possibility of kissing you again. And so he solidified this resolve in his mind that he wanted you, and only ever you. He knew there could be nothing good to come of this in the long run, but for now, you were both content in each other’s company.

L never stopped thinking about this moment. It might have been one of the only ones where he could truly say he was happy. 

#simplyhyacinth #l death note #deathnote #deathnote x reader #deathnote fanfiction #l x reader #lawliet x reader #l lawliet x reader #l lawliet #l lawliet x you #l x you

[junggunz]

taste test |🔞

cw: fem!reader | gun + degradation | goo + toys | samuel + cockwarming | choking | dacryphilia | overstimulation | orgasm denial | an: omg i finally got around to writing lookism smut :^)

──★ ˙ ̟GUN

You made the mistake of complaining about how Gun didn’t spend enough time with you. And his response to that was to spend the last two hours, fucking all of his pent up frustration into you. Knowing him, this was just the start of a very long evening with him. 

“I’m a very busy person, why can’t you get that through your fucking head?” Gun barks at you, long fingers wrapping around your neck and squeezing the sides as his hips snap against your ass. The lewd tacky sounds created by your sopping wet cunt fill in the silence where you would verbally respond to him if you currently had the mental capacity to do so. “Needy little whore, you should be thankful I even give you the time of day.” 

A pathetic whine is the only response you’re able to give him as he squeezes your throat harder as his thrusts turn feral, your body trying its absolute hardest to withstand the force. If it wasn’t for the hold Gun had on your throat, you’d probably have your face pressed into the sheets because your arms had already given out on you. The sheer size of Gun’s cock stretching you open made your toes go numb long ago; it was a miracle your legs were still supporting you.

Shifting his movements ever so slightly, Gun’s thick cock is pummeling into you deeper and stimulating your sweet spot causing tears to bead along your eyelashes as the pleasure increases by tenfold. The tears begin to come down your face in streams; gathering into a single large drop on your chin that lands on his hand. Releasing his grasp on your neck, his hold quickly moves to your hair and yanks your head back so he’s able to get a good look at your pitiful state.

“Cry all you want but I know this is exactly what you wanted.” Gun mutters while continuing to fill you with his length. “You love being my dumb little cock slut, don’t you?” 

You nod weakly in response to his question, moaning incessantly as you eagerly accept every ruthless and nasty thrust he delivers to you. With the tip of his cock consistently ramming into your g-spot, it takes practically no time to get your pussy to cream all over his length. 

As much as you wanted to thank him for how good he made you feel, he had truly fucked you dumb. 

──★ ˙ ̟GOO

“It’ll be fun, I promise.” 

Fun for him, maybe. But you, on the other hand, were not faring as well. 

Goo had come home early; catching you in the middle of testing out the wand massager he had gifted you. You had expected him to approach you aggressively, punishing you for playing without him; instead, he came to you sweetly offering to help you. But as you throw your head back on his shoulder while he sits behind you, holding the vibrating toy against your clit, you think you would have been better off receiving the rougher treatment. 

Your thighs are shaking as Goo keeps your legs spread open for him, drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you. The first two or three had been amazing, but you were now at a point where it was too hard to even think about keeping count. Eyes rolled far back into your head, your body is totally limp from the overwhelming sensation; only tensing up right before you cum again.  

“You made such a mess, sweetheart.” Goo murmurs in your ear, his eyes admiring the pool of wetness on the sheets beneath you. “So good for me, you ready for your reward?"

His words don’t even totally register in your fucked out mind, but you find yourself tiredly nodding in response to him anyway. Once you realize what he just said, it’s too late for you to even try to mentally prepare yourself as Goo swiftly rearranges you on your back, settling between your legs after stripping out of his clothes. He eases into you with barely any resistance due to how soaked your pussy is but the slight sting of having your walls be stretched out so much is still there and has you squirming beneath him.

Not even giving you any time to adjust, Goo starts to pound into your sensitive walls; making you cry out at the bliss of finally being filled. With how many times you had cum, it wouldn’t take much to send you over the edge again and Goo knows that. 

But it doesn’t matter how many times he made you cum; things were only over when Goo decided they were. 

──★ ˙ ̟SAMUEL

“Stop squirming so much.” Samuel warns you for the nth time of the evening as you are perched on his lap, his cock nestled deep inside of your leaking cunt. 

You were bored and he still had paperwork to do. This was the compromise you agreed on. But you didn’t account for how long he would take. 

“Can you hurry up?” You whine, not so subtly rolling your hips against his as an attempt to wear down his resolve. Clenching his jaw, he tears his attention away from the document he had been reading and sets it down on the desk in front of you before his hand lands a harsh smack on your inner thigh.

“Be good and sit still.” He speaks through his teeth, making his annoyance very clear to you but it only causes your walls to excitedly flutter around his cock; more of your arousal dribbling out of you and trailing down his length. As much as he wants to reprimand you for the action, every time he has to stop working just to scold you just makes it take longer for him to finish his current task at hand. 

Things go on like this for what feels like ages until Samuel finally snaps. All it took was you lifting up the front hem of your skirt, showcasing your soaked pussy stretched around his fat cock. He didn’t even know what made him look there in the first place; but a mere glance at the tantalizing sight was enough for all of his self control to crumble. 

Right when you were about to give up on trying to make Samuel give in, you feel him hooking his arms around your thighs, spreading your legs wider with his hands clasping together behind your head. The position is excruciating but you have no other choice but to endure it as Samuel holds you in place, giving you hard, shallow thrusts that stimulate your walls in all the right places. Your jaw falls slack as you keep crying out in bliss, becoming delirious from the way his cock stretches you out. 

“Don’t even think about cumming without permission, you’ve pissed me off enough.” Samuel growls from behind you, a small whine of protest leaving you as you had already felt the beginnings of an orgasm blooming in the pit of your stomach. However, the situation is hopeless; Samuel wouldn’t ease up on you and he wasn’t going to give in to any of your pleas. The only thing you could do was try to stave off your climax or else you would have to deal with Samuel’s wrath.

#lookism smut #lookism x reader #lookism fanfic #lookism imagines #lookism gun x reader #gun x reader #lookism goo x reader #goo x reader #park jonggun x reader #park jonggun smut #kim joongoo x reader #kim joongoo smut #samuel seo x reader #samuel seo smut #junggunz.txt #gun park scenarios #goo kim scenarios #samuel seo scenarios #lookism #lookism manhwa #lookism webtoon

[scekrex]

I’ve been feeling a lil dysphoric lately cause of shark week, do you think you could write something where Adam praises reader and raising his confidence? :,) also, I love ur work so much, it’s all so good 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Okay so I paused the smut I was writing to write this prompt instead bc my shark week ended a couple hours ago and I feel your vibe soooo much homeboy, just know that you're doing great okay? I'm proud of you <3 also I was a selfish lil asshole 'n' gave this a trans!male!reader undertone - it turned out a lil short but I hope you like it nonetheless and that it helps you a little, much love/p

Little soldier

pairing: Adam x trans!male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

You looked up as Adam flopped down next to you on the couch, the first man was quick to pull you in his lap once he found a position that he considered comfortable. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your shoulder as his soft voice made you relax even more, “How’s my handsome man doin’?” You leaned into his touch immediately, desperate for the comfort his body warmth, scent and voice were offering. You hadn’t been that amazing for the past couple days and of course Adam had noticed and while he still wasn’t the best when it came to providing comfort with his words - he was learning how to do that though, knowing that you needed it every now and then - he was able to praise you, shower you in affirmation and love, and - of course - hugs and kisses. Your body felt icky, wrong even, more than it usually did and that state was affecting you mentally, draining you and making you want to hide underneath a gigantic warm blanket covered in Adam’s scent until it would eventually get better. You responded with an uncertain hum, you wanted to shrug your shoulders but due to Adam’s head resting on one of them you didn’t. You wanted the brunette to stay as close as possible. “Already?” he asked and once again you only responded in the form of a hum, this time an agreeing one with a light nod of your head underlining the quiet sound.

His arms around you tightened as he wrapped his wings around both of your bodies, the tips of his feathers gently brushed your chin and that caused your lips to curl up in a tiny smile, you loved it when he did that, loved it when he used them to shield your body away from the world and their judging eyes. And though no one was looking at you besides Adam - how could anyone, you were at home after all, just him and you - it felt good, made you feel a little more comfortable given the situation. “I’m fucking proud of you,” he mumbled as he turned his head slightly to press a soft kiss against your neck. You tilted your head to the opposite side, offering your neck to the first man, silently asking for more kisses, more soft spoken words that would ease the negative feelings you were feeling. “Holding up so fucking well for both you ‘n’ me, babes,” he continued to speak as he placed yet another kiss near your collar bone, he wouldn’t take this further, he wouldn’t try and place kisses lower than that, he knew that just as well as you did and you were grateful for it. The brunette didn’t stop at just two sloppy praises though, not when he knew that you were going through something, and though he’d never fully understand your feelings, he did accept them and never played them down. He knew that was important to you and he respected that. “I love you,” that statement was followed my a firmer kiss against your jaw, “So fucking much.” Adam rarely used the words, he saved them for vulnerable moments like this one. He was more of an actions guy than a words guy so he usually showed his love towards you by acting like he meant it. Hearing it, however, made you fully smile, not just a tiny one either. He knew you loved him too, he didn’t need to hear it back, you didn’t feel like talking and he respected that, yet he wanted you to know. “My badass little soldier,” usually you’d argue about how you weren’t that little, how Adam was just a fucking giant, but right now you haven’t had the energy to do so, so you took the praise as it was without arguing. When his lips brushed against the shell of your ear, you shuddered lightly, he noticed of course but decided to leave it uncommented. This wasn’t the right time for jokes and he was more than aware of it, he’d save his cocky comments for later, for when you’d be better.

“Fighting so fucking good,” he whispered in your ear and a kiss on your temple followed those loving words. Oh how you loved his soft side - yes he could be a jackass, but he truly loved you, the comfort he was trying to provide showed it and you were very grateful for it, surely it would be a lot harder to go through those phases without him - he was some sort of guardian angel to you. “I fucking promise this’ll be over one fucking day,” was it a promise he could keep? You didn’t know, but that didn’t matter. Not now, not when he was there, making it easier to live through this. “Babes,” he hummed as one of his hands came up to slightly turn your head towards him, your eyes locked with his and you saw the love they held for you and only you. That was something that eased your mind a little. He could have anyone - everyone - yet he had fallen in love with you. “You’re the most perfect boyfriend Father could’ve sent me,” he finished his sentence and then sealed his words with a kiss on your lips, a gentle one, there was nothing intended, nothing this would lead to, a simple yet so meaningful kiss. “I love you too,” you mumbled against his lips before you pulled Adam in another loving kiss.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you #trans reader

[the-guilty-writer]

You're Real

Request from anon: Hear me out. Spencer’s child has depersonalization disorder and has a hard time asking for help with their current situation. 

Spencer Reid x teen!reader

Summary: As you get deeper and deeper into a depersonalized state, your dad doesn’t need to ask- he already knows the best thing he can do for you.

A/N: This was interesting to write and I had to write it in sections with lots of breaks so it didn’t trigger dissociation. I’m sorry if this isn’t as good as you wanted it to be and that it’s so short, but I have to put myself first. Everyone experiences depersonalization symptoms differently so this is not a reflection of everyone’s experience, nor will the techniques used to help ground the reader be effective for those who experience depersonalization.

CW: Reader experiences depersonalization.

IF YOU HAVE A DEPERSONALIZATION OR DEREALIZATION DISORDER PLEASE READ WITH EXTREME CAUTION

---

Sometimes it was easy to know what caused it- like a stressful day at school or a place that was too loud- and other times it just happened out of nowhere; the feeling that you weren’t… you.

You were you… but you weren’t. You tried to touch your hands to one another, but there was no sense of solidity to your body- no physical or mental feeling to tell you that you existed. And they were too big for your body. Your feet were hitting the ground… probably? There was no shock under your shoes as you walked forward. The movement itself felt ghostly, like the traces of something that had once been but no longer was, or like your thoughts were somewhere else in the galaxy and your body was just moving as it should, not giving you any control at all.

There was a call of your name and then… a hand maybe? Possibly on your shoulder? You could feel someone was with you, near you, touching you… but at the same time you couldn’t feel at all, as if your skin was no longer attached to your brain.

“(Y/N)... hey, it’s me.” The voice was gentle and familiar- the coo of Spencer’s voice that you had been hearing since you were a child… had you ever been a child? You couldn’t remember.

The only thing you could trust right now was your sight, so you looked around at the limbs that didn’t feel like they belonged to you. Someone was holding both of your hands. Someone was standing in front of you, holding your hands.

You looked up slowly at hazel eyes and dark curly hair.

Dad. You tried to say the words, but whether they came out or not was a mystery to you.

He started with the hands that you couldn’t tell if you had seen before, running his fingertips lightly over the palms in circles. The contact made you shiver.

Wait… the contact made you shiver.

Spencer ran his hands up to your elbows… okay, you had elbows too. He pulled you towards him by both, helping you take a gentle step forward, one foot hitting the ground with a sharpening sensation. Then another step. Another foot. Then backwards twice just for good measure.

“I’m right here,” your dad said, and this time you could hear him more clearly.

His hands ran gently from your elbows and upward to… were those your shoulders? You weren’t sure.

“I’m here with you still,” Spencer’s voice was clear again. “You’re still here with me.”

There was the sound of a wrapper and then your dad’s thumb grazing your bottom lip, sending feeling back into your jaw. You weren’t sure that you had a neck. You were still unsure about your shoulders, but you allowed your mouth to open. You were able to speak without feeling out of control.

“Dad… it’s happening,” your voice was distant.

“I know.” But Spencer’s was clear. He was right in front of you and he was real. “I’m going to put this candy in your mouth. Okay?”

It wasn’t something you would or could answer- he simply put the peppermint on your tongue. You closed your jaw.

The sharpness of the flavor allowed your sinuses to clear and you could faintly smell your dad’s cologne. The sensation made its way to your eyes, allowing you to clearly take in that he was wearing his favorite cardigan- the one you gave him for his birthday when you were ten. A memory… a memory of being at the BAU, hand held by your Aunt Penelope as the team sang Happy Birthday. Your dad asked you to help him blow out the candles.

You looked up at him now- it really hadn’t been that long ago, but he had aged. Time had passed. You were taller now than you were then. Time had passed.

You could hear. You could feel. You could move. You could taste. You could smell. You could see. You could remember. Time had passed.

You let out a deep breath, your body feeling like your own again.

“Dad-” you spoke and the words were your own. Coming down and back to yourself was never an easy process- all your senses being gone and then coming back so you could experience the world in its full capacity.

Spencer wrapped you in a gentle hug. You heard the beating of his heart, felt the pressure of his arms, you moved your own to reciprocate the action, peppermint lingered in your mouth, the smell of cologne filled your nose, you could remember your life, you knew time had passed.

You were you.

“I’ve got you,” your dad whispered in your ear. “You’re real,” he affirmed. “You’re real.”

#criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #spencer reid x child!reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x teen!reader #criminal minds x daughter!reader #criminal minds x child!reader

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 15 - Loss of Virginity]

Pairing: Virgin!Jungkook x soft Domme!Reader

Kinks: anal fingering, gentle male anal, anal dildo, tears, body worship, praise, good boy kink, Missionary to Doggy, this is really sensual

Wordcount: 5.1k

a/n: y’all wanted anal virgin!kook, so i am here delivering the goods. he is so cute istg i wanna protect him :( i also wanna state that i listened to romantic music whilst writing this, so excuse the absolute fluff fest in the beginning ❤

Jungkook is not the adventurous type. He likes the comfort of familiarity and the safety of the known. Adventures bring risks with them. They bring situations he didn’t overthink a hundred times, situations he didn’t mentally prepare for and outcomes he wasn’t ready for.

Quite frankly, he still doesn’t quite understand how he was able to take on the adventure of being your boyfriend because he never even imagined that someone as awesome and amazing and cool as you could like someone as boring and weird as him. But apparently you did. You liked someone like him so very much that last Christmas you asked him to be your boyfriend and the rest is sweet history.

But being with you didn’t change the fact that Jungkook was never adventurous and therefore never accustomed the great knowledge about the scary topic sex like you did. Sex was always a terribly intimidating topic to him. Sex brings situations he didn’t overthink a hundred times, situations he mentally didn’t prepare for and bodily sensations he wasn’t ready for and had no idea how to react to.

You were entirely different. Younger than him by just a few months, but still so much more knowledgeable and experienced than him. Jungkook thought that you were the bravest person he ever met, because of how many stories you told him. You told him that kissing is actually really nice and that it won’t end in him having his lips bitten off. You were joking, but for a short while Jungkook worried greatly that his lips will be bitten off until you kissed him gently and showed him that the adventure wasn’t at all scary to take. You also told him that being naked with each other doesn’t always have to be sexy and that touching skins won’t instantly end in him getting you pregnant. Jungkook then proceeded to be your little spoon as you cuddled naked and he liked it so very much that he cried a little. They were happy tears, but also tears of pride because he managed to go on another adventure he always thought himself too cowardice to take.

You also told him that sex can feel really, really nice and that stuff like falling off dicks, twisted balls or ripped open vaginas (yes Jungkook was very creative in his fears) won’t happen if you were being careful and gentle. You then proceeded to take his virginity in the backseat of his car after a movie date and Jungkook didn’t want to let go of you for the rest of the night because he realised that he loved you like he never loved a person before.

Jungkook liked sex a lot. He liked it with you at least and he didn’t want to find out if he would like it with other people too, because he needed no one else except you. You showed him so many things. Some he liked and some he didn’t and you told him that it was perfectly fine to have preferences. You took so many fears from him. Jungkook realised that sex wasn’t as terrifying and scary and embarrassing as he thought it would be. He accepted that sometimes there were situations he couldn’t possibly have prepared for and that those situations were okay. He learned that some bodily reactions are supposed to happen and that some are natural and that the way his body acted when it received pleasure wasn’t embarrassing or wrong. He also realised that you were the hottest woman ever and that he had the biggest horny crush on you. Jungkook loved being horny with you and because of you and for you. Jungkook really, really loved it. And he loves the adventures with you. And most importantly he loved you. So very much.

You loved him too. So very much. Maybe even so much that you considered him to be the love of your life, because you couldn’t imagine life without him and that has always been your definition of your dearest love.

And that is why you were almost bursting in proud happiness when Jungkook asked you to try out something new in the bedroom. Before that, Jungkook never asked for new kinks, but rather wanted to listen and learn through you. So to have him actively voice his wishes made you feel so happy and proud and excited.

Jungkook is on his back with his head supported by the pillows and his favourite t-shirt on. He was a little cold so he didn’t want to take it off. He looks so cute in it that you don’t mind at all, not that you would have minded either way.

You are between his legs, marking his inner left thigh with hickeys and lovebites. His right thigh is marked up already, skin feeling so sensitive that even the air hitting it feels like just a little too much for Jungkook.

He feels charged in excitement. He can barely even take a breath without making little sounds. They are of desperate, happy and surprised nature and all feel so natural to make. Because you make him feel all of those things. Desperate to the point where his tummy aches from tensing it. Happy because you take such good care of him. Surprised because of how good it feels to be cared for.

“You’ve got the prettiest thighs”, you whisper into him, tracing them with your fingers before kissing a still unmarked spot.

Jungkook squirms and makes a happy sound. His eyes are closed so he can fully concentrate on what you are doing. He really loves keeping his eyes closed whenever you touch him because he can’t get distracted by other stuff around him. Also, he thinks that the sensations are a hundred times more intense when all his senses take in, are your touches.

Tonight’s adventure started a month ago, which may sound like a lot of time to some people, but one must remember that Jungkook’s adventures always start in his worrying little head until he thought of every possible outcome and only then he dares to go the next step. So one month is actually a very short time in Jungkook’s terms.

One month ago, Jungkook stumbled upon a video of a couple talking about the act of how they called it “straight male anal” and Jungkook was curious. One year ago, before your time, he would have instantly clicked away because it was too scary to even imagine, but he felt curious these days and wanted to check it out. So he did. He read articles about it, watched videos about it, even went online and asked people on a forum about it. He received very unhelpful messages telling him that anal would make him instantly gay and not a real man. Jungkook was deeply confused because he never considered being gay a bad thing nor did he ever think about the possibility that anal could make him less manly, but because the people on the internet were so passionate about how awful anal for straight guys was, Jungkook became worried again and let the topic die down again for the next two weeks. Maybe he simply wasn’t meant to have things up his butt.

“Dude, don't believe random trolls on the internet. That’s total bullshit what they told you. Anal has no sexuality or gender, just do it if you feel like it”, it was Taehyung, his best friend and a super cool adventurous guy, who assured him that he was very much allowed to enjoy anal. To which Jungkook once again asked if he was really allowed to try it, “yes, you are. Try it, I promise you’ll love it.”

Taehyung’s support was all that Jungkook needed to finally voice his wishes to you and to his surprise you were over the moon in excitement.

The lights are off and you lit your candles to set the perfect mood. The music is quiet in the background, slow love making music which Jungkook picked out. And on the sheets with you, a bottle of lube and a small anal dildo were waiting to be used.

Jungkook did the whole procedure beforehand. He cleaned himself just how Taehyung explained to him to do it. And even if that almost made him pass out in nervousness at first, it wasn’t actually that terrible in the end. Then he shaved because he felt like that was necessary and because he was really, really nervous he somehow ended up shaving his legs as well. He still has no idea how he ended up like that, but he is happy now because somehow your kisses feel a million times better when his skin is smooth and hairless.

Your lips leave his inner thigh for now, your hands stay rested on his skin.

“Gosh, look at you”, you say and chuckle.

Jungkook opens his eyes, “w-why are you laughing?” he stutters.

“It’s just that. I haven’t looked up for so long that I didn’t even notice that you got hard”, you say, reaching out to tug the shirt from his aggressive boner, “you’ve got shirt stuck on it”, you chuckle.

Jungkook squirms and whines, giving you a shy pout.

“It’s cute, don’t pout. It was like a little hood. I think it’s cute”, you assure him.

Jungkook’s pout turns into rosy cheeks and sparkly eyes instead. He smiles softly, giving you a throaty little giggle.

"God Koo, you’re so cute", you say, moving up his body just to give him the biggest smooch onto his lips. 

Jungkook kisses you back eagerly, sighing softly when you pull back.

"Tonight’s so epic", you whisper, "I'm having so much fun." 

"Me too, I’m having so much fun", Jungkook answers you, widening his eyes slightly when your hand slips between his legs.

"Can I do that?"

"Yes..."

You run it down his cock, lingering on his balls for a quick massage. One Jungkook takes with his eyes closing in bliss and his head rolling to the side. Like this he is nuzzled into your arm, looking so peacefully turned on. Also really cute. He is seriously the cutest person alive. 

You lean down and kiss his temple, staying close afterwards.

"You're so cute, my baby", you whisper, "I'm so obsessed with you." 

You abandon his balls to take on the journey further down. Just your fingertips, resting themselves on his rim. 

"Hah", Jungkook gasps, opening his eyes to peek up at you without moving his head an inch. He looks nervous but also excited.

"So soft", you whisper, moving your arm so you can play with his hair, "what do you think of the touch?" 

"Is not bad", he mumbles.

You move your fingers, tracing his soft rim slowly. Jungkook makes a little squeaky sound and closes his eyes, seeking your closeness. 

"You're so cute", you whisper, "is that comfy?" 

"Yeah, feels….much, a lot. Yeah."

"Yeah right? It’s so sensitive, you wouldn’t even believe that at first." 

"Yeah…"

"Should we try some fingers?"

Jungkook nods his head.

You kiss his temple, "okay, I’ll get the lube." 

Jungkook uses the time you take to apply the lube to look at you. You are wearing a t-shirt too and the Iron Man socks he got you so you would match. You aren’t really a fan of Iron Man but you still think that those socks are the best thing you ever owned. You have no makeup on and your hair is a little messy. Jungkook thinks that you are so beautiful, feeling his heart flutter because of it. Your skin looks so beautiful in the candlelight that Jungkook wants to never stop looking at you. 

"Done."

His eyes shift to your hand and your wet fingers. He gulps, looking up at your eyes. You carry nothing but patience and love in them.

"Are you scared?" 

"No, but n-nervous", he stutters. 

"That's okay. I'll go slow. Look, I’ll put in this one first and then we'll go from there. Do you want that?" 

"Yes, I do. I'm still nervous."

"Okay, it’s okay. Look at it. It’s thinner than the douche isn’t it?" 

Jungkook nods his head. 

"And did the douche feel too big?" 

Jungkook shakes his head. 

"So you can easily take my finger, can’t you?" 

Jungkook’s eyes light up in realisation. He nods his head and parts his legs just slightly. 

"Good boy", you peck his soft cheek, "now relax, I’ll start. You can stop at any time, yeah?"

"Yeah, okay." 

You place your fingers on in his hole and trace it slowly. The lube makes the touch feel so much smoother. Jungkook likes the feeling of the lube because the friction is less. He closes his eyes and rests back against you.

"There we go, relax. You’re doing so well", you praise, smoothing over his hair and kissing his temple. 

You apply soft pressure on his rim. 

Jungkook furrows his brows, making a sound of surprise. This is a really intense sensation. The pressure feels like a lot, growing more and more until suddenly it stops and you are inside. 

"Slipped right in", you say, "that was so good. You just took me so well", you praise, pushing more of your digit inside. 

Jungkook grunts and looks up, realizing that you are gazing down at him. 

"How is that?" you ask him, massaging his ear softly as you curl your finger inside him.

Jungkook whimpers and lifts his head just enough that you understand. You claim his pretty lips in a kiss, cupping his cheek to make sure he never slips from you. 

He relaxes around your finger, feeling so soft and warm inside. You move your hand, finger shifting in his hole. Jungkook moans quietly, breaking the kiss to gaze at your lips with droopy, barely open eyes. You know that his brain is currently getting liquified in pleasure and that all he can truly see is blurriness. 

"Isn't that so nice?" you ask him in a soft whisper.

"Nice…" Jungkook lulls, closing his eyes by rolling them back slowly. He nuzzles into you, making it so that you can close your arm around his head and he is hidden in your chest. 

"Good boy, my good boy", you whisper, feeling so incredibly warm inside. You love this man so much. You really, really do. 

You continue moving your finger until Jungkook nudges your waist with his hand. Four songs played in that time, serving as the sweetest soundtrack for an ever sweeter moment.

"Can I have one more?" he asks quietly.

"Yes baby, of course you can", you promise him. You cover your fingers in some new lube and return your middle finger where it was supposed to be. You move it twice then decide it was time for your ring finger to join it. You slip in easily. 

Jungkook stills tenses up, clearly feeling the new stretch. He whimpers, breathing quickly and shakily as his fingers twist a part of your shirt.

"Do you want to stop? Is it too much?" you ask him, pecking the shell of his ear repeatedly.

"N-no", he gets out and gasps for air.

He opens his legs further, cock looking just that tiny bit wet at the tip. He is really into it. Good. 

You move slowly, sending a shiver through him. 

"How's that?" 

"Nice", Jungkook sighs and moans softly, turning his head again.

Like this, your noses are almost touching and his eyes race between yours. You smile. Jungkook retorts it, smiling with his eyes before he does with his lips. 

"And do you feel any different than before?" you ask him.

"Better. I feel better", he says and rolls his hips up in a little squirm.

"I'm so glad you do. You’re taking it so well", you praise, curling your fingers. 

Jungkook moans and closes his eyes. He whispers something like "so nice" and parts his lips afterwards. His hole feels very relaxed around your digits, letting you know that Jungkook was enjoying it deeply. 

And he is. Jungkook thinks that he never felt so hot and bothered by something. His stomach feels so relaxed and yet wants to keep tensing. His legs and arms feel like jello and his heart is racing like crazy. He also realises that although his cock is really hard, he doesn’t crave touches to it. Your fingers feel so good in his hole. They don’t hurt or burn or feel weird. They feel amazing. Jungkook really loves the feeling of the stretch and thinks each time you curl them he is floating. 

If those are supposed to be sensations which turn men into lesser beings then Taehyung was right. The people on the internet had no idea what they were talking about. Because Jungkook has never felt stronger and more fulfilled than he does right now. This isn’t making him less, this is turning him into more. 

Jungkook peels his eyes open, gazing up at you. Your eyes soften and begin sparkling.

"I think I want the dildo", Jungkook tells you.

"Yeah? Are you ready for it?" 

Jungkook nods his head confidently. You giggle and peck his cheek. 

"One moment, I’ll prepare it." 

Sadly you have to pull out and so Jungkook reaches for your hand before you leave completely. 

"What are you doing?" you ask him, watching him gather the lube on your fingers. 

"I want to try myself", he explains and reaches between his legs with his newly lubed fingers. He pushes two fingers inside, widening his eyes and rolling his hips against nothing. 

"And?" you ask him with a dripping pussy because that view is hot.

"It's good", he gets out and mewls, closing his eyes as he begins moving his hand between his legs. He keens quietly, cock leaking excitement and legs opening just a little more. 

"You're so hot, it’s unfair", you mumble, now working twice as quick to get the dildo ready.  

You climb between his legs when you are finished, running your hand up his inner thigh.

Jungkook opens his eyes, peeking down at you. 

"You're so sexy, wow. Your fingers look so good in your hole", you praise, ogling it hungrily. 

Black tattoos all covered in lube and smooth hole stretching right around his digits. Jungkook’s made for it. He looks so handsome like this.

"Hand me one of the pillows please", you order him. 

Jungkook reaches above himself to snatch one of the decorative pillows. He hands it to you, keeping his fingers still inside him as he watches you curiously.

"Lift your bum."

Jungkook follows, allowing you to place the pillow under his butt and therefore angle his hips for better access.

"Now pull your fingers out, I’ll use the dildo."

Jungkook obeys, bending his legs and propping them up. He places his hands on his thighs, running them up and down slowly. He feels so empty. He hopes that you don’t take a lot of time anymore.

"Good boy, you’re the best", you praise, shimmying closer. You place the tip of the toy against his hole, looking at his face.

He is gazing at you with excited anticipation,  chest heaving up and down quickly.

"Are you still into the idea?" you make sure.

"Yes", he doesn’t hesitate, "I'm really into it. Can you please hurry up?" 

You grin because of his eagerness, "I'm into it too. I'll push now."

"Yes, okay", Jungkook says and closes his eyes in preparation. 

You apply pressure, struggle for one second and slip in. 

"Oh", Jungkook’s brows shoot up, his fingers squeeze his thighs. 

"It's a little bigger than just fingers, isn’t it?" 

"Yes", he croaks.

"Should we stop?" 

"Uhm..no", he licks his lips and shakes his head, "no I don’t think so. No, it’s good, yeah."

"You don’t sound convinced."

"I am", he insists loudly, opening his eyes, "the stretch is new a-and burns a little." 

"Okay. So I’ll keep it still for a little, yeah?" 

He nods his head. 

"Can we", he begins quietly, "can we kiss? Please?" 

"God, of course we can. Come here baby", you say, closing the distance between you and him. You cup his face with both your hands and pull him into an adoring kiss.

Jungkook reaches up, cupping your cheeks and kissing you back with a fluttering heart. Like this the stretch doesn’t even hurt anymore. He can still feel the toy sitting inside him, but it doesn’t hurt anymore. Honestly, it feels really nice. Jungkook feels this constant pressure in his rim and whenever he clenches it, the pressure grows and becomes warm tingles. He really, really likes it, moaning into your kiss.

You break it because of how much he moans, having to giggle. Jungkook moans and then giggles too, eyes racing between yours.

"You're my treasure", you whisper, making his heart skip a beat. You lean down and begin kissing up and down the slope of his nose, caressing his cheek as you do.

"Fuck me please", he whispers, making your heart skip a beat. 

"That's so hot", you rasp, pecking his lips for good measure, before shimmying between his legs again, "does the toy feel good?"

"Yeah. I want to be fucked", he says, parting his legs.

"So sexy", you mumble, wrapping your fingers around the flat base. You pull it out slowly and carefully, watching hungrily as his hole opens up and gives up the toy.

Jungkook grunts and exhales loudly.

"Too much?"

"Keep going." 

You look back at the toy and push it back inside. 

"Woah ah", he moans, arching his back and dropping it a second later. 

"I assume you like it?" you ask, moving the toy in a slow rhythm. In and out. In and out. In and out.

"Yeah…" Jungkook sighs, falling into this soft cloud of warm pleasure and scrambled thoughts. There is warmth. This really, really deep warmth sitting right inside his butt. Just a little past his hole and gathered at this one spot. It ebbs and flows in intensity each time you move the toy over it. Jungkook doesn’t know whether to moan or curse or sob. It feels so good. 

He never felt so warm before. 

"Don't stop", he begs, "please don’t stop."

"I won’t. This is so much fun", you say, voice raspy in arousal, "you look so pretty getting fucked." 

Jungkook knows that you are talking to him, but can’t really answer. He is riding the sensations. There is nothing else reaching his brain except this intense warmth. The music is unable to reach him, your voice sounds far away, the softness of the sheets is unimportant and even the aching of his cock seems too small to care about. 

All that reaches him clearly is the warmth in his butt, the soft stretch of the toy, the sensation of the shaft grinding against his rim. The warmth. This goddamn warmth. 

"I'm so hot", he croaks, tensing his tummy.

"Yeah? That’s so good", you answer him, forcing warmth up through his veins. 

"Oh god", he croaks, reaching between his legs to hold your wrists.

You stop moving and look at his face. 

"Is it too much?"

"Can we try something else?" 

"Of course. What should we do?"

"I want to be on all fours. Like you sometimes."

"Hot." 

"Can we try t-that." he asks with pleading eyes. 

"Of course love, I’ll slip out now."

Jungkook whimpers at the emptiness which follows, wasting no time and getting on all fours. He lowers himself to his elbows and looks over his shoulder.

"Like this?" you ask him, mesmerised by his exposed hole. It looks so wet and soft.

"Like this", he says, breathing heavily as his eyes run over your face. He is so, so excited to be stuffed again.

You put new lube on the toy and push it back inside him, feeling your breath hitch from how easily he takes it. There is no resistance or struggle, just complete eagerness to get stuffed.

"Yes", Jungkook moans, dropping his head, "yes, y-yes." 

The toy slipped inside so easily, he can’t believe how nice that felt. Now that he is so exposed and his hole stretches naturally, taking the toy is the easiest task ever. He pushes back and takes even more of the smooth toy. He tingles, feels it dance up his body and make his head dizzy. He wants to chase it and keep riding on that sensation.

You meet his rhythm, eyes focused on his pretty hole and how well it takes the toy. You think that it’s the hottest view ever, thrusting the toy in and out of him slowly as Jungkook keeps on squirming his hips and twisting the sheets.

"Yes, ah yes, ye-yes", he is moaning so much, soaking your panties with it. You are seriously so wet and needy. You have never seen Jungkook like this. Bear in mind, Jungkook became brave enough to moan and gasp and openly enjoy sex, but tonight he is almost lewd because of how into it he is. Lewd and scandalous for Jungkook standards and that gets you going so good. 

The toy moves inside his hole easily, fucking him open in the gentle rhythm you guide it with. His hips stopped moving, now that he knows you’ll keep up the sensations. He is arching his back however, looking so pretty doing it.

"I'm so wet", you rasp, "Koo, it’s so hot."

"It's so good", he croaks out and then moans again because that is all he can do. He doesn’t even feel embarrassed about how loud he was being. He doesn’t want to be quiet or hold back. It feels so good and you need to know. 

The warmth in his ass feels even more intense now that you are doing it doggy. Because his hole is so exposed, you can shift the toy so much deeper. And because of the angle of his hips, the toy graces that area of warmth even more precisely. Jungkook cries happy tears with squeezed shut eyes, cock throbbing between his thighs and fingers twisting the sheets. And goddamn, he can’t stop moaning. He can’t stop. Doesn’t want to stop.

"You're so sexy", you say, "you're moaning so much, this is so hot." 

"I'm close", Jungkook confesses.

"Wow, really?" you gasp, "should I..like…wow", you moan, pressing your legs together, "should I touch your cock?" 

"Don't change anything", he gets out and resorts to moaning. 

"Okay, okay. Hot, this is so hot", you croak, eyes focused on his ass. He is tensing and shivering, thighs trembling and hole pulsating around the toy. It’s not always, but starts off as something occasional until it becomes more and more frequent and Jungkook’s moans pitch more and more.

He has reached the point of squeaking when those shakes and trembles are constant. 

Jungkook drops his face into the mattress and twists the sheets. That warmth has become fiery and he can’t stop convulsing around the toy. Back in the day, this would have been the moment where he stopped the scene in panic because of the uncontrollable nature of the sensation. But not anymore. Jungkook wants to come crashing down into the uncertainty head first and with open arms. And so he lets go of the edge and falls. 

Jungkook screams your name, muffling most of it in the mattress, and shakes like he has never done before. 

"Holy shit, wow", you gasp, feeling dizzy from the view. Jungkook is convulsing like crazy, thighs twitching and hips fucking back onto the toy. 

He doesn’t even know that he is fucking back. He also doesn’t know that he is squirting cum everywhere or that he was shaking that much. What he does know however is that he has never fallen harder before. It started in his ass right from that collection of warmth and then spread through his entire body like fire. 

Jungkook wails and sobs, it feels like something he will never ever forget again. He'll probably dream of it, think of it, day dream about it, miss it. He will miss it so much once it's gone. 

And he does. He misses it unbearably once his high stops and you pull out of him. He feels so fulfilled and exhausted and yet still misses it.  

"Jungkook wow", you say, touching his buttocks, "how are you feeling?" 

"Good", he gets out and drops on the sheets, burying his sensitive cock in the puddle of its own cum. He is so spent that he doesn’t even care about that.

You kiss his butt then kiss your way up his spine until you can nuzzle into his neck, arms cradling him against your chest. 

Jungkook giggles, feeling tingly all over. 

"You were incredible, my baby", you praise, kissing his cheek, "was it good for you?"

"I don't think I ever came like that before", he lulls.

"I know, it’s what you call a prostate orgasm. Normally it takes a few tries to get it right, so I'm really surprised we got there on our first try. You must have been really into it."

"It, it was warm. My butt. It, it was so warm inside. Like…fire or maybe electricity or lava. I don’t know, I never felt like that before. It was so warm and I wanted to tense my entire body because of it", he babbles. 

"Yeah? It’s the best isn’t it?" 

Jungkook nods his head vigorously, earning himself a kiss on his temple.

"You're so cute, Koo", you whisper, "you had a prostate orgasm, a thousand percent."

"A prostate orgasm", he whispers and sighs, “wow.” He feels so far away from the world. As if you and him were floating on warm clouds far, far above the ground. He could fall asleep, seriously. He is so, so exhausted and sleepy and happy and fuzzy.

"Congrats baby", you say and giggle, feeling so happy for him.

"I only had it because you are amazing", he says and opens his eyes, vision blurry from his happy tears, “thank you so much.”

You grin, “so we can say that the mission was successful?”

He pouts and spills tears, whimpering softly as he nods his head. He feels so proud of himself.

“Hey Kookie, don’t cry. Gosh, it’s alright”, you gasp, cupping his cheek.

“I love you so much”, he hiccups, “I'm so happy”, he croaks and smiles honestly.

“Gosh, I love you too. Come here baby, come here”, you say, leaning down to kiss his tears away. 

Needless to say, Jungkook is so happy that he took that adventure and he hopes that in the near future you want to go on it with him again.

#jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook oneshot #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #sub!jungkook #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts oneshot #bts scenario #bts x reader #bts x you #sub!bts #bangtan smut #bangtan scenario #bangtan fanfic #bangtan x reader #bangtan x you #sub!bangtan #fanfic: kinktober22

[shina913]

On Tilt, Part 6 | KNJ

On Tilt, Part 6

Definition: a poker term for a state of mental or emotional confusion or frustration in which a player adopts a suboptimal strategy, usually resulting in the player becoming overly aggressive.

On Tilt Masterlist

Pairing: Namjoon x Fem!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: idol!AU; strangers-to-FWB-to-lovers; toxic relationship; angst; fluff; smut

Warnings: cussing; dirty talk; neck kisses; heavy petting; nipple play; clit play; body worship; oral (mutual); protected sex; switch!Namjoon; switch!reader

Word count: 5.6K+ words

Summary: You’ve said time and time again that you wouldn’t lose yourself to him. You were in control now. You were going to make better choices. For a minute there, you were able to keep up with it. It wasn’t ‘til Namjoon’s extended break that you found yourself falling into old habits. Will you ever learn to quit Kim Namjoon?

A/N: It's been a long time! If you're still following along, thank you for being patient! I hope to write more frequently. I haven't been inspired to finish much of my wips but I hope you'll enjoy this chapter! I've missed these two.

"I don't know... I think the second half of it seems..." Namjoon sighs, trying to think of an adjective. "Lame?"

"I don't think so," Jon, his co-producer, disagrees.

“Are you sure? I feel like we should add more to it. My vocals sound kind of flat.”

Namjoon, despite having 1,001 tasks to complete before his album release, had also agreed to do a feature verse on a track for one of his industry friends. He sits in one corner of the room, his gaze fixed on the large screen displaying multiple layers of squiggly waves that represent the various instrumental and vocal tracks he’s recorded.

Jon has worked with him long enough to know when he’s actually giving notes or just being nitpicky.

“Your vocals are fine,” he says reassuringly. “Your verse is perfect–it really fits the song!”

Namjoon sighs heavily, still feeling some apprehension. His phone buzzes and he glances at it to read a text message. “Ah, good. He’s on his way. Maybe he can give me some input on this. He’s got a great ear for these kind of things.”

“Ouch, bro,” Jon feigns offense as he cleans up the track layers some more.

Namjoon turns apologetic immediately. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that we’ve been at this for a few weeks and I just want to get a different perspective?”

A minute later, the door to his studio opens, and in comes Yoongi.

"Hey, you got here fast!" Namjoon greets Yoongi. Yoongi nods in acknowledgment. "I was already on this floor when you texted, so I thought I'd swing by before my next appointment. What's up?"

Namjoon motions for Jon to play the track for Yoongi. He observes his teammate and frequent co-producer tilt his head to the side and close his eyes. He always does this when he wants to analyze the track by ear.

Once the track ends, Namjoon anticipates his comments.

“Can you try it without the cymbals in the bridge and drop the echo off the doubling track?”

Jon nods, clicks on a few functions, and plays the song according to Yoongi's notes. Hearing the track with the new modifications, Yoongi and Namjoon make eye contact. They both nod their heads enthusiastically to the beat. No other words are exchanged, but the smiles on their faces and the subsequent high-five provide enough reassurance.

******

“Thanks for the input, hyung. I appreciate it.” Namjoon walks Yoongi out of his studio.

“It’s nothing! We’re still a team even though we’re all off doing our own stuff at the moment.”

Namjoon silently agrees, then raises a hand to rub his eyes while trying to suppress a yawn. They pause for a moment, standing in front of each other in the quiet hallway.

“Tired?”

"I've accepted my fate of being tired forever," Namjoon laughs wryly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know why I assumed that completing my album would bring me some relief and relaxation.”

"Ah, it'll pass." To a stranger, his deadpan tone might sound insincere, but Namjoon knows that he means it in a consoling manner. "Are you excited about your launch party?”

“Yeah, I am. And I’m taking YN with me!” There was a sense of pride and comfort in the way he said it.

Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot upward. “Are you?”

“You think it’s a bad idea?”

Yoongi shakes his head and smiles. “Not in the least bit. Have you told PD-nim?”

Namjoon nods. “He was cool with it. She’ll be there as my guest but we agreed that her presence there isn’t an ‘announcement’ or anything like that. Still, I’m confident that we’ll be safe since she and I will be interacting out in the open instead of sneaking around.”

It was simple logic. Photos weren’t worth much to tabloids if they were professionally taken with the subject’s consent.

Yoongi laughs at the rationale but he can’t deny that his friend makes a good point. “I’m glad you’ve got something worked out. And she’s okay with all that?”

Namjoon’s head tilts slightly and his shoulders shrug. “Apprehensive at first but I let her know that the front office was supportive so that helped convince her and made her feel safe about going.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows rose and his lips twitch upon hearing his last comment but he caught himself and managed to force a smile. “Good. That’s…good. I’m really glad to hear that.” It wasn’t fair to project his personal grievances with management toward his friend.

Realizing his misstep, his excitement is replaced with a pang of guilt. “Shit, I’m sorry, hyung,” he grimaces. “I didn’t mean to come off insensitive, especially after what happened to–”

Yoongi cuts him off. “Nah, don’t feel guilty about it. I’m happy that you’re happy. I’m glad that you have someone who supports you and that you’ve found ways to compromise.” His sober expression makes Namjoon’s face falter.

It hasn’t been long since Yoongi and his partner split up. It was a few weeks before the hiatus announcement but by then, they’d had enough and decided to move onto separate ways.

“I’m really sorry that you couldn’t figure out a middle ground between the label and–”

Yoongi waves his hand in mid-air to stop Namjoon from bringing up something that is still fresh in his mind. There was a time and place to be vulnerable but this moment wasn’t it. “S’okay. We tried…for a long time…” He sighs and finishes with a shrug, effectively dropping the subject.

“Anyway, speaking of PD-nim, what did you think of last week’s contract meeting?” Yoongi asks to shift the focus away from him. “Have you thought about what you wanted to do for the next year?”

Namjoon exhales and confidently answers, “Yep. I’m taking the option for the longer hiatus.”

A few weeks ago, the label held a meeting with all team members, offering different paths for their careers. They could either continue pursuing solo activities or 'take a break' by having a more flexible schedule and the option to choose the projects they want to participate in.

“Wow. Really? Even with all of the offers to collaborate?” Yoongi bulges his eyes out at his friend knowingly.

Two years ago, Namjoon would have been tripping over his feet if he ever got a call from his idols for a dream collaboration. Now that the group has hit record-breaking fame in the world stage, each member’s time was in high demand.

“I did that one song last summer with my idol and crossed that off my bucket list. I don’t need to be greedy by entertaining every request,” he laughs. “It’s also an opportunity for me to take a break and find a new sound.”

Although Namjoon's new album has not been released yet, Yoongi does not argue because he understands that as an artist, one needs to constantly evolve. As soon as you finish one project, you should already be in the midst of planning the next one.

“That’s fair,” Yoongi concedes. “Was this decision influenced by a certain someone?”

“Yes and no,” Namjoon admits. “She’s a factor but it's my own decision. It’s what’s best for me…for us. I owe it to her.”

“Is she collecting a debt?”

Namjoon laughs. “No, no. She didn’t say that. In fact, I haven’t told her that we had that meeting. All I know is that I made a commitment to her and I plan on sticking to it. Walk the walk, you know?”

“I guess it’s good that she didn’t talk you into it. The last thing you want is to make hasty, emotional decisions then regret them later.”

“Hyung, I swear I’m not being hasty or emotional about this.”

“Alright,” Yoongi relents. “Just saying, I’d hate for you to feel regret or resentment if things don’t pan out.”

The truth was, Namjoon had that thought buried in the far corner of his mind, but he wouldn't let it deter him. He believed that fate brought the two of you back together and he was determined to do everything he could to make the best out of this second chance. Things will work out this time.

They have to.

You're in a rush to send out two more emails before the holiday weekend. These emails are crucial for sealing the deals for two of your clients. One has received interest from a film production company that wants to buy the rights to their novel and turn it into a movie. The other client is preparing for wider distribution after self-publishing the first edition of their book.

Your phone starts to buzz after you send off one email.

“Hey, I just got here. Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up?” Namjoon walks through your front door then pockets his keys, which include a copy of your house keys. It was a huge step for you and your relationship.

He was bringing food from the restaurant that you two were supposed to have dinner at. But after a client call ran long and a few other last-minute tasks piled up, you asked if you could reschedule. Instead, he was insistent and completely fine with the idea of spending the night in.

“I’m sure. I drove so I have to bring my car home anyway.”

“But you could leave it at the garage and I can have my manager pick it up tomorrow.”

You laugh at his offer. He just really wanted you home. “Why don’t you let the man enjoy a decent weekend off, for once?”

“Alright,” he relents. “I’ll be here waiting. I’ve got wine chilling in the fridge and pasta and chicken, just like you asked.”

You acknowledge all the effort he’s putting in. He’s been sleep-deprived the entire week but he was still determined to spend time with you. Still, you take the opportunity to tease him. “You know that kind of behavior will get you laid.”

“Look, I don’t really care if anything happens tonight,” he says simply. “I only wanted to bring dinner and be with you.”

“Mm-hm,” you hum in amusement. “What kind of pasta did you get?” You ask him as a test.

He answers with your favorite. It’s been so long and yet he still knew. “That’s it! I’m getting on my knees as soon as I walk through the door!”

A low laugh escapes him. “Not if I get you on your back first.”

His response makes you want to log off this second and rush home to him. 

Unfortunately, even if you leave the office, you still need to continue working from home. However, you would rather put 100% of your focus on him. So, you decide to stay until you finish everything.

Two hours later, you walk through the door. The room is dark and quiet, with the only light coming from the television. Namjoon is snoring in the living room.

He stirs when you brush his hair back to kiss his forehead from behind the couch.

"Hi," he says, his lips curving into a languid smile as he blinks his eyes open.

"Sorry, I'm late."

"It's cool." He stretches his arms and sits up. "Have you eaten?"

"No. Have you?" You ask him.

He shakes his head as well. "I'll heat up the food in the oven—"

"No, let’s go to bed so you can go back to sleep," you suggest. It's been a long day and fatigue is setting in. However, Namjoon gets up from the couch, shakes his head adamantly, and laughs. "You know that I know that there's no way you'll have a good night's sleep while hungry."

Just before you protest, your stomach growls, betraying you. He knows you well enough. With a snort, he takes your hand and guides you to the kitchen.

*******

After dinner and a quick shower for you, you get a second wind and decide to watch some late-night TV. It was a weekend, and Namjoon didn't have to be at the office until late the next evening.

He gazes at the week-old gardenia arrangement that he brought over when you first moved in and wonders aloud, "I'll never understand why you keep holding onto these until they're completely dead. Just throw them away and I'll get you fresh flowers!"

"I like them when they’re in this in-between stage of brown and white. They have a stronger scent and I love it," you explain.

"Yeah, but the aesthetic is—" He clicks his teeth in distaste.

"Forget about the aesthetic! I think it smells romantic," you say confidently.

At first, he furrows his brows at your strange remark. But instead of arguing, he’s endeared. He shakes his head and chuckles, returning his attention to the TV.

You and Namjoon are on the couch, watching old reruns of a show that you've seen many times before. Despite the outdated punchlines, you still find them funny years later. You're sitting sideways while your legs, covered by a throw blanket, rest comfortably on his lap. Instead of watching the show with him, your gaze is fixed on his profile. At the sound of a joke you both had heard before, he still lets out a guffaw, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement as if hearing it for the very first time. His laughter makes your heart swell so much that it feels as if you could float away.

At that moment, as his laughs subside and the scent of wilted gardenias fills the room, you utter, "I love you." You can feel your heart pounding in your chest.

He slowly turns his head to face you, his eyes searching yours. After a few beats that feel like an eternity, he says, "Say that again."

Suddenly feeling shy, you giggle like a schoolgirl and attempt to hide under your blanket, but he pulls it off, revealing your flushed cheeks.

"Please say it again," he says, grinning and patiently waiting.

You take a deep breath, savoring the moment. You purse your lips for a few seconds, then smile back at him. "I love you," you say softly, but with conviction.

He throws his head back dramatically, clutching his chest as if he's been shot, before collapsing onto the bed with a theatrical flourish.

Giggling at his antics, you playfully shove his side and tell him, "Stop being so dramatic!"

"I'm not being dramatic! I'm in love," he declares with a sigh.

You’re mildly irritated by his response. “You know, if you’re just going to joke about this—”

Just as you turn serious, he does the same. “I would never joke. Not when it comes to you.”

This was a huge step for both of you and it was the first time you’d actually said the words to each other. Years ago, he used to say that labels and verbal declarations of feelings were ‘superficial’. Anybody can say ‘I love you’ but never really grasp the full weight of it. He was all about ‘showing’ not ‘telling.’

The old you thought that made a lot of sense. It sounded logical. And because you were actually in love with him then, you believed it.

You swallow the lump in your throat. "I want you to know that this is still scary for me. This isn’t like when we were sleeping around at the dorms or hotels. The stakes are higher now."

He turns his body toward you. He cradles your legs with one arm and circles the other around your waist to pull you closer.

“I really fucked things up by not telling you how I felt and ignoring your needs. I was selfish and a coward.”

You shake your head gently at how he was placing all the blame on himself. “We were young and had a lot of growing up to do. Both of us needed that time apart.”

He looks at you with a mix of regret and determination in his eyes. "I recognize that now," he says softly. "And I want to do better and be better for you. Things will be different this time."

His words fill you with hope, and you feel your heart fill with warmth as you realize that he is committed to making things work between you.

The thought of it also turns you on wildly. You lean in and press your lips to his. “Take me to bed,” you whisper.

He pulls back slightly and stares into your eyes. “I’m not saying these things just to get it in,” he chuckles. “Like I said, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want—”

“I know,” you interrupt gently before your lips curve into a smile. “Let me worry about what I want. And what I want, is for us to go to bed.”

Nodding, he switches the TV off and you both walk upstairs into your bedroom.

******

You walk into the room, with him following closely behind. As you turn to face him, he stops in his tracks, cautiously anticipating your next move.

You reach up and cup his face in your hands. He closes his eyes, reveling in your touch. Tilting your chin up, he meets halfway, and seals his mouth to yours. The kiss starts soft and sweet, but quickly builds up to a fever pitch.

Desire surges through you, and he matches your fervor. His fingers grip the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. He groans against your lips, making those low, sexy sounds that you turn you on. Your hands explore his chest, feeling every inch of him. Just as you're about to lose control, he breaks the kiss.

He spins you around, your back pressed against him, caging you while his hand roams all around your front.  You threw your head back in a low moan as he nipped at your neck, grinding his hard cock between your ass cheeks.

He wraps his arms around you and nuzzles your neck. His heavy breaths send shivers down your spine.

“How did I get so lucky?” he whispers as his teeth graze your earlobe.

"I wouldn't call it luck," you murmur breathlessly, shifting your head to give him better access to your throat. "...More like a well-deserved outcome," you finish. He runs his nose down the slope of your neck, and you feel him smile against it.

"I'm really trying to control myself," he sighs. "But I'd be lying if I said I haven't spent a lot of time fantasizing about how this evening would go."

You release a pained groan, squirming as he lazily sucks on your neck. "Tell me," you say.

He pauses his ministrations, giving you a chance to break away and turn to face him.

“Tell me about your fantasies,” you say to him.

Namjoon teasingly swipes his tongue between his lips and leans forward. “I can tell you and show you.”

In anticipation, your chest rises as you inhale sharply and bite your lower lip. It was all the consent he needed.

"First of all, you're wearing too many clothes," he smirks.

You reach for the hem of your sleep shirt, intending to pull it off, but he stops you. He gently wags his finger and tuts. "In my fantasy, I do all the work."

You release the material and relinquish control to him. Wrapping his arms around you, he repeats your earlier action and pulls your shirt up. You lift your arms above your head, allowing him to easily slip it off you. As he leans in, you anticipate a kiss, but he surprises you by tossing you over his shoulder.

He walks across the room, and his hand reaches down to tug on your panties, pulling them below the curve of your ass. You yelp as he spanks you hard enough to sting.

He sits you down on the mattress and crouches in front of you. As he pulls your panties past your bare feet, he asks, “Are you good, baby?”

“Yeah.” You smile and touch his cheek. The moment of tenderness makes your heartbeat stutter as if he wasn’t just about to ravish you seconds later.

He nods and flashes a dimple before he picks up where he left off.

He plants a soft kiss on your inner thigh. “Are you ready for me?”

You arch an eyebrow at him in response. “The better question is, are you ready for me?”

You let out another squeal when Namjoon jerks your hips to the very edge of the bed with your legs on either side of him, exposing your center to his gaze.

“You’re going to be sorry you said that.”

You pushed at his shoulder, challenging him. “Teach me a lesson, then.”

He presses your thighs wide with gentle hands, his thumb stroking over your clit, pleasure pulsing through you.

He lowers his voice to a dangerously low tone. “You know, I’m trying to set the pace here but you’re no help.” He gets some revenge when he pulls his shirt over his head.

“You know I can take it,” you say as evenly as possible while trying not to drool over the sight of his bare chest.

“I know you can,” he murmurs. “But I want this to last a while.” Your stomach tightens when he lowers his head. As soon as his tongue licks through your folds, you grasp desperately at the sheets beneath you and fall back onto the mattress. He parts you with his fingers, teasing your sensitive flesh while you keen and writhe in pleasure.

“I’ve imagined this so many different ways,” he purred, teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue. Your hips buck but he holds you firmly down.

“On my bed.” He sucks. “In my studio.” And licks.

“In the back room of the restaurant that I took you to on our first date after we had the no-sex conversation.”

“God. Namjoon,” You moan pathetically, dizzy at the sight of him savoring you.

“I imagine pinning you down,” he went on roughly, “Giving it to you all night…your nipples swollen from me sucking on them. The room filled with all those sexy sounds you do…when I make you cum over and over…” He gives your clit one long suction.

You whimper, biting your lip as he flutters his tongue. He has one of your legs hooked over his bare shoulder. The heat from his skin burns the flesh behind your knee.

“Yes, I want all that,” Your hands roam over your breasts, pinching at your aching nipples for relief.

He grins mischievously. “I know.” He continues to suck on your bundle of nerves, teasing you relentlessly as your climax builds up further. With his lips still wrapped around your clit, he slides two fingers into your soaked opening, curling them upward to massage your inner walls.

You gasp sharply at the assault when he pumps into you. Hips moving of their own volition, grinding into his greedy mouth.

You climax with a breathless cry, your legs shaking with the rush of release after months of pent-up tension between you.

You were still coming down from your high when his body loomed over you. He shoves his bottoms down just enough to free his cock.

You watch as he carefully slips a condom down his length. Wanting to feel him in your hands, you attempt to reach for it, but he catches you by your wrist. He brings your hand to his lips and kisses the inside before pinning your hands above your head.

His eyes studies your face, his lips still glistening from your orgasm, his chest heaving. You blink up at him in wonder and ask yourself, 'how did you get so lucky'?

“I love you,” he pants.

“I love you,” you reply before he slides his length between your folds. He pushes in, parting the slick opening.

He buries his face in your throat with a groan, then surges inside you. He gasps your name, slowly grinding his hips against you, trying to get deeper.

His hips work in a steady rhythm. The feel of him inside you, stretching you, drives you crazy. You shift and wrap your legs around him for leverage and meet his thrusts.

His lips brushed against your temple. “Fuck, you feel so good. I don’t think I can last much longer…but I…I want to—“

He sounded apologetic, but he didn’t need to. Your throat tightens. “I don’t care. I’m not going anywhere. Don’t stop!”

He pulls out, lifts your ass, then thrusts deeply.  You moan helplessly, your cunt squeezing him greedily. “Fuck yes…” you hiss. “Harder. Fuck me harder.”

He strokes into you and you writhe under him, your thighs grasping his hips. Digging his knees in, he gives you what you begged for and fucks relentlessly into you. His cock plunges deeply, over and over, breathing naughty fantasies into your ear and pushing you closer to another climax.

Your core tenses and your clit throbs with every slam of his hips against yours. He pounds into you, every muscle in his body flexing.

“I’m gonna cum so hard for you,” he strains, sweat sliding down his temple.

The promise of him filling you sets you off, and before you know it, you come undone for him again, your pussy spasming furiously. The obscene sounds of hot, sweaty fucking fills your bedroom while he chases his own climax.

He slows down his movements deliberately, and with one final stroke, you feel him spurting inside of you. Rough sounds of satisfaction rumble from his chest and resonate against your sweat-slicked skin.

He lies there for a moment, his heartbeat gradually slowing to a steady rhythm. When he lifts his head, his fingers run through your hair.

Namjoon cradles your face in his hands and kisses you. “Thank you.”

“What are you thanking me for? You did all the work,” you laugh.

His slow smile showed pure satisfaction. “I’m only grateful for the privilege.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Stop,” you giggle. “You’re just saying that because you’re horny.”

“Nah, I’m love-drunk,” he grins lazily before planting another kiss on your lips. You’re so endeared…as if you couldn’t love him anymore.

He flops on the bed beside you, and you rest a hand on his chest, patting it softly. "By the way, top-tier fantasy," you remark.

Turning to face you, his smile widens and he mischievously squints at you. “Oh, you thought that was it?” He laughs. “We haven’t even gotten through the half of it!”

The thought of being the recipient of Namjoon’s insatiable desire for you sends a flutter of excitement through your body.

******

You are jolted awake by a dream you had. In it, you were falling into a bottomless pit.

Your heart races as you quickly turn your head to the other side of the bed, where Namjoon is sleeping soundly.

You’d been at each other for at least two hours before both of you passed out from exhaustion and fell asleep.

You carefully slide out of bed, trying not to wake him, and make your way to the bathroom.

When you reenter the bedroom, the scene before you takes your breath away. Namjoon is sprawled across your bed, with one arm tossed over his head and the other draped across his chest. When you were shopping for a mattress, it seemed excessive to get one so huge. However, now that you see his feet resting comfortably on the bed instead of dangling off it, it doesn't seem like such a bad investment after all.

God, he was breathtaking. When he was onstage, he exuded an unstoppable force, trained to be the object of many people’s fantasies. And yet, you were the only one who could bring him to his knees.

He shifts as you climb onto the bed. He blinks up at you.

“Hey, come here.” He sounds drowsy, but you find it incredibly sexy.

“I love you,” you say as you lower yourself into his outstretched arms. His warm skin is perfect for snuggling. Seeing him like this makes you want to be close to him, but in a different way.

He kisses you deeply, but you pull away just in time to regain control. “I'm not done with you,” he warns. Despite already going three rounds (that you can recall), he shamelessly craves more. Admittedly, so do you.

You gently place your pointer finger on his lips and shake your head. "It's my turn."

He raises an eyebrow in curiosity.

“We spent all night living out your fantasies but didn’t even get to mine. Not fair–that’s not how this relationship is supposed to work,” you pout.

“I’m sorry,” he says sweetly, brushing your cheek with his finger. “What do you want, my love?”

You wrap your legs around his thigh and rub against it, letting him feel that you are already wet for him. The friction makes you moan, as does the promise of being naughty.

You kiss him, press your body against him. “Two things.”

His finger grazes your forehead. “Anything.”

“One, I want to taste you,” you whisper then glance downward at his crotch.

His teeth sink into his bottom lip, already into it. “And the second thing?”

This is when you try to hold back your excitement. “You have to be very, very still.”

He’s suddenly puzzled. “Huh?”

“I want you to keep your hands to yourself while I work on you,” you state.

He groans in frustration. “You know that’s impossible–”

“Just trust me!”

Eventually, he acquiesces. “Alright. How do you want me?”

You purse your lips and motion for him to sit up against the headboard, and he obliges. You lift his arms and direct him to hold onto the gaps in the frame.

Next, you grab hold of his boxers' waistband and he lifts his hips to assist you. As you pull them past his feet, you ask, "Are you good, baby?"

“Yes,” he answers with a gentle smirk.

You spread his thighs apart, but before you position yourself between them, you lean forward to give him a kiss. He instinctively embraces you, with one hand pushing into your hair and the other resting on the small of your back, urging you to come closer.

Clearing your throat, you flick your eyes to his hands, giving him a warning look. He smiles, suddenly remembering one of your stipulations, and lets his hands fall to his sides.

You press a light kiss to his lips before moving your mouth across his cheek, down to his throat. Your tongue darts out to lick his golden skin before latching on, causing him to let out a pained growl. You graze him with your teeth, leaving a mark. Rough sounds of pleasure vibrate against your lips.

Pulling back, you admire the bright red bruise you left and giggle triumphantly at your handiwork. “Mine.”

"Yours," he vows with hooded eyes.

"Good answer." Pleased, you continue to move lower, finding and teasing his nipples. You lick over them, around them, then blow. Namjoon hisses and growls at the shot of cool air against his sensitized skin. He resists the temptation to roll you onto your back and pin you to the mattress, but instead, he grips the headboard tighter, his knuckles turning white.

As you make your way down his torso, you feel his entire body tighten with anticipation. When your tongue rims his belly button, his hips jerk up.

If he only knew just how excited you were to see him in this state. You want to reward him for having this much obedience and self-control.

With your hands on his inner thighs, you urge him to spread open wider, giving you room to settle comfortably. Dipping your head, your lips part, and you give his cock a precursory lick.

“Fuuucking…hell…” he growls.

It sends another wave of arousal through you. Wrapping your lips around him, you give him back what he gave you last night. Using only your mouth, you worship him, sucking gently and caressing him with your tongue.

He mutters a mix of curses and praises, feeling both lost and dizzy with pleasure.

You pause for a moment and tease him. “You like that?”

He sits up on his elbows, and looks at you wryly. “No, I hate every second it!”

You laugh then wrap your lips around his tip and hum.

“Aaaahh…fuck me. What the fuck,” he groans at the vibration. You see his eyes roll to the back of his head. “Deeper, please,” he begs.

Since he asked so nicely, you oblige and take him in completely until the tip reaches the back of your throat.

He cries out, his back arching as if he wants to pull away, but you hold onto him with your lips and hands, cupping and massaging, encouraging him to reach the peak of pleasure.

“Fuck…fuck…” he chokes out, fighting every urge to wrap his hand around your nape to control the pace. He knows you’re enjoying this too much and the thought of it sends him into a frenzy. His thighs ached with strain, muscles hardening by the force it took to restrain himself.

You feel his balls tighten and you know he’s close. Hollowing your cheeks, you bob your head at an even pace, swirling your tongue around his length simultaneously.

“Ahh, baby, I’m gonna cum…fuck…”

In the same moment that you pull off, he grunts and spurts right at your chest. You sit up and lean back on your heels, pumping him with your fist to prolong and intensify the sensation. You can feel the contractions against your fingertips, pulsing from his flesh as he lets out a drawn-out groan.

When his body calms down, you release him and move to lay by his side.

After a few beats, he croaks out, "Am I allowed to touch you now?"

With a playful giggle, you give him permission. Finally, his heavy arm shifts, blindly searching to pull you closer. You snuggle into his embrace, feeling his heartbeat gradually steadying against yours as he plants a kiss on the top of your head. Both of you collapse in a tired, satisfied heap, but you loved it.

And you loved him.

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Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

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[thewulf]

Here For You || JJ Maybank

Summary: Request - could you write a jj maybank and sister where she has a panic attack and he helps?

A/N - Ahhh I just cannot get enough of a good old hurt/comfort. This was a little different of a write since its an X sister! insert but I had a really good time writing it. A little shorter than usual but I really like it! Thanks for the request @obxlover14

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k+

TW: Talks of Breakdowns, anxiety, overwhelming feelings etc.

It always happened when you least expected. The panic came over in a massive wave that engulfed your entirety seemingly out of nowhere. You’d been stressing out a little lately. Getting older meant decisions had to be made. Were you going to try and go to college? Or were you simply going to stay on the island and find weird jobs after graduating high school being the disappointment your dad expected from you? These thoughts consumed you whole making it hard to think of anything else. You started ruminating on it and before you knew it hot tears were streaming down your face.

It usually didn’t get this bad. You were normally able to stop you brain from going this far down the spiral it so often wanted to. You were a complete and utter mess who hid it well from the others. Ever since your mother left nearly ten years ago your father become more and more abusive as the years ticked on. Attributing that to your anxiety all you wanted to do was get the hell out. You knew JJ wanted to as well and he could. He turned eighteen a few months ago. But he waited around for you. Far too terrified at the thought of leaving you alone with your shared father. If you could even call him that anymore.

You found a wall in the hallway leading up to the kitchen and leaned back on it. Sliding down you brought your knees in close to your chest trying to huddle in on yourself. Bringing your hands up your tried to rub the anxiety away from your face to no avail. You tried your normal methods of calming down but was coming up devastatingly short. Tears kept slipping out of your eyes as your tried to slow your every increasing heart rate. Thank God your father was at work, you couldn’t imagine the ass beating that would come from a breakdown. Only further deteriorating your already rapidly declining mental state.

Not having a clue how long you were sitting there you tried your best counting back from a hundred. Trying to ground yourself in the moment. But you just couldn’t seem to get the hang of it. You kept losing track and having to restart after your mind started playing those normal tricks on you.

You felt a gentle hand on your shoulder breaking you from the trance you were seemingly locked in on. Head snapping around you met the familiar blue eyes of your older brother. Normally happy go lucky but a growing concern clouded his vision as he looked you over.

He grabbed at the hand that was grabbing at your own face, prying it away from its grasp, “Hey kid, there you are.” His smile was anything but real but he was trying his best to get you comfortable. It wasn’t all the often he came home to you cowering in on yourself on the floor unresponsive to his calls.

“I’m sorry.” You looked at him with wide eyes as you came back to the present. How long were you sitting there? A few seconds? Minutes? Hours? You hadn’t a damn clue.

He ignored you continuing, “Are you okay? I called out for you a few times.” He looked you over only giving a soft sigh once he concluded you were physically fine. Mentally he hadn’t any idea what you were going through.

You nodded before looking away. Suddenly embarrassed by your episode, “I’m okay JJ.” You voice rasped out sounding like it hadn’t been used in weeks. Were you yelling? Why did it sound so hoarse?

“That’s not very believable kid.” He sat down next to you letting you know he wasn’t planning on going anywhere until you stated speaking. As gently as JJ could manage he brushed your hair out of your face.

“Well, you better believe it.” You offered a rather pathetic smile. Again, not terrible believable and JJ clocked it.

“Come on, spill.” He spoke waiting on your response.

You looked him over. He didn’t look very thrilled with you. It was more out of concern than anything else, but it still made you terribly embarrassed. It seemed so pathetic, especially when you tried to explain it out loud.

“I’m just overwhelmed J.” You sighed in defeat not really wanting to go into much more detail.

He cocked his head to the side ever so slightly as if trying to read your cryptic mind. Sure he was your sibling but he wasn’t a miracle worker. He didn’t know the ins and outs of what kept your mind racing, “What about?”

“The future.” You answered honestly not trying to hide it from it. He’d get the answer he wanted from you anyway.

He gave you the first genuine smile of the afternoon, “You’re only a Junior. You’ve got some time to figure it out.”

You shook your head, “Applications are due soon. I don’t even know if I want to go to college. What will I do there? I can’t waste any time there. Don’t have the money too…” You began to babble.

He placed a grounding hand on your shoulder, “Relax, Y/N.”

“I can’t JJ!” You snapped. Eyes wide. You rarely yelled at your older brother. You knew better.

He ignored your outburst once again and placed a second hand on your other shoulder, “I need you to breathe after me. Alright?”

You nodded watching him closely. Mimicking his actions slowly. Breathing in for a second longer than you wanted and out. Copying him for a few minutes did actually help as your breathing slowed which also dropped your heartrate.

A few more tears slipped down your face as you calmed down. Thank goodness for your older brother being able to break you from the entrapment of your mind. After one last shaky breath your eyes met his once again. He looked nervous. It was an expression your rarely, if ever, saw on your older brother and you were sure it was because of you. What a time to have a mental fucking breakdown.

“I’m sorry J.” You breathed out in more of a whisper once again embarrassed by your very own whisper.

He shook his head, “Don’t say sorry. That’s what I’m here for kid.” Knowing that you were somewhat okay he reached over and wrapped you into his arm giving you one big squeeze. JJ adored you, his younger sister by a few years. See, you were the best of the Maybank’s. As kind as they came and smarter than ever. JJ knew he had to get you off this island one way or another. After seeing you so panic stricken over everything JJ knew it wasn’t a matter of it but when. You were too good for this island. Bound for so much more even if you didn’t know it yet. JJ did.

You nodded into his shoulder not daring to say another word knowing it’d come out a shaky mess. It was nice letting yourself feel the comfort from somebody you loved and adored. JJ might not have known it but you always looked up to him. He was never afraid to speak his mind, make new friends, go on crazy adventures. He was the opposite of you and you adored that about him. He was so unashamed to be himself. It did get him into trouble more than you liked to admit.

He spoke up breaking you out of your quiet stupor once more, “You don’t have to be scared. That’s what I’m here. That’s what the pogues are here for. We’re here to talk, okay?”

You nodded knowing you would never actually take him seriously. It wasn’t your place to bother them with sixteen-year-old problems. They had their own shit to deal with. Own people to please.

“Hey, I’m serious.”

You hummed in acknowledgement. He wouldn’t take that as an answer though.

“Look at me kid.” He said more seriously than he had in this entire interaction with him.

You did as he said and waited.

“You’ve got to speak to me. Talk to me. Or somebody. You can’t let these emotions bottle up anymore. It’s okay if you’ve got to talk about it. But you can’t keep doing this to yourself.” He gave your hand a gentle squeeze letting you know he was there for you, always.

When you didn’t speak he finished, “I’m here for you kid.”

“I love you J.”

His smile reached his eyes, “I love you too kiddo. Forever and always. But you know that.”

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#jj maybank x you #jj obx #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks #obx fic #obx #jj maybank #jj maybank x sister reader #jj maybank x sister #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fic #jj maybank angst #jj maybank icons #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank obx #outer banks x reader #outer banks x you #outer banks x y/n #outer banks angst #outer banks imagine #outer banks icons #outer banks fluff #outer banks fic #outer banks cast

[darknessisafriend]

hi, can i have another request 👉👈 what about commodus not sleeping or barely sleeping for a long time (cause paranoia) and the reader is the only one who manages to calm him down and finally get him to have a good rest? with a side of Extra Cuddling please

Here it is! always such a pleasure to write Commodus! enjoy^^

Sleepless slumber

Dark and dreadful night, the owl on the roof, the cracking of the fire on the torches of the room, what a nightmare it had become for him, his thoughts running so loud that it became unbearable. How could people sleep so tight at night when there was so much to do? So much for the glory of Rome…

It had been weeks since Commodus had a restful night of sleep. At first, he had tried to come to bed under your encouragements, now he didn’t try anymore. He simply did not sleep. It had started to affect his physical and mental health already, he had grown more emotional, irritable and irrational, his paranoia growing while his body struggled to keep up with training during the day, missing his targets while shooting an arrow or not thinking strategically while fighting with his sword.

His eyes were red and teary as he blanky stared at his paperwork, unable to think clearly. He wanted to cry, to yell, to kill them all…his thoughts were briefly stopping as without realizing he could hear a white buzz in his ear, warning sign of another brief loss of consciousness like he had so often lately. His hold on his quill became lighter, the feather slipping from his hands and dropping on the paper, leaving an ink stain over the assassination list he was making.

“Commodus?” your voice startled him, but he could barely react, his mind clouded by exhaustion. You quickly approached him; this situation had gone for far too long. “Now you will go to sleep.” You stated severely, about to put your hands on his shoulders to help him stand, but he seized your wrist, his hold strong but not as painful as he wanted it to be.

“How dare you…talk to me that way! I am not a child.” he snarled angrily, deeply anchored into paranoia.

You snatched your wrist away easily, another proof of his severe state “As your wife I have to look after you, husband. The state you are in is…you won’t be able to stand for long, especially in front of your enemies.” Your words seemed to move something inside him, making him wince, looking away, his breathing still quick. Your hand came to gently cup his cheek to make him look at you in the eyes. He had that childish look, full of anger and exhaustion. “Come to bed with me, my love. This is all I ask for. I give you my word it will help you with the rest.” You added on a softer tone, a tender smile on your lips; from the start you had grown fond of this ball of emotion Commodus was.

His eyes fluttered, still begging to close, he couldn’t even think anymore, the simple mention of the word ‘bed’ fell like a spell on mind, calling him again and again until he couldn’t resist anymore and stood up. His balance was quite off, but thankfully he could lean on you. The both of you made your way to the Imperial bedroom, not a single word uttered. Commodus needed silence, he was tired of talking and thinking anyway. The more minutes passed and the more he was enjoying surrendering to you, obeying without questioning, following your lead like a soulless puppet.

Once the door closed, you stood before him and slowly started to undress him, he wasn’t moving an inch, his whole focus was on staying up and not collapse. Once naked, his shoulders remained rounded, it wasn’t just the weight of his Emperor outfit, it was the whole weight of the Empire over him. How much it pained you…Commodus had only wanted to be Emperor to prove himself but never because he enjoyed it. You made him sit on the bed and knelt in front of him to undo his sandals; silence remained, not uncomfortable nor angry, it was full of words. Soon, you felt a drop brush against your face, followed by another one landing on your forearm, tears…but those weren’t yours. You lifted you head and looked at your husband in the eyes; he was the one crying, deep pain circulating in his icy orbs.

“Please don’t…” his whimper was barely hearable and made you wonder what he was begging you not to do. You watched him as leaned forward, taking your hand, the one he had grabbed earlier, his hands gently massaged your skin before placing an apologetic kiss on your inner wrist, followed by more, each featherlike, as if he was afraid to touch you, scared of his own inner demons, to hurt you.  You met his eyes, he was afraid, no, terrified.

You shook your head, a smile playing on your lips, reassuring “Fidelis ero tibi in vita et in morte. Numquam tradet amor meus ...” you murmured, those words of your union ceremony, he knew them by heart and cherished them more dearly than anything else. “Now let me kiss those tears away my love.” You added softly, standing up and leaning forward, your lips gently landing on the trails left on his cheeks by the tears. What more beautiful than the tears of regret absorbed by the kisses of forgiveness?

Commodus closed his eyes, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you in bed, rolling over so you would land softly onto the feather mattress. His embrace tightened without being a bother to you, his face nuzzling against your breast. It made you smile; Commodus had always been the little spoon. You pulled the blankets over your bodies, entwining your legs together and then hugging him back, your hand soothingly caressing his dark hair.

“Isn’t this more comfortable?” you asked, referring to his sleepless nights sitting at his desk. He nodded, taking a deep breath and then exhaling, some tension escaping through his lungs, giving space to a growing sense of peace, at least for tonight.

“I wish I could stay in your arms and between your thighs forever.” He replied, his words slightly muffled against your chest. But it didn’t prevent you from blushing, now with those sensual words you could get insomnia. Your fingers buried in his curls, and you kissed his forehead, inhaling the scent of rosemary in his hair.

“It will be my greatest honor and pleasure.” You murmured, from the first time you met him, it had been like the thunder of Jupiter had hit you, condemned to love him forever and against all. Commodus was like the ocean, unstable, sometimes as calm as the dead sea and others a strong wave hit without warning. A true mystery that you knew you could never completely unveil. “How about we go horse riding tomorrow?” you asked, knowing how much he enjoyed it. But you were met with silence and then a deep breathing. You looked down and smiled, he had fallen asleep, finally…how hard it had been and yet so easy. The world could burn, as long as he could bury in your embrace, sheltering him from the rage of the night.

As always do not hesitate to like, comment and share! that's my only salary^^

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#joaquin phoenix #commodus #commodus imagine #commodus x reader #emperor commodus

[halsteadlover]

Always a Family

*Gif not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader.

• Requested: yes by anon.

• Warnings: talking about infertility and bad writing.

• Word count: 3498.

• A/N: bye I’m so bad at giving titles 💀. I know that’s not good, I’m sorry for how this turned out. Let me know what do you think about this one and if I wasn’t accurate dealing with this topic, I tried my best and I apologize for any mistake. Reblog, like and comment please, I’d love to know your opinions ❤️ my inbox is always open if you want to just talk. Love you, and thank you for your support.

Ever since you were a teenager, you had the desire to become a mother, to find a prince charming with whom to start a family and live happily ever after in a house of your own.

You found your prince charming, the best you could ever ask for, you found the house in which to live happily ever after, but no family, however.

Due to some health problems, when you were just a little girl you were told you’d never be able to conceive and for you the possibility of becoming a mother and having a family would unfortunately have been only and forever a dream.

That part of your life was a part you never told anyone, not even your husband even if he was your rock, your lifeline, your everything, but still the crippling fear he might leave you if he had found out was superior to anything else and prevented you from telling him the whole truth.

When you and Jay met you were going through a period where you didn't have any expectations but he managed to change your mind. You never imagined you’d fall so much in love with that man that you’d end up marrying him, you never thought you wanted to share your life with someone as much as you wished with him. Telling him about your infertility had never been a problem, since initially, as already mentioned, you had no expectations. But as time went by, keeping this part of you inside became more and more difficult and the guilt for hiding such a big thing began to slowly eat you from inside.

For better or for worse, though, things always came to light.

One evening, after dinner, you and Jay were on the sofa cuddling, a bowl of popcorn on your lap while watching a movie. Your head rested on his chest as his arm wrapped around your shoulder, squeezing you warmly against him.

You actually didn't even like the movie, being an action movie, but Jay seemed to thrill and he was so cute and handsome as he was watching tv with so much concentration you didn't have the heart to change channel. You didn't particularly like those kind of movies, perhaps because you spent so much of your time immersed in murders, criminals, drugs and kidnappings, the last thing you wanted was to see something that reminded you of them.

“Baby?” you heard Jay's voice waking you up from the state of sleep you were falling into.

“Mmh?” you answered, opening your eyes and bringing them back to the TV as if you had followed the film step by step. To your surprise – and delight – it was over and you found yourself mentally breathing a sigh of relief.

“Did you miss the ending?” he asked you amused.

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh yeah? And what do you think about it? Did you like it?”.

“Definitely an unprecedented film, a completely unexpected ending and one twist after another, ten out of ten.”

He burst out laughing, holding you closer and filling your cheeks with kisses. “My sleeping beauty. You could’ve told me you didn't like the movie baby.”

“No baby, I enjoyed the movie, it's just that I'm a little bit tired after today.”

Jay planted a kiss on your temple, chuckling after realizing it was obviously a little lie. “I love you so much baby, but now let's go to bed come on.”

“Y/N can I talk to you about something?” Jay asked suddenly, after you settled under the covers, cuddling.

“Of course, spit it out.”

“First of all I want to tell you I don't want to scare you off or anything, it's just something I've been thinking about for a while now and… well… I wanted to tell you about it.”

“Do I have to worry?” you asked amused.

“No, no, of course not,” he spoke, taking your hand in his, his eyes locked in yours. “So… Obviously I'm not talking immediately, like something that's going to happen tomorrow but… Well… What do you think about starting a family? We haven't talked about it much, but do you want to have a baby one day?”.

Your stomach dropped at hearing those words, your heart nearly skipped a beat. Anxiety immediately kicked in though you tried as hard as possible not to show a reaction, to remain neutral.

You reluctantly knew this day would come sooner or later, but you hoped with all your heart it’d delay as long as possible. For an instant all thoughts rushed out of your mind, not having the slightest idea where to begin to tell him his wish would never be granted, at least not with you.

“S-sure baby, I'd be so happy to have a baby with you,” you replied, trying to put on a fake smile and feeling your heart break when you instead saw the radiant smile that appeared on his face, the way his eyes sparkled.

“Are you serious? Do you really want it?”

You tried with every fiber of your being to keep your composure but you couldn't stop your eyes from filling with tears, which however Jay, seized with happiness, thought were tears of joy.

“Yes Jay, there is nothing else in the world I want than to have a family with you,” you replied, telling the sincerest truth. That was true, having a family with your husband was really what you wanted with all your heart.

In a fit of joy he hugged you, squeezing you so hard he took your breath away. But you felt so dirty, hypocritical, a shitty person to prevent him from fulfilling his desire. The tears threatened more and more to escape from your eyes but you managed to find the strength to hold back, not to burst into tears.

You couldn't sleep that night.

The guilt was eating you up from inside, you couldn't drive away that feeling of betrayal.

You felt guilty for hiding something so important from your husband, the person you had to trust most in the world, you felt guilty because you’d never be able to give him something he wanted so much, you felt bad about yourself for not being able to accept you’d never become a mother, you’d never have a baby bump to caress, you’d never experience childbirth, watching your baby grow up.

This sense of guilt coexisted with the disabling fear of losing everything you had built with so much effort. You were fucking afraid of losing the love of your life, that once he found out he’d run away.

You couldn't lie in that bed much longer, feeling an overwhelming feeling of suffocation taking over you. So you got out of bed, trying to be as quiet as possible to try not to wake Jay, who was sleeping peacefully next to you.

But it wasn't long before he noticed your absence.

Jay stretched out his arm to his left, in an attempt to hug you but he immediately realized your absence and this made him wake up suddenly. He propped himself up on his elbows, rubbing his sleep-filled eyes as he tried to adjust his vision to the dark room.

“Y/N? baby?” he called you and after receiving no answer, he moved the covers from over his body and stood up, heading towards the living room. Fear took over him when, seeing you sitting on the couch, he realized you were crying.

“Baby, oh my god are you okay? What is going on? Are you hurt?” he rushed to you, bending down in front of you. You sat with your elbows resting on your knees, your hands covering your face as you sobbed.

“Y/N please talk to me, tell me what's wrong, is something hurting you?” he persisted, his heart pounding, anxiety gripping his stomach. You shook your head, through tears, unable to speak.

“My love, look at me please. You're scaring the shit out of me, please,” he kept asking as his hands caressed your arms. You stood up, wiping away your tears at the same time, but still keeping your face covered. You didn't want him to see you, not like that.

“Baby...” he murmured, then sitting down next to you, starting to caress your back, “I'm here, I won't leave you. Just take a deep breath, I'm here next to you.”

A few moments passed before you to began to calm down a bit.

“Look at me baby,” Jay said, almost in a whisper and when you didn't, he placed two fingers on your chin and turned your head towards him, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes were still red and swollen from the tears, your cheeks wet from them. “It breaks my heart seeing you like this and not being able to help you... My love please talk to me, whatever it is we can solve it, I'm here with you.”

Oh darling, I wish this could be fixed.

You shook your head, the urge to cry threatening to overwhelm you again.

“Y-you'll leave me if I tell you…” you stammered, struggling to maintain eye contact.

A bewildered expression came over Jay's face and in that moment he wondered if you had hit your head somewhere. “What? I hope you're joking, for what kind of reason would I leave you?” he blurted out, dumbfounded “You are my wife, the love of my life, unless you've slept with someone else, there's no way I'm ever going to leave you, just get it out of your mind.”

“What? Absolutely not, it's not that,” you replied immediately.

“I know baby I know, I was just kidding. But you have to tell me what makes you feel like this, I want to help you but I can't do it if you don't talk t-… Oh no, no, no, don't please cry, my love...” he hugged you, squeezing you like never before, one arm around your shoulders while the other hand stroked your hair, “I'm here, I'm here and I will never leave you, I’d die rather and I'm not kidding, whatever happened will never make me walk away from you.”

You continued to cry in his arms, until he pulled away slightly and gently grabbed your face, wiping away the tears streaming down your cheeks with his thumbs.

“You trust me right?”.

“Blindly, with my own life,” you answered without hesitation.

“Then you must have no doubts when I tell you nothing and no one can ever separate me from you, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, grow old with you, I won’t leave you not even in a parallel universe.”

“I'm so scared Jay,” you whispered.

“For what baby?”.

“That you will no longer trust me, that you’ll hate me and look at me differently.”

At that point panic began to take hold of him again.

“Baby you're really worrying me now, did something bad happen? Please tell me.”

Now or never.

“About h-having… Well, having a family…”

Jay breathed a sigh of relief at you, his mind having already planned the worst-case scenarios he could think of. “You don’t want to have kids? It’s okay baby, why didn't you tell me? It's an important thing, don't-...”

“No, no,” you interrupted him “It's just that… God… I really want to start a family too, my love.”

At that point the panic was replaced by confusion. “Baby I really don't understand.”

“I would love a family but the thing is…” you sighed, trying not to cry again “I can't.”

“What do you mean?”.

“Physically, I… I can't have children, I'm completely infertile.”

“Oh.”

There was a moment of silence that seemed to last an eternity. You couldn't read Jay's expression well, you couldn't tell if he was angry, disappointed, scared or whatever.

“Now you're going to leave me right?” you asked in a whisper, your eyes filled with tears again as you looked at him, scared stiff at the answer you’d receive.

“What? Absolutely not my love,” he replied quickly, looking at you as if you were crazy “I'm actually relieved, I thought something really bad had happened.”

“Relieved?”.

“Oh, no, no, sorry baby I didn't mean that, I just really thought the worst for a second,” he explained, feeling guilty at his choice of words. He continued to caress your face while you looked at him carefully as if waiting for a rant from him.

“Do you hate me?”.

“Baby come here,” he said pulling you into a hug. It broke his heart to see you like that, to know you had been so afraid of losing him you preferred to torment yourself rather than tell him about it, and he wasn't angry, he never could be, not about something so delicate you weren't responsible for. God, how could you even think he could hate you? He could leave you? “I love you so damn much, more than anyone else on this planet, I'm so sorry you had to go through this alone, I could never hate you how can you even think about that?”.

“I was so scared to tell you, I thought…” you cried “I thought you were going to leave me.”

Jay broke away from the hug, pointing his green eyes straight into yours. “Baby it's not your fault, I understand why you were so afraid to tell me and I'm so sorry, because I would’ve reassured you that I love you to death, that I will never let go of the best thing that ever happened to me, you don't have to never be afraid to talk to me and express your fears because I will always be by your side, I will support you no matter what happens, you must never doubt this.”

Those words from him threw you even further into an abyss of guilt and despair.

“My baby, God I hate to see you like this,” he whispered, hugging you again.

“I feel awful.”

“Why? You absolutely don't have to.”

“Because you are so amazing and understanding and… And I don't know what I did to deserve you after I kept such an important thing from you…” You stopped for a second due to a sob “I feel like shit because I'm wrong and I can't give you what you most desire, because of me we won't have a family, a child of our own, and… Shit, you'd better leave me… You deserve to…-”

“Okay Y/N now I have to stop you,” Jay interrupted, not even wanting to hear another word of your nonsensical speech. He pulled away from the hug and put his hands on your shoulders, “I don’t want this bullshit to come out of your mouth again, okay? You're not wrong...”

“Can I ask you something?” you asked him, interrupting him in your turn.

“Sure, anything you want.”

“But please tell me the truth. If I told you sooner, would you have changed your mind about me? Would you have continued our relationship?”. For an instant you were terrified of hearing his answer, your heart pounding.

“No love that wouldn't have changed anything and it wouldn't have affected our relationship because I loved you, I love you and I will always love you dearly with all my heart and even now that you told me it doesn't change how my eyes see you. In sickness and in health remember? Through thick and thin,” he answered without hesitation. He took your hand with his, intertwining your fingers, “Y/N, baby, listen to me alright? You're not wrong, it's not your fault and I'm not mad at you, I won't leave you understand? I understand why you didn't tell me sooner and I don't blame you. You know, sometimes our body betrays us, not everything goes the way we want but we don't have to blame ourselves for this. What matters to me is that we are together, there are so many other ways to have a family, there are so many kids out there who are alone and need lots of love. We’re always gonna be a family.”

You nodded, still crying.

“Love it's not your fault, I know that's easy for me to say and hard for you to accept. You make me so happy, you have no idea how much, you really are the best thing that ever happened to me and that won't change my mind.”

“It's not right for you…” you whispered..

“What's not right?”

“To stay with me, you want a baby and I can't have one, it's not fair for you to have to give it up.”

“But we won't give up, as I have already told you there are many children waiting to have a family, that need love and affection. Honestly, there's no other person in the world I'd want to do this with, just you,” he spoke “We can have kids but there’s no one else like you baby.”

“I know…”

“Darling,” he murmured, giving you a kiss on the forehead before continuing to speak “I'm always with you, you know that right? I will always help you, we will face every obstacle together and together we’ll be able to overcome this guilt you feel. One day you’ll be able to understand it's not your fault, that there is no need to feel this way, you’ll be able to truly understand unfortunately life can be bad even with people like you who don't deserve it at all, that you shouldn't let yourself be discouraged and find your strength even in the bad things that happen to you. You’ll be able to forgive yourself one day for feeling wrong, I know, it will take some time, but I know you will because you’re one of the strongest people I have ever known and I will always be with you, at every step you take.”

And that’s it. This was the reason why you married that man, because he understood you, he read you like no one else did, because before you even spoke he was able to understand what was tormenting you.

“I love you so much Jay,” you cried out and that time it was you hugging him, “Thank you for everything, for being so amazing, God I don't know what I’d do without you.”

“I love you so much too, thank you for trusting me.”

You stayed on that sofa for an indefinite amount of time, hugging each other and talking, until the sun started to rise outside. You felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off your shoulders and you thanked the universe for having a man like Jay next to you, not everyone would’ve reacted the way he did, and you felt like the luckiest person on earth to have chosen a gem as rare as him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked you. You were lying on the sofa, your head resting on his lap as he played with a strand of your hair.

You brought your gaze to him. “About what?”.

“How did you find out?” he asked, “But I don't want you to feel obligated to do this, I know it's delicate for you.”

“No, of course I want to tell you,” you replied “When I was about fifteen I had a uterine fibroid discovered, nothing too serious, it's a benign tumor that could be surgically removed without a hitch but during surgery the surgeons had found the situation was worse than expected and there was a complication, a massive hemorrhage that forced them to remove the uterus.”

“I'm so sorry baby,” he whispered, stroking your hair “Have you ever told anyone about this?”

You shook your head. “If you mean professionally no, my parents continually suggested I had to talk to a psychologist but I always refused, I was just a little girl, you know, I didn't think I needed it and I kept it to myself. I've always pretended nothing happened but, growing up, I realized that maybe I should’ve done it instead. It's traumatic for a 15-year-old to be told she’d never be able to have children and now I'm still bearing the consequences.”

“I'm sorry you had to go through all this alone, especially when you were still too young to even understand what was going on,” he spoke. “But now you are no longer alone, I will always be there at every step you take and above all it is never too late to ask for help if you need it.”

“I know love,” you smiled weakly. “I already feel so much better now that I've told you about it, I'm just sorry I haven't done it sooner, but now I feel like I'm not alone in going through this anymore. Don't get me wrong, I've accepted it by now, but I know that when we’ll expand our family, I have to solve some 'issues’ first.”

Jay smiled at the word when. “When?”

“Of course baby. As someone very important to me told me, there are so many children out there in need of love and a family.”

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[frozenjokes]

CuteGuy Would Prefer Greatly If HotGuy Never Ever Had Any Nice Things, But Especially Not His Good Friend And Roommate Cubfan135 (3/3)

prev

this part ended up much darker than the first two, related to Grian’s mental state after the cut. He thinks and says things he does not mean or want, so please check the ao3 link for the content warnings.

Grian gave himself a few days to recover after his fight with HotGuy, too sore to do much else than sit at his laptop and send out job applications; something he should have been doing anyway, but looking for work with a criminal record was nothing short of demoralizing. So what if he had a history of violence- so did everyone in this damn town, only some people were better at running from the police.

At least Cub was always around to help, sending links for possible options and filling out applications at his side; honestly, Grian wouldn’t be able to accomplish half of what he did without Cub’s help. Even then, the process of writing and waiting was stressful, and Grian was never good under pressure. Anxiety made him restless and restlessness made him lash out, and he didn’t want to lash out, not at anyone who didn’t deserve it.

So he gathered his things as the sun set, comforted, at least for now, by the idea of release. Maybe he’d catch a petty thief in the act, or spot some asshole from an earlier time- oh what he would give to get his talons on Cub’s shitty manager, but that was off limits, especially now. Regardless, it would only create more work for Cub in the long run, and Grian wasn’t trying to cause him any more grief.

Cub was.. pretty down after the night with HotGuy. He hadn’t gone out once besides to work, and while he wasn’t visibly upset, he was distracted, and just a tad clingier. Cub needed a lot of downtime, and usually he spent that time alone, but in the past few days he lingered in the common area, and sometimes even Grian’s room if Grian hadn’t left it in a while. Grian never minded. It was nice to hang out like that, quiet, doing separate things, but doing them together. Though, it was much harder to squash the temptation of ‘Bother Cub Instead Of Working’ when Cub was right there.

Grian wouldn’t have it any other way. He just wished he could help Cub feel better.. Especially when it was at least partially his fault Cub was so down in the first place.

He didn’t know exactly what Cub and HotGuy had been texting about, but it was clear enough that Cub was pretty upset. Grian didn’t fully understand why; was it really such a big deal to fight, even if it was staged? Was it the being misled? Now, Grian didn’t want Cub to have anything to do with HotGuy, but this didn’t feel good either, especially when he had a part to play. If Cub knew it was Grian behind the mask, would he be just as upset that Grian had gone through that much effort just to try and force a rift between them? Well, in fairness, Cub would definitely be more concerned with Grian having a supervillain alter ego, but that wasn’t- it didn’t matter.

Still, he felt guilty.

It was guilt that stopped Grian at the front door when Cub called his name. Guilt, that kept him home to watch a movie when Cub asked instead of going out like he desperately wanted to. And the next night, when Cub asked to play board games, and the next, when Cub told him simply he just didn’t want to be alone.

But the next night, over a week after the incident with HotGuy, Grian was too restless, too anxious, too stressed. He needed to leave, he needed to fly, he needed to hit something so he could just be normal again. So when Cub asked him to stay, Grian said no.

“Please.”

Grian hadn’t expected ‘please.’ He didn’t like ‘please.’ He didn’t like the way Cub said it at all. “I’m just going for a fly. We can play cards when I’m back.”

“Can’t you fly during the day? Doesn’t the sun feel better?” There was something too desperate about Cub’s tone, like his composure was just crumbling away. It was wrong. Grian felt his stomach turn.

“I like the cold. I like the moon. And it’s too busy during the day, I don’t have to pay as much attention in the dark.”

Cub wasn’t satisfied. “Grian, I want you to stay. I’m asking you to stay.”

“I-I know-“ Grian felt his own composure begin the crumble, his knees beginning to feel weak, “I just have to go, Cub. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

“You don’t have to.” Cub met his eyes, and saw directly through him. Grian could have thrown up.

“I need to,” he insisted, almost shrilly, but Cub did not budge, he didn’t understand.

And all at once, everything came crashing down. He was so stupid. He- Grian- This wasn’t about HotGuy at all! Cub didn’t care about HotGuy- they were barely even friends, and honestly, Cub had never been all that romantically inclined- Maybe he’d been angry with the hero, but that wasn’t why Cub had been staying home-

Cub saw the spiral behind Grian’s eyes, and the change was instant.

“Grian, come here, please. This isn’t- we can figure this out. I’m not angry with you, I promise I’m not angry. We’re going to figure this out.” Cub took a step forward, arms raised. Grian’s breathing hitched as he took a step back. He felt his hand tighten around the door knob. He saw Cub’s eyes flick to the spot, then freeze. “Don’t run.”

Grian was out the door faster than Cub could lunge to reach him, and even without wings, Grian was in far better shape, far faster, and they both knew it. Grian beat his wings violently, drowning out the sound of Cub’s voice calling his name. He needed to go. He needed to be away. He needed to run. He didn’t want to hear himself think.

…

High above the dappled city lights, the first bar with music loud enough to hear from the sky called his name. The lights were garish and red, the people loud and grating, and it was everything he needed to stop thinking forever. Maybe he could get a guy to buy him a drink, and really make some bad decisions. Panic heightened his delusion. He wanted to black out. Didn’t want to remember where he was when he woke up, or anything about the night before. He wanted to wake up in the woods miles away from town. He wanted to wake up in a stranger’s bed. He’d never had sex before. He hoped it would hurt.

Something like mania clouded his vision as he stumbled into the bar, or maybe it was the lights. It was crowded, so crowded, and people were bumping his arms and his wings as they danced and again he was sure he would vomit over the sensations. He needed more.

Grian reached half-blind for the first man he saw, grasping for contact he viscerally didn’t want. The hand his talons fell across was big, peppered with scars and adorned with dusty gray rings- the skin didn’t quite feel right, though the person attached to the arm turned when he was touched, distracting Grian with his large green eyes.

“Dance with me?” Grian heard himself say, and the man grinned, wide enough to swallow him whole.

“I’d love to!” He took Grian’s other hand, pulling him closer, and Grian pushed in, whether to avoid contact from others or drown himself in the stimulation of one man instead, he had no idea. The crowd shifted around them as they danced, loud and careless and sharp, everything was so sharp and they were touching his wings, they were touching his wings and he needed them to stop. He held the hands of the man he was with like a vice. His grip must have hurt, his claws surely, but his partner never reacted and never let go. Grian felt his mouth hang open as the crowd enveloped them both, choking on the proximity. Someone stumbled against his back and Grian wanted to die. He couldn’t get enough air. He couldn’t breathe.

Someone was speaking, but Grian couldn’t hear them over the music. Maybe he wasn’t listening at all. He had to keep dancing. The current song switched over to something new, and Grian wretched as the base shook his entire body. He was going to die. He felt himself being pulled and had no choice but to follow. People were talking. Someone was talking to him.

He didn’t remember leaving the crowd, but he must have, because he was sitting on a stool at the bar, and he could breathe again. He was holding something, something cold, and was disappointed to discover it was water. Fuck, he was thirsty. He drank the entire thing.

“Shots. I want shots,” someone said, and that someone turned out to be himself. “Whiskey. Or tequila. Yes, tequila.”

“Uh, no. I don’t think so,” someone annoying said, and the annoying voice belonged to a person with a very broken nose, whoa, wild, and hey this was the bad hands guy!

“I’m having a bad day. You should buy me tequila shots.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve had enough.”

“I haven’t had anything!”

“Then you’re either on hard drugs, or something is very wrong.”

“I’m sober!” Grian snapped, “And nothing’s wrong with me- nothing’s- you’re making this very hard on me, so if you won’t buy me something to drink, I’m going to go back to dancing.”

“Well, you’re shaking like a leaf and burst into tears while we were with the crowd, so I’m kinda thinking you’re not doing so hot. Honestly, I was surprised to even see an avian in a place like this- I was pretty sure you guys liked your personal space. Everyone’s different, I know, but still.”

Ah. That’s why he felt so wet. Hm. Bad Hands Man seemed to think for a moment, before waving the bartender over, which pleased Grian until he asked for another water.

“What’s your name, stranger?”

Grian considered not answering out of spite, but at the same time, he was still thirsty, and being annoying and having bad skin wasn’t a crime. “Grian. I’ve come up with my own name for you, but it’s not nice.”

Bad Hands Man snorted, the smile returning sharp on his face, “You can’t just say that and not tell me. Maybe I’ll like it.”

“Bad Hands. Because I hate touching you.” Bad Hands Man blinked a few times in rapid succession, which Grian found to be very satisfying, throwing him a smirk of his own before going to sip at his water.

“You know, I kind of want to be offended for several reasons, but I also kind of respect you for that. I don’t want to be called Bad Hands though, so give me a second to come up with something else.”

“Well I call you Bad Hands Man, not Bad Hands but- hey, what are you doing?” Grian hopped off his stool, poking his head over Bad Hands Man’s shoulder where he was scrolling on his phone through- baby names? “What- Do you not have a name?”

“Oh, I’ve got one, but you could be fae. I won’t risk it, no, no. Strangers get fake names. Occasionally, if I decide I like you enough, you’ll get my other fake name for good friends only.”

“What? When do I get to know your real name?”

“Hm. Suspicious.”

“I’m not suspicious! We live dead in the middle of the worst city in the world- there’s hardly a tree for miles! There are no fae here!”

“That sounds like something a faerie would say,” Bad Hands Man trilled, then laughed at Grian’s reddening face, “I’m joking, I’m joking. I’m not going to tell you my name though.”

“But I want to know! I- oh, is this a superhero thing? Are you just trying to cover yourself? Or are you one of the villains, and really trying to hide it.”

But Bad Hand Man’s lip curled at the mention of superheroes, and Grian had never respected someone so instantly in his entire life, “No. I wouldn’t be caught dead in all that riff-raff. The only reason I’m here is because, as you said, this city is cold and dead and devoid of all things green. They won’t catch me here.”

Grian stared for a moment, processing. “Whoa. You’re kinda nuts, aren’t you?”

“The same people that call me crazy give their names freely when strangers ask.”

“So.. everyone?”

“My point stands.”

“You know, I’m not sure if it does.”

“Well, do you want to help me pick a name? I’m thinking about something with an ‘M,’ take a look,” Bad Hands Man showed Grian his phone, and Grian very much did want to do that, so he paid close attention while Bad Hands Man scrolled slowly.

“Micah. I’ll call you Micah.”

Micah looked pleased, nodding in his approval. “Is there a reason? I’m just curious, I like to know why people pick the names they do.”

“My-cah!”

“Mycah!”

“My-cah!”

Micah broke the back and forth, laughing, though Grian could have gone for hours, “So what’s the reason then?”

“I like the way it sounds.”

“Oh! Guess I could have figured that out on my own, couldn’t I?” Micah chuckled, and Grian Looked at him for what felt like the first time. He was handsome, really, in most senses of the word. His hair was relatively short and pulled back into what was quite frankly, a silly little ponytail. He had glasses too, but even despite the harsh light in his eyes, Grian was pretty sure they didn’t have lenses. His outfit was fun, his dark top cropped to an almost ridiculous degree, while his pants were red like his glasses, floral patterned, and little too short on him, but cute. Grian cringed inwardly at what he must be looking like right now; a total mess certainly, feathers probably all puffed up and hair wind-blown to hell. Well! If Micah hadn’t abandoned ship already, Grian might still have a chance here.

“I!” Grian began, holding himself a little higher, “Think you’re cute.” He preened, pleased with his grand show of affection, more so when he opened an eye and saw Micah smiling.

“Thanks. This is a new outfit, a little different from what I’m used to, but I kinda like it. Usually I show a bit more chest and less stomach, so this is honestly a bit weird for me. Good though. I’m always looking for a little change.”

“Well I definitely wouldn’t say you’re hiding too much when it comes to the chest.”

“You think it’s too much? Maybe it doesn’t leave much to the imagination, but that doesn’t bother me.”

“No! Not too much at all! I like it! I like you.”

“I’m glad,” Micah looked away, the smile falling just slightly. With some distress, Grian wondered what he was doing wrong. This was how this was supposed to work, wasn’t it? Was he forgetting something? A bead of mangled frustration crept through, a reminder of the pain, the fear, of the desperate need to run. He needed this. He needed this to work.

“I want to go home with you,” Grian was painfully aware of how breathless he sounded, a result of his hiking heart rate.

“Grian..” Micah began, but Grian couldn’t handle the gentle rejection on his tone, he needed to be better, more desirable-

“You could have your way with me. You could do whatever you want.” Pathetically, he felt like crying. He needed this so badly and he was losing, he just couldn’t stop losing.

“Grian, no. Stop this.” Micah was firm, and Grian felt like shattering.

“Please.”

“You’re not well. Where do you live? We could walk, or I could call you a taxi. You need to go home, okay? This place isn’t good for you. Is there anyone I could call? Anyone who could pick you up?”

“No!” The sound ripped out of his throat with a wretched sob, “I have nowhere to go. I have no money- I have nowhere to go.” Just like that, everything was wrong again, everything was awful. Why did this have to be so hard? What would it take for him to just be normal, to stop being so hopelessly angry all of the time?

“Hey, Grian, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay. Let’s go outside, alright? Let’s go outside.

“It’s not okay-“

“Breathe with me. Breathe. Can I take you outside? Can I touch you?”

“Don’t- not my hands.”

“Can I touch your sweater?

“Touch-“ Grian pulled in a strangled breath, but he just couldn’t keep the air in, “Yes- The sweater.”

“The sweater’s okay?”

“Yes.”

Grian was painfully aware of his hands, of his wings, of his skin, as Micah guided him along, cringing at the attention Micah brought when he loudly cleared the way, but also grateful for the lack of accidental brushes against his feathers. He didn’t think he could take it. He didn’t think he could survive.

The nighttime air was a massive relief, and Grian managed to take his first real breath through heaving lungs. There was a bench right outside, and Grian all but collapsed onto it, burying his head in his hands and curling inward. It was too much. It was just too much.

He didn’t look up when Micah spoke.

“My place isn’t far from here. I have a spare bedroom, and the door locks from the inside. You could use it, if you want, for however long you need. My work is unpredictable, and I can’t promise I'll be home much, but maybe that’s better for you. There’s not much to eat there right now but- I can grab groceries tomorrow morning. You don’t need to tell me anything, or pay me- it doesn’t matter. I don’t want you on the streets tonight, okay?

Grian didn’t know what to do with that. He barely processed any of it.

“I promise you’re going to be okay. You’ll be safe.”

He didn’t like that promise. No one could know what was going to happen to him. What might become of him. But damn if Grian didn’t want to believe it. To collapse and curl up and feel a little less like everything was falling apart.

“Okay,” he managed, his voice little more than a whimper, “I’ll go.”

#hermitcraft #hermitfic #hotguy #cuteguy #cubfan135 #cubfan #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #grian #desert duo #tagging hermitshipping to be consistent but #not shipping in this chapter #hermitshipping

[hydaelyns-bitch]

Coming To Ishgard

[MSQ-following WoLship fic because I wanted to write my WoL being stupid. I was going to sit on it for a bit longer, but I have the patience of a wet cat.]

“My lord, I have returned with the Scions.” 

Driselle’s eyes remained fixated on the back of Haurchefant’s head as he spoke. Not out of nerves, surely—after all, she’d been able to sneak a bit of fogweed while Alphinaud wasn’t looking, back when they’d first entered the city. Nerves were no longer part of the equation, though her mind did keep wandering to whether or not anyone would be able to tell that her eyes were bloodshot. 

She was overwhelmed—that was all. It was much easier to stare at all of the individual strands of silvery-blue hair on her good buddy’s head than it was to absorb the details of her surroundings. Fury’s tits, she hated meeting new people. It was easy enough when it was a casual interaction, but after how excited Haurchefant had been to introduce them all to his family, there was no way something couldn’t go terribly wrong. As a rule, Driselle was usually oblivious to how she was perceived, but for Haurchefant’s sake, she wanted to do this right. 

Driselle stood off to the side and found herself quite content with studying the back of her knight friend’s ears now, watching how they moved when he spoke. Did her own ears do the same? She’d never paid enough attention to other elezen to find out. Part of her wanted to flick the back of his ear to see what happened. Luckily, she was too paralyzed by the gravity of the situation to do so. 

“I hope your journey was not too taxing. I, Count Edmont de Fortemps, do bid you welcome.” 

There he was in front of them, the Count Edmont that Haurchefant had spoken so highly of. When she eventually broke her gaze from Haurchefant’s hair, Driselle found that she quite liked the his little mustache. He was every bit the picture of an Ishgardian noble with his cane and fancy coat, though perhaps without the pompous air that Driselle had come to expect from these sorts. His voice was comforting in the way that her own father’s was—though Count Edmont appeared to be a bit more mentally present than her own absentminded sire. 

After hearing so many things about House Fortemps from both Haurchefant and her cousin Adeline (of the far less prominent House Charbonnier), it was difficult to believe that she was here before them, standing in their parlor as an actual guest. Slaying primals and meeting with various heads of state were nothing to the girl who, only a few years ago, had been so terribly concerned with blending in with Ishgardian high society. If only Adeline could see her now. 

…She probably would, as a matter of fact. That was a problem for later, and one that Driselle would rather not think too much about. 

Count Edmont continued, “As wards of House Fortemps, you shall be afforded every courtesy. My home is your home.” 

The count was certainly a generous man—far more than her own aunt, whose own manor was not far from that of House Fortemps. Unlike the home of House Charbonnier, however, there was a sort of sophisticated ease in the air of this place. There wasn’t a speck of dust, nor was it cluttered with old artifacts of generations gone by. No oppressive aura of desperation lingered here, or, at the very least, not one that she could detect. 

Where the streets of Ishgard had been dark and gloomy, the warm lighting within the manor almost burned her eyes. They would have to adjust slowly. That Duskwight heritage never ceased to resurface with new inconveniences. What she could see, however, was quite grand. Even her aunt’s house hadn’t been this big, let alone so well-decorated. Everything was so deliberately placed—a far cry from Aunt Eugenie’s tacky attempt at opulence. 

Were Alphinaud and Tataru nervous at all? Not that she herself was, at any rate. Absolutely not. No, she was simply overwhelmed. 

’And higher than dhalmel tits. Fury’s frigid snatch.’ 

The young Leveilleur was probably fine, high society type that he was—and so used to conversing with political leaders and war heroes alike, even at the young age of sixteen. His posture was formal, but so confident. 

’How is that even fair? He hasn’t even hit his growth spurt yet.’ 

Tataru simply looked on in awe. She was certainly the adaptable sort. 

“My companions and I are deeply honored, Count Fortemps.” The little white-haired shite was the first to respond. Go figure. 

‘Ah. Alphinaud's speaking for us again. Amazing. Brilliant. Have at it, I guess.’ 

Driselle knew she couldn't complain, of course. Far better to have the boy speak for them than herself—though she would have just as gladly have taken Tataru. Really, maybe Driselle herself was the only Scion worse at conversation than Urianger. 

’At least Urianger can form a bloody coherent sentence, funny words and all.

...Or, well, could. He could form a bloody coherent sentence. Had been able to. Funny words and all.’ 

In a rare moment of giving a shite, she hoped that Urianger was alright, wherever he’d gone. Driselle found her mind wandering to some unfortunate possibilities, and decidedly shifted her focus back to the topic at hand. The fate of the other Scions could wait. 

She had to give Alphinaud credit, however. He was a lot less of an insufferable goobue-arse after being horribly betrayed by his own army. That sort of thing did have the tendency to humble a person, and it had worked wonders on the little diplomat. 

Count Edmont smiled warmly. “The honor is mine, Master Alphinaud. Consider it an expression of our gratitude for your service to Ishgard.” 

Driselle found herself forgetting for a moment what the old man was even referring to, until she happened to glance at Haurchefant and recall the entire series of events that had led up to the confrontation at the Steps of Faith and the defense against the Dravanian horde. Ah, right. Load of horseshite that was. 

She should have known that entering Coerthas again would lead to something like this. Nothing ever could be easy anymore. ‘Oh, Warrior of Light, you’re here! I do hope you enjoy entrenching yourself in everyone else’s politics. Now be a dear and go slaughter some dragons while you’re at it.’ Bollocks, that. You do one job for the Adventurer’s Guild and suddenly you’re everyone’s bitch. 

Then there was that whole thing with Midgardsormr, which was yet another fever dream that’d been thrust upon her. She hadn’t fully absorbed that one, and was loath to do so. That would mean acknowledging the tiny whelp that was supposed to be the voice of the enormous corpse in the middle of Lake Silvertear. How many others had to put up with this mindboggling rubbish? Hydaelyn must be trying to do her in. 

It was quite amazing how, when so many bizarre and terrifying events happened on the regular, one could simply put them out of their mind as easily as the social faux pas committed at some gathering a week before. Easier, even. The fogweed likely didn't hurt. 

Maybe she'd just begun to dissociate during all of it. That was plausible enough. 

“Forgive me, my lord, but…are you not concerned? To accept foreign guests at such a juncture—especially ones with our…reputation…” As usual, Alphinaud certainly had a point. After all, the Pillars were always rife with gossip, and they were not only a group of those dreaded outsiders, but fugitives besides. It couldn’t possibly be a good look for House Fortemps to be harboring their type. 

‘It’s a load of shite, s’what it is. I didn’t do a damned thing,’ Driselle thought with some bitterness. This was what she got for not knowing how to say ‘no’. And it was unlikely that this trend was going to stop anytime soon. She really needed to grow a backbone one of these days. 

Count Edmont shook his head. “Do not worry yourself on my account. ‘Tis true that Ishgard’s first thought has ever been the war effort, hence the closing of our borders…” 

To Count Edmont’s immediate left were his two other sons (recognized as such solely due to Haurchefant mentioning them in passing), nearly identically dressed and standing at attention. Something about them looked a bit familiar, but it was hard to be sure. Perhaps she’d seen them in passing the last time she’d been in Ishgard. After all, she’d spent quite a lot of time in this part of the city. It wasn’t impossible. 

“…Yet it is in troubled times most of all that men should seek allies, don’t you think?” The count cast a glance to the two, who dutifully nodded in agreement. This seemed practiced, as if they’d been trained to do so from boyhood. It wouldn’t have been surprising. Nobility had such odd little nuances to their behavior. 

Count Edmont continued, “Granted, my decision will have raised eyebrows in the Vault and in the halls of the other High Houses. But so long as you continue with your altruistic endeavors, I doubt my honored peers will feel moved to voice their concerns.” 

As he spoke, Driselle found herself once again looking back to the two young men beside him. She was trying desperately now to remember where she’d seen them before. Had it been at mass, back when Adeline and Aunt Eugenie had still insisted that she attend the services at Saint Reymanaud’s? 

The eldest, she presumed, stood closest to his father. He was a very dour-looking man, his brow almost permanently furrowed. ‘Gods, what a forehead. Could play a game of tic-tac-toe on tht thing. Does it work like a mirror if he gets sweaty?’ His ears were almost as long as her own (which she already considered to be absurd), and she couldn’t help but find him to be a bit silly-looking despite his apparent serious demeanor. It was a genuine struggle not to imagine various things written across that forehead of his, given how wide and open the space was. Perhaps he could rent it out for advertisements or religious propaganda. She had a feeling that he wouldn’t take kindly to the suggestion and decided to keep it to herself.

Now, the younger one, she immediately found herself with a bias towards—perhaps because he seemed closer in age to herself. Though he clearly was attempting to come off just as composed as his brother, he couldn’t seem to stop fidgeting, occasionally bouncing on his toes or trying to toss his long, black hair out of his eyes. He was shorter than his brothers, and considerably rounder, at that. He had, in Driselle’s opinion, the prettiest face she’d ever seen on a man, with pudgy cheeks that she so desperately wanted to squish. 

Driselle had to remind herself that doing so was probably frowned upon. Shame, really—she’d never wanted to touch someone’s face so badly in her life, and this was coming from a woman who didn’t care much for other people on any conceivable level. The fogweed must have truly been doing a number on her. 

Were she not so averse to eye contact, she might have noticed the younger one’s bug-eyed stare in her direction.

Driselle was snapped out of her near trance by Alphinaud’s response to Count Edmont, as she’d long stopped listening in favor of staring at his sons in a way that she vaguely hoped wasn’t too disconcerting. 

“Then there is naught to fear,” Alphinaud said, his mood brightened considerably. “Though our numbers are much reduced, we are no less determined to carry on our work.” 

’What do you mean ‘we’? I bet you reminded all of the professors that they’d forgotten to check for last night’s homework, too, you little shite.’ There was no malice in these thoughts, but a teasing that’d slowly begun to emerge after the initial distaste for the boy had given way in the past few months. Even if it was partially his fault that they were here to begin with. 

Count Edmont nodded with a measure of satisfaction. “—Ah, but before I forget: allow me to introduce my other two sons. Artoirel, my eldest—” 

The one with the enormous forehead bowed his head in acknowledgement. 

“—And Emmanellain, my youngest.” 

'Wait a godsdamned minute—'

She’d heard that name before, without a doubt. This was the one that Adeline had so often derisively referred to as “that peacockish twit”. So they’d met before after all, then. More than that, even. 

The young Lord Emmanellain de Fortemps was the one who had taken pity upon her and taught her to dance. She’d been so content to play the wallflower, expecting no one to speak to her at all. And yet, he’d approached. When she’d claimed to have no skill in dancing whatsoever, he’d offered to show her how, and she’d accepted on a whim (against her better judgement). Adeline had been almost comically furious about the whole thing, calling it a ‘spectacle’ and chewing them both out afterwards. 

Gods, he’d been so patient with her, too. He was a silly, foppish boy, but he'd also been so kind to her. How could she have forgotten his face so easily? 

’Probably because I was too afraid to look him in the eye.' She did recall staring at the top of his head an awful lot whenever they’d met, and especially during that night. Most of the time, the sight was accompanied by Adeline chastising the boy for following them around. ‘This is almost worse than he is with Laniaitte,’ she’d once said, referring to a friend of hers that Driselle had met on occasion. She had to wonder if that had ever worked out for him. Maybe the two had gotten engaged by now. That would’ve been a funny pair. 

Alas, when she looked up at him, he was staring off to the side, far more interested in the damask of the wallpaper. Perhaps he didn’t remember her. It would have made sense. He was a young noble, after all. He had plenty of girls to dance with. Why would he recall anyone so plain and dull as herself? 

’Adeline had a point. I was likely a passing novelty and not much else.’ Surely, she should have expected as much. She couldn’t allow herself to be disheartened. That would be silly. Who had time for such things, anyroad? Not her, in the least. Though it would have been nice to have a friend in Ishgard for once. 

The best thing to do would be to forget about it, lest their stay at Fortemps Manor be a painfully awkward one. 

Driselle forced herself to look back to Count Edmont, who was still conversing with Alphinaud. 

“Full glad am I to hear it. Ah, but before you return to your labors, why not take a tour of the city? You would do well, I think, to acquaint yourselves with your new surroundings. After all, you may be here for some time.” The old man looked the Scions over and gave them another one of his gentle smiles. 

It certainly wasn’t a bad idea. And Driselle quite suddenly felt as if she needed some air. However, when Alphinaud looked to both Tataru and herself, she felt as if she was about to be voluntold once again, and she wasn’t sure she much cared for that. 

“Though our friends in House Fortemps have been generous enough to extend us their protection, we must take care not to impose too much on their hospitality,” Alphinaud explained, as if it actually needed explaining at all. “It is only proper that we learn about our new home, so that we might become more self-sufficient.” 

Driselle decided not to mention that this wasn’t her first time in Ishgard. It would be funnier this way. She had to wonder how long she could keep the ruse up. She’d already mentioned it to Haurchefant, but if she’d said as much to Alphinaud, it wasn’t unlikely that he hadn’t been listening. The boy just liked to hear himself talk. 

Tataru responded, “It'll take a while to learn the lay of the land, but learn it we must. Then there's the markets and taverns—we'll need to know where to shop and where to hear small talk.” Smart girl, that Tataru was. There was something to be said for being small enough to stay underfoot and eavesdrop, too. If Driselle tried to do that sort of thing, she’d have to put a shade over her head and pretend to be a lamp, lest she stand out too much. 

“'Twould seem a tour of the city is indeed in order.” Alphinaud nodded and looked back to Count Edmont. “I thank you for your counsel, my lord. My companions and I shall of course do as you suggest.” 

---

As the Scions exited into the foyer, Driselle could hear bits and pieces of the conversation that was to follow in their absence. It began as hushed whispers, but quickly escalated into bickering between the three brothers, from what she could hear with her absurdly long ears. 

“—Ow! What the devil was that for?!” Emmanellain’s voice came out as a strangled squeak. 

“Stop gawking!” It sounded as if Artoirel had elbowed him or something along those lines. “Have you no self-control?” 

Next came Haurchefant’s voice, cheery and ever-so-teasing. “Why, Emmanellain, I’ve never seen you so shy--and quiet--in the presence of a fair lady before! Perhaps I should have brought her home sooner!” There was the sound of a slight struggle and the jingling of chainmail as Haurchefant presumably moved closer to pester his baby brother. 

“That's rubbish, and you know it! I was only wondering why she was so...uncommonly tall!” Emmanellain protested, his voice suddenly muffled. He was trying to fight Haurchefant off by the sound of it. 

Well, that was less than flattering. It was, however, not an uncommon response. She was a very long woman, after all. The implications of anything that came before Emmanellain’s comment on her height were completely lost on her, baked as she was. 

  ---

Alphinaud looked up at Driselle with a squint. He’d picked up on her behavior far more easily that she’d thought he would, even though he’d been so focused on his conversation with the count. He really was too observant for his own good. “What was that all about? You’ve been making strange faces since we’ve arrived.” 

Driselle’s response came drily. “Don’t worry about it.” 

Tataru was already talking the poor manservant’s ear off as he led them to the front door. If nothing else, this tour would give them all some time to absorb their new circumstances, and she did quite like hearing Tataru’s commentary on things, so it wouldn’t be an entire waste of time for her, either. 

She only hoped that she wouldn’t run into anyone that she knew. Especially her cousin. She hadn’t exactly written ahead of time to warn her family that she was returning to the city, and she hadn’t been in contact since she’d left. 

“…As you say, then.” Alphinaud frowned, an eyebrow raised. He really did look like a petulant child. Before he could ask another question, Driselle reached down to ruffle his hair with her gauntleted fingers. This was met with a small cry of surprise from the boy, which Driselle completely ignored. It was funnier to not give a response, after all. Frustrating Alphinaud was becoming a bit of a game in itself. 

And in but a moment, they were back out on the street, into the cold Ishgardian air. It would be a welcome respite for the time being, if her ears didn’t freeze and turn to dust first. 

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