#gods this got SO MUCH LONGER THAN I ANTICIPATED

[inaconstantstateofchange]

binggeyuan modern!AU based on this prompt where shen yuan and luo binghe live in the same apartment building, but have never met each other. SY is more-or-less his regular shut-in self, and keeps very odd hours, which means that he happens to be wide awake the first time LBH gets back to the apartment building at 3 a.m. after some manner of illicit activity and realizes he doesn't have his fucking entrance key. LBH hits one apartment number after another into the intercom, fully prepared to dazzle his way into getting one of them to open the door for him, but the intercom is old, and people come and go from this building often enough that most people don't bother getting it set up, and he's having no luck.

finally, just as he's about to give up and bully his way onto mobei-jun or sha hualing's couch for the night, someone picks up. he doesn't even remember which specific apartment number it was, he was just entering them mechanically. immediately, LBH pulls on his smoothest affect (sure the intercom has no video, only shitty, garbled audio, but that's no reason to let the universe catch you slipping) and prepares to give the sob story performance of his life. before he can even get a single word out, however, there's a crackly, almost indiscernible "Open!" and he hears the click of the entrance door unlocking before the intercom call is ended. he stares at the intercom for a minute, somewhat wrong-footed, but then shakes himself out of it in time to catch the door before it locks again.

SY, for his part, was broken out of a binge-reading spiral by the intercom call, and fully did not realize how late it had gotten. he assumed he had ordered something that was arriving earlier than expected, and kept an ear out for a knock on his front door from the delivery person for a few minutes, but then got sucked back into the target of his current literary criticism.

the next time LBH gets locked out, he starts in the general number range he remembers striking on the last time, and pays closer attention to the numbers this time. he's curious if his little philanthropist will be so accommodating again. SY orders a lot of packages, okay! the one time he didn't pick up the intercom he had to wait an extra three days for his ultra-rare, limited edition merch, which he will not be going through again. this time, though, when the intercom picks up, LBH is prepared. he starts talking immediately, playing up his stress at being locked out, how sorry he is to be a bother, and how much he really, really appreciates it. SY fully blue screens at this unanticipated display of emotions, blurts something out about how it's not problem and of course he's happy to help out a neighbor in need, then hangs up (after unlocking the entrance, of course). it is perhaps fortunate that the intercom has no video, and thus he can not see the look on LBH's face.

LBH gets more and more consistent pushy with his calls, curious how far this little philanthropist will go for him. he knows his apartment number, of course, he could just knock and introduce himself, but he'd rather let him come to him. LBH starts interjecting little questions here and there, trying to glean any information about his mysterious benefactor. SY, meanwhile, is lighting a daily candle for this poor little bun somewhere in his building, who has truly the worst luck in the entire world! who ever heard of a gang of pickpockets stealing someone's keys not once, but twice in the same week!

LBH gets comfortable with the state of things — as ever, too comfortable. nothing good can last forever. one night, after a long and utterly shitty day, for the first time in ages, he loses his key for real. he's tried to avoid reaching out to SY at any time when he's not 100% in control of himself, but there's nothing for it. he punches in the numbers for the unit he knows by heart at this point, and when it picks up, he sighs tiredly, and waits for SY to speak first. after a moment of silence, the call drops, and the door remains locked. LBH is almost shaken entirely out of his malaise. not even a word? he puts SY's apartment number in again, but this time it doesn't even pick up. he stares at the intercom in unpleasant shock for a few minutes, then punches the wall next to it and leaves. he spends the night on mobei-jun's uncomfortably small couch, staring unseeing at the ceiling above him. at least the other man doesn't ask him any questions.

their easy rapport broken, SY starts to worry when he hasn't heard from his unfortunate little neighbor — maybe he's moved out? hopefully to a place with a more accommodating security system... after a full week, his worry ramps up even higher. he wants to believe his neighbor just found a system to keep track of his keys that works for him, but statistically, it seems unlikely. feeling like the most awkward, overstepping idiot on the planet, he scribbles off a few short notes, and sticks one by the the intercom, one by the mailboxes, and one in the laundry room. his neighbor will have to go at least one of those places, certainly?

to my keyless neighbor - hope you're well! i was worried- if you ever need me, you know where to reach me. you weren't a bother- - XX4

the next time LBH stops by the apartment (he's been avoiding it by couch-hopping as much as possible, to the great aggravation of his friends) he carefully avoids looking at the intercom. as such, it's actually sha hualing who spots the note first. (she bullied her way into an invite to make LBH actually go home.) she crows out a harsh laugh, snatching the note off the wall and holding it up dramatically, cackling about "rom-com shit". LBH isn't really paying attention, until he catches a glimpse of the apartment number at the bottom. eyes flashing, he snatches the note out of her hand, and reads it over once, and then again. after a moment, he turns to sha hualing, and tells her to go home, that he's got plans, actually. she gapes at him for a moment, then scoffs and turns on her heel, flipping him off as she goes. whatever! she didn't want to babysit his mopey ass any longer anyway!

LBH spends a few frozen moments running over his options, torn between calling right now just to see if his philanthropist will pick up this time, and giving himself a chance to freshen up, and maybe make a good enough showing for himself that whatever it was that caused him to be ignored before will never happen again. ultimately, he decides on the latter, but rushes through all his preparations as much as he can while maintaining sufficient attention to detail. he wishes he had the materials to make something truly spectacular, but his apartment is showing his absence over the past week. he settles on a meal that just barely feels sufficient, and finds himself more anxious than he can remember being in years at this point, staring at his philanthropist's apartment door, two levels below his.

he raises his fist to knock, tentatively at first, too quiet to hear, and then once more, louder. a muffled voice comes through the door, and a few moments later, it cracks open to reveal a man just a bit shorter than him, with a rumpled shirt that looks like it has just been haphazardly thrown on and hair that might not have been brushed in days. he's... really cute.

LBH and SY just kind of stare at each other, frozen, for a bit, until LBH proffers the food he's brought, and SY's archaic etiquette subroutines kick in, and he invites LBH in before he can even think about. his immediate wince makes it clear he had not meant to do that, but LBH is not above making a situation work to his advantage, and graciously accepts, stepping into the somewhat cluttered apartment before SY can recover from his slip-up. they still have not exchanged names.

ultimately, they get themselves figured out. LBH introduces himself, and SY follows suit. there's a beat of silence as they both realize that this does not actually clear up anything about how they know each other. LBH finds the words to explain his own part in this are slow to come, so he finally just hands the note, neatly folded, to SY. SY's face colors, but he overcomes it to fussily poke at LBH about how worried he was, when the other just disappeared! LBH stops for a second, hearing that, then slowly responds that it was SY who cut him off first. SY gapes at him, then demands to know when he did a thing like that! he set his intercom call sound to caramelldansen and max volume so he'd be sure not to miss it!

LBH gives him the date, and SY flushes again, then looks away, muttering something unflattering about a "qingge". LBH feels a wash of jealousy, that he's misread the situation and SY is already spoken for, but SY goes on to explain that he had been stuck overnight at the hospital - for nothing major! pretty routine actually! - and the friend that was staying with him must have picked up, then hung up when he couldn't figure out who was calling.

LBH sits back, somewhat at a loss. so it... wasn't because SY was tired of him? SY sputters, waving his hands about. absolutely not! he might be slightly forgetful, but binghe is clearly a wonderful young man and it's not like SY has much else going on in his life!

LBH determines to himself then and there that the only way to ensure such a thing does not happen again is to make sure that he is the one staying with SY the next time he's in the hospital.

#gods this got SO MUCH LONGER THAN I ANTICIPATED #anyway i like this prompt a lot it has a lot of flexibility #and yes lbh starts very bingge but then gets passively bingmei-ified #svsss #bingyuan #binggeyuan #shen yuan #luo binghe #luo bingge #svsss au #svsss fic #my writing #writing prompt

[vonlipvig]

that's a wrap, baby!

#OH THANK GOD that took me way longer than i was anticipating lmao #i had missed some of the b&w clips from ambrosio (which ofc since i wasn't paying that much attention back then) #but it was hard cause the special clips are all scattered and not in the same clip for all so i had to search the whole list of possible on #got it tho! whoohoo! #immortality

[safetypinxtales]

Together with you | Azriel

(Lonely with you pt. 2)

summary: heart break sucks. Missing your friend sucks even more. It is mind-blowing what a little open communication can do.

words: 4.1k

warnings: angst with happy ending, terrible communication at parts (sorry), mention of alcohol consumption, fluff, just general misery, neutrally described reader/no reader description, no use of y/n, dumb idiots in love

notes: so this got a lot more angsty than first anticipated, but here it is! Not sure how I feel about it, I like some parts, not so sure about others - feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!

part 1

Cold. Your bed was freezing cold. And empty. 

Like lying on a frozen slab of stone, utterly alone and undeniably pathetic. Just as alone and pathetic as yesterday, when you woke up on the couch in the living room. No Azriel in sight. Like he wasn’t the one to practically beg you not to leave him alone, and then he went and did that exact thing to you. 

It was humiliating. You were humiliated.

And that was why you had avoided him like he was contagious for all of yesterday, burying yourself in paperwork or hiding away in the library. But your plan was far from foolproof, you’d barely made it through yesterday without seeing him, so today had to be different. If being close to you was so shameful he had to sneak away before you had a chance to wake, you would simply remove yourself from the situation and spare yourself some Gods damned dignity. 

You had already written to Mor, your excuse of needing to get away from the happily mated couple for a few nights only a half lie. You were in desperate need of a good night’s rest, however that was not the most pressing issue at hand. But there was no need for her to know that. Yet. She would find out eventually, she always did, and you would be stupid to expect otherwise. 

Two hours past sunrise should mean that the Valkyrie training would be full and well underway, and thus it would be safe for you to make your escape. You got the things you’d need and made your way up the stairs to one of the smaller balconies overlooking the training ring. You knew you really shouldn’t, because what good would it do? But you had to. Just a quick glance. Quietly you moved towards the railing, scanning the people below. 

There he was, a thing of graceful, terrifying beauty. He seemed to be demonstrating a movement with a training sword for some of the priestesses. He moved with such fluidity, wielding the sword in his hand as if it was an extension of himself. He was like death on swift feet. A fallen angel, a dark prince. 

He was beautiful.

You must have accidentally made a sound, because his head shot up and his eyes zeroed in on you. Oh Gods. The intensity in his gaze, and the increasing pressure in your chest was too much. He didn’t want you. 

You staggered back, one little step and you had winnowed yourself down to the city streets. This was good, you needed to get away. He left you alone. He drew back first. You knew all of this, so why did it hurt such an unreasonable amount?

You rubbed your chest in hopes of getting rid of the tightness that seemed to have moved in there since yesterday morning, and then you set course towards the one stop you had to make before getting to Mor’s. 

-

It had been three days since you arrived at Mor’s apartment with a paper bag filled with the sweetest, sugar-powdered pastries your favourite bakery had to offer. It had taken you both approximately 20 minutes to devour them all, after which you no longer had anything to distract your friend from digging up the truth behind your visit. 

You were in love with someone who did not harbour the same feelings towards you. And you desperately needed to get away from him, to save what remained of your heart. 

You had cried, drank some wine, and then cried a little more. You went back to the bakery for more pastries the next day, and the cycle repeated. 

The crisp, early-spring wind was a menace today as you were on your, now daily, pastry run. You were trying to stop your hair from whipping around like a being possessed, cursing up a storm, when you heard him call your name. 

You froze to the spot, like his voice was some primal command. That insufferable tightness in your chest was as present as ever as you forced yourself to put on your brave face and turned towards him. 

There he was, jogging towards you, his brow furrowed. 

“Hey,” Azriel breathed as he came to a stop in front of you. His shadows swirled out in your direction, but retracted before they had a chance to reach you. 

“Hi,” you mumbled back, suddenly finding the cobbled street very interesting. 

He cleared his throat and took a step closer. You took one backwards. The cobblestone looks different here than in the alley by the bakery. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while… you haven’t been home – at the House, I mean,”  he coughed lightly. I wonder if it was made with, like, a different technique? Or maybe the stones are just differently shaped or something?

“Yeah, no, I’ve been staying with Mor for a bit.” It’s definitely mossier on the smaller streets, maybe that’s why? It just shifts the perspecti–

“Angel, please look at me.” 

You didn’t want to, Gods you didn’t want to. But alas, you seemed to have no power when it came to Azriel. 

Any other day, the worry swimming in those hazel eyes would have melted your heart. Today, it just hurt. “Did I do something? Is that why you… haven’t been around?” 

You scoff, “No, you didn’t do anything, Azriel. It’s fine.”

“It’s obviously not fine! I haven’t seen you in days, and now you can barely look at me?” He exclaimed, exasperation clear in his voice. “Look, I’m sorry if I overstepped, or made you uncomfortable – but I miss my friend,” his hands twitched where they rested at his sides, shadows swirling around him with unease.

“Oh, please,” his brows furrowed further at the dry laugh that escaped you, “Are you being serious, Az? I fell asleep in your arms, after you pleaded with me to stay with you – and then I woke up alone.” His face fell. “How do you think that feels? I mean, you must know how I feel about you!” You cursed yourself for the way your voice quivered, and that damned burning feeling behind your eyes that you were so sick of.

“What– no, I didn’t– what do you–,” he stuttered. He actually stuttered. The spymaster of the Night court couldn’t even come up with an excuse for being an ass.

“Save it. I get it – you were lonely, we’ve all been there,” you muttered, wrapping your arms around yourself, “I have to go.”

You turned back in the direction of Mor’s apartment, pastries be damned. You just had to get away.

Azriel had other plans though. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, the cool wisps of shadows snaking up your forearm. You couldn’t help the way you recoiled from his touch, how it seemed to ignite every nerve in your arm. 

“Wait–,”

“NO!” A sob wracked your body. “No, just leave me alone, Az. Can’t you tell that you’re hurting me?” His face twisted in time with your words, and tears pricked your eyes. “Being around you hurts!” 

His shadows were whipping violently around him, but he was as still as death itself.  Something like dread and confusion were clouding his eyes.

He called after you as you walked away. But he didn’t stop you, nor did he try to follow you. And you didn’t dare look over your shoulder, too scared you might run back and give him the rest of your heart, shattered as it may be. No, instead you carried the shards in your hands, tears rolling down your cheeks, one after the other. 

You weren’t sure how you were ever going to be okay. 

-

The bedroom door creaked open, and you pulled the duvet further over your head.

“Hey sleepyhead,” Mor said in a sing-song voice. You weren’t sleeping.

“I’m not asleep,” you muttered, huffing loudly at the giggle that escaped her.

“Yeah, well, calling you a crybaby would be insensitive so I went for the next best thing.” 

Her comment made the corners of your lips twitch, and you silently cursed her for always knowing how to cheer you up. You had gotten quite comfortable in your misery.

You pulled the covers down and looked over at where she stood. Your chest grew uncomfortably tight when you saw what was in her hands. 

“Another one?” You asked and rolled over to face the window. You had forgotten how stubborn he was. Competitive bastard. 

“Yes, and they just seem to get bigger and bigger. I like the daffodils in this one though, very spring-esque. The other ones didn’t have any daffodils,” she mused as she walked in and headed towards the far end of the room, most likely towards the dresser. It was the only surface area not currently taken up by a bouquet.

This was the sixth bouquet he’d sent. In three days. He had turned Mor’s guest room into a damn flower shop. Just being in a ten feet proximity of this room would have sent Cassian into a sneezing frenzy.

“Remember that time in Elain’s garden, when you told me daffodils were your mom’s favourite flower? That she called you her little daffodil when she carried you in her womb? They are very beautiful – just like you. 

“Yours, Azriel.” Mor read the note before carefully putting it back with the flowers. 

Every set of flowers had come with its own handwritten note. He had apologised in the first one, the rest told you he missed you, recalling memories of moments you’d shared. Each one ended with a heartfelt compliment, one that brought tears to your eyes every time, without fail.

Mor let out a slight sigh. “I am fully on your side here, and I don’t want to pressure you into anything, but… are you sure you don’t want to talk to him? I know you’re hurt, and you have every right to be, but… he’s a good male and he likes you – a lot.” 

She’s right. You figured that out two days ago. But your pride was wounded, and your trust had been betrayed, and it stung. 

However, somewhere along when the initial pain had started to diminish it had slowly but surely gotten replaced by the agony of missing him. Now you didn’t know what part of the pain came from what, you only knew that it hurt. 

But Gods, you really did miss him – more and more by the minute. You missed him in your bones; your best friend, your partner in crime, the male you loved. 

“Alright, you don’t have to say anything. I have to visit Rhysand to go over some work though, and I won’t be home until late tonight, probably. There is food and tea in the kitchen, or you can go down to the pub downstairs and ask them to make you something. Just… make sure to go there earlier in the evening to avoid drunken idiots, okay?” You rolled over to look at your friend, who once again proved herself to be way better than you deserved. You nodded. 

“Thank you,” you whispered and her lips curved upwards in a soft smile.

“Of course, take care of yourself,” she said, that warm smile still intact as she made her way out of the room, closing the door behind her. 

After dragging out your stay in bed a few more minutes, the thought of a warm cup of tea became too enticing to ignore. Chucking on a thick sweater you dragged your feet out of the bedroom.

Once in the kitchen, you put the kettle on the stove and went in search of some tea. Where was the one Mor made you yesterday? The one that felt like drinking a warm, spiced hug – you needed that one right now. You found it in one of the cupboards just in time for the water to start boiling. So you made your cup of tea, drizzled in a little bit of honey, and walked out to the living room. You had just put your tea down and made your way over to the wall of bookshelves to pick out a new story to escape into when there was a knock on the door.

The way your entire body froze, yet seemed to come alive at the same time, signalled you knew who it was. How your body and soul could possibly know it was Azriel on the other side of that door, you weren’t sure. But alas, as you crossed the living room towards the entryway and tugged the front door open, there he was. 

He looked tired. His eyes seemed uncharacteristically old, his skin dull and the bags under his eyes were undeniable. Despite this he still managed to look as breath-taking as always. 

Those tired eyes met yours, and you swore you felt time stop. He was here. Your Azriel. 

Except he wasn’t yours, was he? A truth that only stung worse when your name fell from his lips. But seeing him here, like this… you could live with never having him, you thought. As long as he was in your life, if only as a friend.

That’s why you breathed out a “hi,”, and opened the door wider, a silent invitation to step inside. His shoulders sagged in relief as he stepped over the threshold.

“Hey,” Azriel whispered on a shaky breath, as you closed the door behind him. You stood in silence for a minute, neither of you apparently knowing what to say.

Azriel was the first to break the silence, “so, uh– did you get the…”. Bouquets is what he didn’t say, but he didn’t have to.

“Yeah, yeah I did,” you mumbled, never really meeting his eyes. “Pretty.”

“Yeah? Okay,” you could see him nodding out of the corner of your eye. “Good.”

You raised your gaze to meet his, and your heart clenched. You just wanted things back to the way they were, you wanted your friend back. Because standing here in front of him, not knowing what to say was awful. So you did the only thing you could think of…

“I miss you.” Your voice wavered more than you’d ever care to admit, but there it was – the truth. 

Azriel’s shoulders visibly shuddered at your confession. “Oh, angel,” it was your time to shudder. “I’ve missed you too, so much. I’m so sorry,” his eyes glazed over as he continued, “but please believe me when I say that I did not know – about how you felt. And maybe that makes me stupid, and blind, and oblivious–”

“No,” you interrupted him, “you’re not any of those things, Az.” His deprecating words wounded you so deeply, a heavy sadness filling your chest. 

“I should have known. I never would have– I wouldn’t have been such a coward if I knew.” You swore you heard the remnants of your heart crack. 

“Azzy…” You stepped towards him and reached up to cradle his face in your hands. His own hands flew up to your wrist and you prepared for him to reject your touch. 

Only he didn’t. 

Instead he gently held your hands in place and leaned into your touch in a manner so tender your breath hitched in your throat. His thumbs swiped across the backs of your wrists.

“I’m sorry, I got all up in my head and I–,” you didn’t let him finish.

“It’s okay Azriel, I forgive you.” His posture straightened a little as you continued, “I’m sorry too.” 

You felt a tear roll down your cheek, and before you could even register it happening, Azriel had pulled you into a hug. He wrapped an arm around your waist, his other hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as he held you against his chest. He was so warm, and comfortable, and safe, and one tear became two, became three. All the while, Azriel held you, wings enveloping you in a cocoon as he whispered sweet nothings into your hair. 

After what felt like hours, but was merely just minutes, Azriel dropped his wings from around you and as you felt his arms ease their hold on you, you took half a step back. His hand that had cradled the back of your head now cupped your cheek, the other came to rest on your hip.

You dried your tears, ungracefully wiping snot from your nose, and you once again lifted your head in search of those hazel eyes you had grown so in love with. And as your gazes locked – that’s when you felt it.

Like the snap of a bowstring, dead center in the middle of your chest, that glowing, golden thread locked into place – forever connecting your soul with the male across from you. 

The impact was so intense you staggered back, knocking into the end table behind you. Your hand flew up to your chest, fingers clutching the fabric of your sweater as you tried to make sense of what just happened. 

Azriel is your mate.

Does he know? Does he even want you? A thousand thoughts swarmed your head, but they were all overpowered by one: mate. He was your mate. 

Azriel stood, one arm still partially outstretched, eyes wide and brow furrowed. Something like bewilderment filled you to an overwhelming degree, and it took you a moment to realise that the feelings did not belong to you. They were all Azriel, unable to keep his emotions from bleeding across the bond to you. 

“You’re my–,” you stuttered.

“Yes,” he breathed in response.

“I– I’m your–”

“Yes,”

“You knew?” His eyes shuttered at your question.

“Yes,”

You had to sit down. 

You wobbled over to the couch and dropped down. You didn’t even realise he’d followed you until you felt the seat dip beside you. 

He seemed to realise words were not something currently in your possession, and took it upon himself to start to explain.

“You were sleeping, had been for probably an hour at least, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. I have–,” he swallowed and his whole body shook as he professed his next words. “I have been in love with you since the moment I saw you. When Rhysand introduced you to everyone and you were trying to sneak glances at all of us, thinking you were being discreet. You weren’t – quite the opposite actually.” You turned your head to look at him. One of those rare smiles decorated his face as he recalled the memory. “I think everyone noticed, but no one said anything. They were all probably as smitten by you as I was. Not only were you so adorable, you were the most divine female I had ever seen. Your eyes shone so brightly, and you radiated such calmness, such security – like every problem that had ever been wasn’t so bad after all. Like everything was always going to be fine, as long as you were around. You looked heavenly. Like an angel.” He whispered the last part and as his eyes met yours you sucked in a breath at the emotion swimming in them. 

Angel. His dedicated pet name for you. What he had been calling you, and only you, since that very first day. Not only were you the only person with that specific pet name – you were the only one of Azriel’s friend to even have a pet name, you realised. Sure, he referred to Rhysand and Cassian as his brothers. But you were his angel. 

“You love me?” You croaked, fresh tears filling your eyes.

“Yes, I do.” You hiccupped, face twisting as your chest filled to the brim with so many emotions you could not possibly name them all. He took your hands in his, and gave them a light squeeze as he continued, “When we were on that couch I was just… watching you. Holding you. Realising how perfectly you fit in my arms, when you moved. You snuggled deeper into my chest, like being close to me was an instinctual need, and then you sighed, and you smiled in your sleep – and I couldn’t breathe,” he took a deep breath, “that’s when the bond snapped.” You wanted to reach out and smooth out that crease between his eyebrows. Instead you just moved closer to him, pressed yourself into his side, and when he looked down at you, you gave it your best at pushing some of that endless love you held for him down that glittering bond. 

A sharp exhale left his parted lips and he gave your still entwined hands another squeeze. When he looked at you his cheeks were tinged with pink, the tips of his ears flushed. 

He loved you. 

He was your mate and he loved you.

“I was so shocked. Why would it snap now and not earlier?” He shook his head, his eyes not once leaving yours. “Then I started to… doubt myself,” his brows furrowed deeper, “what if you didn’t want me? I didn’t even know if you knew. Knew and… and decided you didn’t want to be with me. The Gods know I don’t deserve you.” 

You couldn’t help the broken whimper that escaped you as you listened to this wonderful male voice how lowly he thought of himself. 

“Don’t say that Azriel,” you croaked, your voice thick from crying. “I love you so much. I look at you and my heart fills to a point where I genuinely think it might burst,” you coughed out an attempt at a laugh. “You are a good male, and I could not imagine a greater honour than the Mother choosing you as my mate.”

A single tear rolled down Azriel’s cheek at your confession. You untangled your hands from his, instead crawling into his lap. This wonderful male, and he was all yours. The love that filled your chest felt so secure, so safe. Like the warmth of the morning sun. Like the smell of freshly baked bread, and early morning bird song. It felt like the beginning of something great. 

You raked your hands through his hair, and as you leaned in to kiss that lone tear away from his jaw, you watched his eyes shutter closed. 

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips, your forehead coming to rest against his, “my mate.” 

His hands found your hips and gripped them tightly, and the touch was more than welcomed. If it was up to you to decide, he would never let you go – forever in each other’s embrace. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered once more, breath hot against your lips. “I shouldn’t have–… please don’t leave me again.”

“Never,” you promised, and then, like waves crashing ashore, you leaned in that last bit and pressed your lips to his. 

His entire body shook beneath you as he reciprocated the kiss, moulding his lips to yours and you couldn’t help but notice how incredibly right it felt. Like coming home. And as your lips moved together that glowing thread became a wild, real, physical thing between you. His hands gripped you tighter, like you were his lifeline. Pulling you impossibly closer, as if you were the air he needed to breathe. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip and your lips parted, letting your tongues meet in the most delicious of ways. 

The kiss was claiming, overpowering and you could not help the whine that escaped you as his fingers dug into your sides. A primal growl rattled deep in his throat, alighting every nerve in your body. 

This.

You wanted to stay right here, just like this, forever. 

-

You didn’t know how long you actually did stay like that – the two of you seemed to, again, be able to defy the concept of time together. But you were now laying on the couch, Azriel’s heart drumming a steady beat in your ear, a warm, overwhelming comfort overtaking your body. 

Slowly, you started to feel yourself drifting off to sleep, and with your head on his chest, his arms around you, the opening and closing of the front door and Mor’s voice that followed, felt so very far away. You almost didn’t apprehend what she said as her voice moved in closer.

“You better not leave her this time,” she ordered, and the rumble of Azriel’s voice, how very safe it made you feel, lulled you deeper and deeper into unconsciousness. 

Your body was impossibly heavy, the words he mumbled into your hair the last thing you registered before sleep claimed you.

“I won't,” he pressed a kiss to your head, “never again.”

tags: @hnyclover @justdreamstars @historygeekqueen @sharknutz @icey--stars @mel-wcst @alysena2 @lewsnumerounofan

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel angst #azriel fluff #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #a court of thorns and roses #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #lonely with you

[nova-amor]

“my pretty girl, i missed you so much, darling.” nanami kento softly cooed to you, his honey brown eyes brimmed with love and adoration. his gaze warmed every fiber of your being, tugging at the strings of your heart and filling you with the familiar warmth only he could provide. “you feel so good against me; can’t believe i survived so long without you.”

your legs were wrapped around the small of kento’s waist, his cock kissing at the sensitive edges of your cervix. “i missed you more, ken,” you smiled up at him, the sweet stretch of his cock bottoming out inside you making your body grow as light as a feather. kento craddled your cheek with one hand while supporting his body weight hovering above you with the other, his hand scorching hot against your cold cheek. “missed your warmth, missed your touch.”

kento pressed a tender kiss to your lips, slowly retracting his hips from the warmth depths of your cunt before deeply driving his cock right back in. “god, i missed this pussy so much— still taken me so well, baby girl, pussy made just f’r me. i fit so perfectly inside.” he rambled, resting his forehead against yours, completely losing himself to the feeling of you. his hips snapped against yours at a steady, intense pace— yanking moan after sweet moan from your eager throat.

“fuck, ken— s’ good, s’ fuckin’ good—” you cried beneath him, back arching off the flat surface of the bed and chasing after kento’s thrusts. the sound of skin smacking against skin filled the air, the union of heavy pants and moans bouncing off the walls. “missed your cock so much—” the bed frame squeaked with each timed movement of kento’s hips, your hands caressing the soft terrain of kento’s muscular back. “missed how good you are t’ me. never letting you go again.”

“that’s right, pretty girl,” kento’s pelvis rubbed against your clit, dragging against the sensitive bud with each roll of his hips. “no one else is ever touching you again— this is all mine again, baby girl— right?” kento’s statements rang in your ears, your squishy walls clamping down hard on his cock. “you’re ruined for anyone else but me now, baby girl— no one knows you better than i do— you’re all mine. say it.”

your hips bounced against kento’s as his thrusts slowed down, allowing you to take control even while laying sprawled out beneath him. your thighs and calves flexed around him, pushing him out and pulling him back into you at your desired pace. “all your’s, kento. always will be, promise.” your eyelashes were wet with tears, your tight walls squeezing the life out of kento’s cock. you were on the precipice of release, body tingling in anticipation as kento’s cock nudged against the sensitive spot along your gummy walls.

kento was so close too, his muscles tightening and pretty pink lips slightly parted as he got closer to the edge. “fuck, darling,” he hissed, his balls getting heavier and tighter with each smack to your ass. he turned his face away, squeezing his eyes shut. if you kept looking up at him with such a desperate expression, he wasn’t sure if he was going to last any longer. and, he wanted to last longer to cum with you at the same time. “keep makin’ that face and you’re gonna be the death of me.”

#❄️.smut #cw mildly possessive nanami #nanami kento x fem!reader #angelshubnetwork #banners @/cafekitsune #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk nanami #jjk kento #jjk x y/n #jjk imagine #jjk smut #nanami kento #jujutsu nanami #nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen nanami #kento nanami #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento smut #nanami smut #x female reader

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

What is Broken III (Aemond Targaryen x Pregnant Wife!Reader)

The war, the "Dance of the Dragons," as they have come to call it, is over. And yet, you are not celebrating. You have just learned that your husband, Prince Aemond, spent the last months of the war with another woman in his bed. Not only that, but his mistress is pregnant. Just like you...

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (third person, no use of Y/N), side Aemond Targaryen x Alys Rivers

Warnings: Angst, pregnancy and related symptoms, infidelity.

Point of View: Limited third person omniscient

Author's Note: Definitely a good thing I split the last chapter into two, this baby is 13.3k lol

Taglist is done via reblogs

What is Broken

Aemond was still holding her when she woke, his arms wrapped around her chest and his face pressed into her neck. Though the bed was little more than creaky slats and the blankets rough and worn, it had been months since she had been so comfortable—longer still since she’d slept so well, even if it was for only half the night.

As furious as she was with Aemond, her body still craved him. So much so that she could not gather the strength to pull away from him, much less stand from the bed. It felt so right, even if they weren’t in their own bed. Even if they hadn’t shared a bed for more than half a year. And even if they were only in thisbed because they were traveling north to reach the very place where her husband had betrayed her.

When one of Aemond’s arms fell to cradle her belly, she tensed. Was this how he slept with Alys beside him? Did he hold her this tenderly? In his dreams, was he holding his wife or his mistress?

Warily, she looked at his hands. Like his face, the features she was once so familiar with had changed. There were new callouses, new scars, and new veins and tendons that had not been visible before. He’d always had the hands of a skilled swordsman, but now he bore the hands of a battle-hardened warrior and commander.

Curious, she tilted her head as she examined one scar, which started on his palm before passing through the space between his forefinger and thumb and cutting across the back of his hand like an angry slash of a whip. She was so focused on examining the wide red line that she did not notice when her movement stirred Aemond awake.

Not until he spoke with a rough, sleep-heavy voice, his breath fanning the side of her neck. “Did you sleep well, ābrazȳrītsos?”

She did not want to admit it, for doing so felt like conceding some kind of battle. But to argue would take more strength than she was willing to give to something so small. “Yes.”

“As did I,” he pulled her tighter against him as he had once done each morning. How well she had once loved waking up in his arms. She could sense his soft smile and braced herself for what she knew was likely coming next.

But Aemond did not press a lazy kiss to her neck as he once did. He lightly trailed his hand over the swell of her belly until he reached her chest. She tensed, thinking his aim was for her breasts, but his hand stilled atop her ribs.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked as he traced the length of the protruding bones. “That you were still sick – that you were suffering like this.”

She grabbed his hand, pulling it away from the evidence of her illness. While she waited to answer, she again studied that new scar, so bright against his pale skin. It wasn’t like his other scars, which were faintly pink and smooth. This one was red as blood and rough like worn stone.

Aemond let her study the scar without protest and without pressuring her for an answer. She knew he was nervous with anticipation – she could feel how his body stiffened – but she didn’t care.

“How did you get this?”

He made a soft sound of confusion. “Ābrazȳrītsos, please – ”

“Why do you not want to tell me?

“It is not a pleasant story, I…” An exasperated sigh. “I see.”

Holding his hand steadily in front of her, he began his answer. “It is new. I got it during my battle with Daemon.”

Gods, she had hardly thought about the battle. About what had happened to him and Vhagar. Did he have any other injuries? Did Vhagar?

“Caraxes was dying,” he explained, a hint of remorse in his voice. Not for Daemon’s death, she knew, but for his dragon’s. A mount should not perish for the crimes of its rider, especially when there were so few dragons left. “He was falling toward the lake. He’d tried to bite Vhagar’s throat, but she sensed him coming from behind the clouds and struck him instead.

“Daemon knew he had lost and would likely die. But he wasn’t going to just accept it. As Caraxes fell past us, he leapt from the saddle, Dark Sister drawn and… pointed at me. My eye. My good eye.”

Even with her anger, panic seized her heart as she realized how close Aemond had come to death.

“Vhagar angled herself, so instead of going through me, the sword embedded itself into her side. She’s fine,” he assured her after she tensed with worry for the old beast she loved so well. “Even a great sword like Dark Sister is hardly more than a pinprick to Vhagar.

“Daemon lost his grip on the sword but managed to grab my leg before he fell. His weight began dragging me down,” he said, turning his palm toward her. The rein bit into my hand. The maester said it was like a burn.”

Yes, she could see it clearly now. The size and position of the red mark looked precisely as though the rein was still in his grip. Not a scar, then, but something that would possibly become one. One of many.

Aemond did not continue his tale. But she knew what came next – Daemon realizing he was doomed and telling Aemond with his last words that he’d sent a letter exposing what he’d done.

He had still told the tale, knowing that it would again remind her of that damned letter, renewing her ire. After that, she knew he deserved an answer – for this at least. Her health was bound to that of his children, after all. They had been at risk, too.

“Mother and I wanted to tell you. She was distraught.” Her breath hitched as she remembered how her mother had wept and screamed, swearing that she would not lose another daughter. “But Grandsire forbade it.”

Aemond huffed, his body trembling with rage. But he held her no tighter.

“The Small Council agreed with him—that it would distract you too much, that you would return the moment you read the message no matter the cost to the war.” In truth, she understood the logic behind the decision, but her need to have her husband there to comfort her far outweighed her rational mind. “Mother and I tried to send a raven in secret, but Grandsire had anticipated that and had the Rookery watched. The raven carrying the message was shot down.”

After that, she fell silent. There was nothing more to say than that. Only a fortnight later, Daemon and Rhaenyra seized the city and executed Otto, among many others. Daemon had half-heartedly suggested killing her, too, to “send the kinslayer a message” he couldn’t ignore. But Rhaenyra refused without explanation. Perhaps she still extended the same forgiveness to her as when the conflict first began, or she did not wish for the sin of kinslaying to weigh on her, too.

Whatever the reason, she was grateful. For herself and her children. And for all those who would have suffered and died as a result of Aemond’s rage.

The rage was building in him now. “Were he not already dead, I would kill him myself,” he hissed. “And I would not be so merciful as our sister was to kill him quickly.”

“Does it really matter now?” She sighed, dropping his scarred hand.

He flinched as it hit the bed. The wound still hurt, then. “Of course it matters! If I’d known, I – ”

She was glad she couldn’t see his face as she shut her eyes and buried her face in her pillow, pulling out of his grasp. “No more ‘if,’ Aemond! It does not matter what you would have done, because you didn’t do it. The past is past, and you cannot change it. You cannot change what you’ve done, no matter what you say now.”

Silence fell, interrupted only by muffled noises from the awakening town beyond the window.

“I know I cannot change the past,” Aemond said, his voice cracking as if he were near tears. “But I don’t know… what can I do? What can I do to show you how much I love you? How much I have always and will always love you. How much I regret what I did, and how much I wish I could take it back? I don’t know what to do, ābrazȳrītsos. Please. Tell me what to do.”

She said nothing, and Aemond wrapped his arms around her again. “Please, raqiarzītsos, tell me what you want.”

What did she want?

She wanted to pretend nothing had happened. She wanted to be able to forgive him. She wanted their lives to go back to the way they were.

She wanted to scream at him until her voice failed her, then tear him to pieces with her bare hands. She wanted him to suffer for eternity for what he did to her.

She wanted every trace of his betrayal erased entirely. She wanted to have him burn what remained of Harrenhal to ashes with his mistress inside. Better yet, she wanted him to kill the whore himself and mount her head above their children’s cradles.

No, not that. Never that. Even the thought required a prayer to the Father for forgiveness. She did not want blood on her hands or more death. She just wanted to understand everything that happened so she could decide whether she could forgive Aemond – if she wanted to.

“I just want this journey to be over,” she whispered, “so we can go home.”

Aemond’s arms went slack, but he did not let her go. “I… yes, I want that too. I want to go home – with you. Everything will be better once we’re home.”

It was a lie, she knew. But it was nice to let herself believe the lie, if only for a moment.

It was easier, she decided, not to fight.

Easier to let Aemond help her dress, his fingers skimming lightly on her skin in a cruel imitation of past worshipful caresses. To let him serve her food and to eat it all to please him and avoid his pleading for the sake of her and the babes. To let him arrange the pillows and furs in the wheelhouse until they were just so before he sat beside her, holding her in his arms so she could find comfort and rest.

So much easier to not constantly be on guard, ready to snap at his every word. To not constantly fight over every little thing. To find some measure of peace, despite the circumstances.

It was a peace as fragile as spun sugar, but it was peace nonetheless.

At the very least, she could sleep again—without waking to be sick, without fumbling in the sheets to try to find comfort, without reaching across the bed only to find it cold and empty.

After again fussing over her at supper, Aemond would help her prepare for bed. While a bath was being drawn, he would help her disrobe and remove the braids in her hair, brushing out tangles with the singular focus of a holy man studying his texts. When he led her to whatever bathing room their accommodations provided, he did not touch her more than absolutely necessary – a hand to help her stand, a gentle grasp on her elbow as she walked, and his arms around her when she stepped into the bath. Then, he left her alone.

Before, he would never have done so. He would either join her in the bath, touching and teasing her so much that the water went cold by the time they actually washed themselves, or sit beside it while he read to her.

It was odd to bathe alone, with neither husband nor servants to attend her. The quiet made the room seem infinitely larger. And lonely, even with the babes in her belly. She made a point of bathing as quickly as possible so she did not have to endure it for too long.

When she called for Aemond, she would listen to each of his footsteps before he paused at the door, knocking softly. He would not enter unless she allowed it and affirmed it twice. When he helped her out of the bath and dried her, he hesitated before moving to certain parts of her body – her chest, her face, between her legs – and his touch grew even gentler, like he was afraid she would break if he pressed too hard. She was both grateful for it and incensed that it had become necessary.

He brushed and braided her hair once more and dressed her in her nightgown before tucking her tightly into bed and crawling in beside her. He took her in his arms and pulled her close, softly singing Valyrian lullabies into her ear until she fell asleep.

On the twelfth night after leaving King’s Landing, neither acknowledged aloud that their peace would irreparably shatter the next day – when they arrived at Harrenhal at last.

Night had long since fallen when the towers of Harrenhal appeared over the tops of the trees. Aemond brought his wife closer to his chest, careful not to wake her. He knew that with their arrival, the relative harmony – the precious near-normality – of the last few days would soon end, possibly forever.

He dreaded seeing her at Harrenhal. It was too broken, too dirty, too dark for her. She would stand out like the moon against the night sky. And when she looked at those ruined black walls… he would have to see the pain on her face as she looked at each room and alcove, wondering if it was one of the places he’d been with Alys.

That would be the worst – seeing her face Alys. Each time he tried to convince her not to meet the witch, she refused, saying she wanted ‘answers.’ It wounded him deeply to hear her say that, but he understood. He had betrayed her trust. Destroyed her trust in him as thoroughly as he had all those towns and villages during the war.

Still, he would not give up trying to change her mind. He would not push her, but he would say whatever he must to protect her.

As the walls of the fortress loomed taller and taller, Aemond knew he needed to wake her soon. But he wanted to savor their last moments of peace, for it very well could be the last they would ever share.

He leaned down to kiss her temple, lightly brushing his knuckles over her cheek. She stirred slightly but did not wake. “Avy jorrāelan, ābrazȳrītsos,” he whispered. “Mīvojughilās jāla dōrī. Ao mirro rȳbilun.” I love you, ābrazȳrītsos. Never forget it. Whatever you hear.

She did not wake until the wheelhouse rumbled over the uneven stones at Harrenhal’s gates. The moment they passed through the thick black walls, she pulled away from him as if his touch would burn her. He felt sick, and forced himself to look away from her.

The fortress appeared just as Aemond remembered, yet it had changed monumentally in the mere days since he had last been within its walls. The towering palisades of melted stone had once seemed strong and imposing but now struck him as decrepit and hubristic. And its inhabitants – now standing in a line to greet the closest thing they had to a lord and master – he had once seen as a mighty and determined army, people he was proud to lead. He saw them for what they truly were now – tired, hungry, and desperate.

As he scanned the crowd, looking for a face he knew would enrage him, he recognized the wide-eyed look he once thought was reverence as something far different. It was fear. These people were afraid of him. He couldn’t allow himself to think too hard on that, not when he still had not seen those sickly green eyes.

Part of him hoped she wasn’t here so his wife could sleep well for one more night. Part of him hoped she was so he could strike her down in front of this crowd of hundreds and prove that she meant nothing to him. Though the babe she carried…

Those eyes weren’t there. Alys wasn’t there. He gave a prayer of thanks for it despite his bloodlust. His ābrazȳrītsos wanted to meet her, yes, but it shouldn’t be here. Not in front of so many people, not when she was exhausted from a long day on the road. And displaying such violence before her, when he knew how she despised it, would break her forever.

He glanced at her and fondly remembered how she had clung to his hand throughout their wedding tourney. What they had done each night after the games to help her forget the violence she’d seen.

It seemed she felt his gaze on her and turned to him. His smile faded. Her eyes, which he had always thought to be full of light and warmth, like a burning hearth, were dull and cold, like the very stones of Harrenhal.

“Is she…” She swallowed thickly. “Is she here?”

She did not face any of those gathered, as if afraid to accidentally look at the witch. He stepped toward her, subtly blocking them all from her view. “No, raqiarzītsos.” He raised a hand to cup her cheek, as he had so many times in the last few days, but now, she moved out of his reach. “She’s not.”

“Can we go inside, then? I’m tired.”

“Of course,” he said as he took her arm – grateful that she still allowed that, at the very least. “But you should eat something before you retire for the night. You have not eaten since midday.”

She blinked, though her face showed no emotion. “I am not hungry.”

Aemond sighed as he guided her to the keep’s entrance. “That may be so, but the babes need you to eat for their sake if not yours.” She gave no reply, but before he could press for an answer, they came upon Ronnel Cratter, the slight, anxious man Aemond appointed to serve as Steward of Harrenhal after Simon Strong had met his fate alongside all others of their line… almost all.

“My prince, how wonderful it is to see you returned!” The poor man was already sweating. “And to at last meet your lovely lady wife. Your husband has always spoken very highly of you, princess.”

She lifted her head to examine Ronnel, her eyes sad yet appraising. Her lips parted slightly but closed again as she inclined her head. He understood the flicker of wariness that passed over her face. She wondered whether the man in front of her knew what her husband had done—if he was complicit in it.

He needed to turn her mind to something else, quickly. “Is everything prepared for the negotiations?”

“Oh, um… yes, they are,” Ronnel stammered.

“When will Stark arrive?” Aemond asked, thankful to have not seen the Northman or any of his forces among those that came to greet them. Their absence would give him time to sort out what to do with Alys before the negotiations demanded his full attention.

Ronnel winced, his rough cheeks turning bright red. The man had never been able to conceal a lie—it was the reason Aemond chose him as steward of Harrenhal. “Lord Stark arrived three days ago, my prince.” He shrunk into himself slightly, rightly anticipating his master’s anger at his words. “He claimed it was too late to greet you and the princess and asked that I tell you he looks forward to meeting you at the negotiations tomorrow morning.”

The sheer fucking disrespect. To be in what was his keep in all but name and refuse to greet him upon arrival? Somewhere in his mind, Aemond knew why Stark had done it, to establish his dominance like the pissing dog he was. But he could only truly think about the insult of it. His very bones sang with bloodlust, negotiations and peace be damned.

But then, a gentle hand on his arm. Warm, even through his thick leathers. Her hand. Her graceful, soft, beautiful hand. She looked at him, gaze never wavering.

“I’m tired, Aemond.”

Only she could have stayed his hand. He had grown so accustomed to bloodlust in the months he’d been here that any other solution seemed folly. But to kill or even maim Cregan Stark would likely reignite war and, worse, deprive him forever of his wife’s love. If he hadn’t lost that already.

So, Aemond turned to Ronnel and fought to control his breathing. “Take us directly to our rooms.”

As they followed the steward through the dark stone halls, his wife looked at him from the corner of her eye but swiftly looked away. Her eyes roved every hall, alcove, and doorway, fear and hurt in her eyes. Did she think she could somehow see where he had been with Alys? Could she see the lingering ghosts of his betrayal?

He was certain he could—he would. That is if he were to enter any part of the keep where he had been with Alys, and he certainly had no intention of doing so. He had sent a raven to Ronnel with specific instructions to prevent it, although his ābrazȳrītsos’ request to meet Alys might require it…

“Here we are, my prince,” Ronnel said as he opened the door to a well-appointed, if somewhat small suite in the guest’s wing. “And princess!” he added hastily. “Forgive me, princess. I have become quite used to only addressing your husband…”

She ignored him entirely, walking to the center of the sitting room as she surveyed the space. The rooms were less than half the size of those Aemond had occupied before. But he could not bring his wife to those rooms or that bed. Perhaps he would have them burnt.

He watched as she crossed the room, headed directly for the bed. She brushed a hand against the blankets before recoiling as if the bed would bite her. Slowly, she turned to face him with such a look of desperation that he came to her side immediately.

“What is it, my love?” He crossed the room and took her hands in his own, holding them close to his chest. “What’s wrong?”

Tears formed in her eyes as she looked from him to the bed and back again. “Is this…” She took a shaky breath. “Was she in here? With you?”

Ronnel’s eyes went wide before he made a hasty, silent exit.

“No!” Aemond answered nearly before she finished her question. He leaned forward, pressing their brows together. “Of course not, ābrazȳrītsos. I promise, I – never, in this room. I swear it on my life.”

There was still mistrust in her eyes, but she nodded. “I don’t like it here.”

Once, he did. Once, this was his domain, his kingdom. Now, it was a barren wasteland occupied only by regret and shame. “I do not like it, either.”

She looked at his chest, but he knew she was somewhere far away. “I want to sleep.”

“I know,” he pulled away, brushing her cheek with the backs of his fingers. Though it had only been thirteen days, he was sure he could see a new fullness to her cheeks, a new softness around her waist, and a renewed light beneath her skin. He would not allow that progress to falter. “But you must eat, remember?”

She sat at the foot of the bed, wrapping her arms around herself. “I really am not hungry, Aemond.”

“You needn’t eat much,” he countered, sitting next to her and trying not to flinch when she angled herself away from him. “Some broth? Perhaps with a little bread? You must have something.”

He watched as her hand cradled her belly, stroking softly as if to soothe the babes with her touch. Resisting the urge to put his hand over hers was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but he understood full well that to do so was a privilege he did not deserve.

“Very well,” she said at last. “But just a little.”

“Of course.” Aemond held his hand out for her to take, but she hardly glanced at it. “Is there anything else I can do, ābrazȳrītsos?”

She thought for a moment. “I would like to bathe before I retire.” Aemond immediately rose and positioned himself to help her stand, as he had for days now. “Can you summon servants to help me?”

A simple request shouldn’t have wounded him so deeply, yet it did. The bond they had begun to reform was gone, perhaps forever. Being denied this – the mere pleasure of helping his wife – felt like a mortal wound.

“Yes, I will fetch them now.” His voice was wavering. He could hear it as he could feel his composure teetering ever closer to breaking. He lingered a moment longer, hoping she would say something more, that she would change her mind and let him help her, or that she would say something to suggest that she still trusted him, still cared for him.

She said nothing.

Aemond almost wished she would scream and rage and roar at him as she did that first night in King’s Landing. It was better than this, the half-life she seemed to be living. The exhaustion and indifference. Let this be because of her pregnancy, he silently begged the gods. Let us finish this, go home, and be well again. Let her be well again.

“I love you,” he whispered before exiting the room.

He did not expect her to say it back, but the silence still stung.

The servants arrived before Aemond did. It caused no small amount of unease in his wife’s chest. As the servants he sent undressed her and prepared her bath, all she could think of was where he could have gone and why he’d left her for so long. Had he gone to fetch food himself?

It didn’t help that the servants were utterly silent. It wasn’t like the light quietness that sometimes settled over her own servants at the Red Keep. This was a heavy, cloying silence. None could hold her gaze for more than a moment before looking sheepishly away.

They know, she realized. They all know what Aemond did.

Her mind started to race. They probably even helped him. Alys is likely their friend. After all, she was a servant before. When they leave here, they’ll probably run straight to the witch to tell her how pathetic she is and how Alys is far more beautiful than her. They’d –

She could stand their presence no longer. As one of them brought a dampened cloth to wash her shoulder, she flinched away, splashing water over the edge of the copper tub. “Get out!” Her voice was foreign to her as she screamed, cruel and hoarse with desperation. “All of you, leave! Now! Get out, get out, get out, get out!”

She continued shouting, covering her ears with her hands and scrunching her eyes shut. The babes protested, kicking frantically against her stomach. But she could not stop screaming.

How could she do anything other than scream? And cry? And rage? She was trapped in the very place where the worst thing to ever happen to her had occurred.

This was hell. It had to be, for being in these walls was torture. What had she done to deserve such a thing? What grave sin had she unknowingly committed? Why was this happening? Why? Why? Why? Wh –

“Ābrazȳrītsos!” Aemond’s voice was accompanied by the feeling of his large hands wrapping around her wrists, gently prying her hands away from her ears. “Ābrazȳrītsos, look at me! Please, my love, you must calm down.”

His words did no such thing; she barely even registered that he was speaking to her or touching her. This was just another torture, to be constantly with the man she both loved and loathed.

“Lykirī, ābrazȳrītsos, kostilus.” The words, now spoken in their mother tongue, finally began to slip through the whirling thoughts in her mind. “Āmāzin. Tolvȳn sȳri issa. Ao ȳghāpa iksā, jemot kīvio ñuhe tepan. Yn ao lykemās bēvilās, iā jāla riñari ōdrikōt.” Calm down, ābrazȳrītsos, please. I am back. All is well. You are safe, I promise. But you must calm yourself, or it may harm the babes.

“Kostan daor,” she pled. I cannot.

Aemond tightened his grip on her. “Ao bēvilās, kostilus!” You must, please!

She shook her head as her entire body began to tremble, and a chill numbness crept into her fingertips. “Jeme gīmīt, Aemond. Jeme līr nyke istan gīmīt.” They know, Aemond. They know what you did.

“Gīmin, ābrazȳrītsos, drējī usōven.” He leaned closer to her, his elbows now resting in the bath, water creeping up his sleeves. “Drējī usōven.” I know, ābrazȳrītsos, I am so sorry. I am so sorry.

She curled in on herself as tightly as she could. “Ao ōdrittan yne. Ao qrimpāletan yne.” You hurt me. You betrayed me.

“Gīmin. Jāle hegnīr daor jaelan. Tolikta mirroso.” He was half in the bath with her now. I know. I regret it. More than anything.

“Istan aōha riñari nevīlen,” she cradled her belly protectively, “se vasīr toile ābroma ēdan ojenille hēnkirī.” I was pregnant, with your children, and you still fucked another woman.

“Gōntan.” I did.

“Ao yne pirtra ivestretan, avy hen yne hēdrȳ ruartan.” You lied to me, hid her from me.

“Gōntan.” I did.

“Ao īlē nevīlen aōha ilībōño gōntā. You let her carry your bastard.

He flinched then. Unlike before, seeing him hurt didn’t make her feel any better. “Gōntan.” I did.

“Lo Daemon ivestretaks yne gōntē daor, nyke dobotēdāvī iemnȳ glaesilun. Ao yne ivestrilū gaomilū daor.” If Daemon hadn’t told me, I would have lived forever in ignorance. You were never going to tell me.

“Istan.” I was.

“Skorȳso?” Her voice failed her, morphing into a wordless cry, and it became painful to speak in the language of their ancestors – yet another thing she and Aemond shared. Had it been tainted by Alys, too? “Why? Have I done something to displease you? Am I not enough for you? Do you not love me the way I love you? Do you hate me?”

“No! No, my dear, I – ” He swallowed a choking sob as he stammered. “I love you. I love you more than anyone has ever loved another. You are my very soul, ābrazȳrītsos.”

There was no hint of falsehood in him. But how could that be true? How could he love her so much and hurt her so deeply? She lifted her head to face him. She had never seen him so distraught, even the night his secret had been revealed. “Then why?”

“I…” He dropped his head, his brow coming to rest on the edge of the copper bath. “I don’t know. I cannot explain it. I was foolish. And weak. But know I will do anything to show you how sorry I am. I will be your eternal servant. I will go into exile if you ask it of me.”

He pulled away from her, drawing his dagger and positioning it before his heart, the tip biting ever so slightly into his leather surcoat. “I will end my own life if that is what it takes to make you happy.”

“No!” Her reaction was immediate, a tug on some unseen string that connected them soul to soul. What would she become if that line was cut? “I don’t want that. I just – I want to sleep.”

Aemond’s dagger clattered to the stone floor. She didn’t know if it was relief or regret that painted his face. She didn’t know which she would prefer.

“Let’s get you out of the bath and dry first,” he sighed as he stood to fetch a towel. It was somewhat irritating that he did not ask if she wanted his help. But even if she had, she would have said yes. She would much rather endure his presence than the servants who looked at her as if she were a freak in a mummers show.

With the towel slung over his shoulder, Aemond extended his hand to help her stand. His touch was again hesitant and respectful. His eye turned as far away from her as he could allow it while still being able to help her.

“Where did you go?” Her question caused him to freeze with his hands on her shoulders as he softly dried the lingering water from her back. “After you summoned the servants, where did you go?”

He sighed. “I was waiting in the hall, ābrazȳrītsos. I thought you would not want me to intrude while you were…” another sigh. “I was only in the hall, I promise.”

Begrudgingly, she believed him. He had arrived quickly after she started screaming. But knowing he had not sought out Alys made her feel little better. She did not know why.

A dark seed of mistrust had been planted in her heart, strangling it with thorns of anger and spite as it grew and grew. Would that it were only a plant, she would tear it out of her chest with her own hands with no thought to the blood and thorns that would shred through her. It would still be better than this.

That terrible, unnatural silence again fell upon them as if it were a specter haunting their every thought and movement—a shadow larger and more terrible than Vhagar herself that turned each glance into a piercing shard of ice and each touch into the grating pain of fingernails digging into stone. It vanished only when Aemond slid into the bed beside her and moved to embrace her.

“No!” she hissed as she pulled away. “Not… not tonight. Not while we are here.” She felt Aemond’s hand pulling back as if the limb were her own. Felt the shifting of the bed as if it were the earth quaking and rending beneath her.

“I understand, ābrazȳrītsos. Drējī usōven.”

She could see him in her mind’s eye, lying next to her like a corpse prepared by the Silent Sisters – his legs straight and arms folded over his ribs. She could see the pain on his face, the tears likely spilling over his temples and into his hair. She could see his fingers trembling as he fought his body and soul’s command to touch her, hold her, love her.

Cruel visions sent by the ghost Aemond had created the moment he took Alys to his bed.

They followed her into her dreams.

Aemond did not sleep.

Though he lay in bed, he found no rest. From the moment his wife closed her eyes, he was haunted by demons of his own making – memories and visions of his sins.

He saw the first night he fucked Alys. Saw how weak and small he looked as he sat before the fire in his chambers, staring at the black sky outside the window. Saw the fear and doubt on his face as he thought about leading men into battle when the sun rose. Saw himself as a pathetic little boy, not a prince or the rider of the largest dragon in the world, certainly not like a man who could win a war.

He watched as his attempts at resisting Alys became quickly feeble. That night, he was desperate for anything to tether him to himself, and his Ābrazȳrītsos was so far away… he was little better than an animal. He was an animal. The way he touched her, clawed at her, bit her was no less than beastly.

Everything that made him a man – made him worthy of his wife – vanished the moment he touched her. To gain it back would not be so easy.

It would begin with the peace negotiations. Putting an end to the war that had driven this wedge between them would be the first step, not only in saving his marriage but also in healing what would soon be his realm—their realm.

He turned his head to look at his Ābrazȳrītsos. His queen- his dārītsos. It was a pleasure he had not allowed himself since lying beside her.

She was so beautiful. She would always be beautiful. Even when she was so thin, and her brow was creased with sadness, she was beautiful. How had he ever thought that he deserved such a perfect wife?

Perhaps it would be best if he agreed to what Aegon had threatened. Exiling him and Vhagar would undoubtedly put many who supported Rhaenyra at ease. Then, she would marry Aegon and become the queen she deserved to be, at least for a while. None could protest the legitimacy of their babes’ claims to the throne if she were the crowned queen.

In his exile, Aemond could travel to the ruins of Old Valyria to let whatever horrors his ancestors left behind mete out the judgment for his sins.

But Aegon would die soon, leaving her a widow. A widowed queen could never remarry. She would become little more than a decoration, the poor dowager queen forever standing in the shadows. And she would not be allowed to serve as regent for their heir – nor would their mother, despite having governed the realm for years while their father was infirm.

Who would speak on behalf of their child? The Small Council was filled with vultures seeking their own advantage. Larys Strong and his ilk slithered like snakes into every and any ear they could to try and advance their positions. Traitors who had only sworn loyalty to Aegon when it became clear Rhaenyra’s claim was doomed.

The only people he trusted to guide the children would be Grand Maester Orwyle, newly freed from the Black Cells, or Tyland Lannister. But that wasn’t enough. Who would protect her from those who would seek to take advantage of her?

No, he could not leave her. Despite her feelings toward him, he was the only one capable of keeping her safe. He had to stay, for her sake, he told himself.

Though in his heart, he knew the decision was selfish.

Aemond stared at her until the first rays of sunlight shone through the eastern window, imagining her perfect features on their children. Her dark eyes, the curls in her hair, the soft innocence of her smile. He nearly wished that he would see nothing of himself in the babes.

Then, those dark eyes opened, looking blearily at him. He swore there was a flicker of unabashed joy and love in them before they again went cold. At least the rising sun still gilded them with gold. Yes, the babes should have those eyes.

She turned away from him and tried to stand.

“Don’t wake, my love.” He said gently, a hand hovering just above her shoulder to stop her from rising. “Stay and rest, please.”

“No, Aemond.” She frowned, that sweet mouth set in a hard line. “I do not want to sleep. I wish to go with you today.”

She had been so upset by his leaving the night before. Had she not believed him when he gave his answer? Did she want to monitor him to ensure he did not betray her again? He shook his head. “I promise I am not going to see – ”

“I know you aren’t.” She sat upright, facing away from him. He wanted to embrace her, to hold her against his chest, but she hadn’t wanted that last night. He had resisted touching her since then. He could remain strong. “I wish to accompany you to the negotiations with Lord Stark.”

That wasn’t what he’d been expecting. She had never shown an interest in such things before. “Whatever for?”

She pouted in response. “If I am to be your queen, I must be prepared. Mother ruled alongside Viserys. I intend to do the same.”

Their mother had not only advised Viserys but ruled in his stead when he was too ill to sit the throne himself. It made sense that she would want to follow the path Queen Alicent had made. She knew little of what it took to rule a kingdom, but she was smart, she would learn.  

“Very well.” He nodded as he stood from the bed to help her stand. His heart almost burst when her hand touched his. “I must admit that to have you beside me will fortify my resolve.”

He expected that would make her smile – hoped it would.

She dropped his hand. “And after, you will take me to see Alys.”

Damn it. Damn it all, especially that witch.

“Ābrazȳrītsos…” she scoffed and turned away from him, ignoring his outstretched arms. He followed her into the dressing room. “Raqiarzītsos, please. I beg you, do not insist on this.”

“I need answers, Aemond.” She hid her face in the mass of dresses that now hung on racks, but he could still hear the wavering determination in her voice.

He understood well what she was too polite to say plainly. She needed answers from Alys because she did not trust that Aemond told the whole truth. Even the implication stung deep in his chest. On that, he knew he could not change her mind.

“I understand,” he said carefully, remaining in his place by the door. It was the truth. “But Ābrazȳrītsos… can it not wait until you are stronger? Until the babes are born and you have recovered from the hell they’ve put you through? Then I can fly you back here on Vhagar so you don’t have to stay here and wonder…”

Only once had she acknowledged her curiosity about where in the keep Aemond had been with Alys – when they first arrived in their rooms. But he had seen it from the moment they passed through the walls. That uncertainty made her seem even frailer than she already was.

Her hand tightened on the velvet of a green dress. “I don’t want to come back.” He took a step forward, but she faced him. The tears in her eyes halted him immediately. “I don’t ever want to come back to this place again, so it must be now. Today.”

Aemond’s heart had shattered days ago, but the pure agony in his ābrazȳrītsos’s beautiful eyes then trampled the remaining shards to dust.

“Today it will be, then.” He could not banish the worry from his face, but she smiled anyway. “Tomorrow, we will go home. If Stark still has anything to say, he can follow us back to King’s Landing.”

Cregan Stark was already in the great hall when they arrived, along with what seemed like the bulk of his forces. Of course he was. After his absence at their arrival last night, Aemond was a fool to think he’d do anything else.

The Lord of Winterfell was every bit a wolf.

He certainly smiled like one as Aemond walked through the doors, standing to bow only his head. He seemed to think his prideful displays of irreverence would somehow give him an advantage in the negotiations.

But a wolf was nothing to a dragon.

“My prince,” the lord’s voice was anything but respectful. Perhaps he still held a grudge for the death of Jacaerys. Not that anyone was to blame for that but the bastard himself. “You have joined us at last.”

Aemond adopted a similar arrogant countenance. His was far more deserved. “Alas, my wife’s comfort was of greater importance to me than your patience, Lord Stark.”

Stark’s eyes slid behind Aemond to his ābrazȳrītsos, the feral glint within them softening, then sharpening in something like concern. “Princess,” he said with a deep bow—far deeper than what he gave Aemond, his Prince Regent. “I was not expecting to meet you, but I am very glad of it. I hope you are well?”

“Thank you, my lord,” she replied, quiet yet confident. “The journey was long, but I fared well.”

“That is good news.” Cregan arched a thick black brow as he thoroughly examined her, his eyes landing on her belly. “I hope your condition is not giving you too much trouble.”

“She is perfectly well,” Aemond snapped before she could even open her mouth. He did not like the way the wolf looked at her like she needed protection. She was his wife, his to protect. He would not endure the suggestion that he had failed in that duty. Despite what he’d done, she had remained safe.

Her eyes found him, then turned to Stark. She nodded primly, the barest remnants of a smile on her lips. Even as he recalled her old smiles, wide, bright, and perfect, seeing her lift her lips made his heart swell with affection. Perhaps one day, he would see her truly smile once more.

“Let us begin, then.” He led her to the table, seating her at his right hand before taking his place at the head of the table. Stark regarded him with barely disguised disdain but was silent as he continued. “You have been chosen to represent those who foolishly supported my half-sister. By my brother, King Aegon’s grace, you have been granted your lives despite your treason. But our concern now is not revenge, but peace.”

He glanced at his wife, his reason for peace. He would do anything he could to ensure she and their children never again faced war—even this. “What is it you and your allies require to ensure peace?

Stark again donned that wolfish smile, though it faltered slightly when he, too, looked to Aemond’s wife. “We thank you for your… generosity, my prince. But, before we begin any negotiations, I would ask for assurance that whatever terms we agree to will be upheld.”

The nerve to ask for such a thing as the defeated traitor was astounding. Aemond had half a mind to simply kill the man. It would send a message to those who had supported Rhaenyra. Scare them away from further rebellion.

Though perhaps it was not the message he wanted to send. Not the way he wanted to begin his reign.

Not something he wanted his wife – his queen – to witness.

So, he took a deep breath and summoned a matching cocky grin. “You have the assurance of the crown and throne, Lord Stark.”

“And how am I to trust that?” Cregan said, tipping his head so far it rested against the back of his chair. “With your brother… as he is, you are the crown and throne, Prince Aemond. I expect you will have them for yourself soon rather than borrowing them from Aegon. How am I to trust you?”

Cold suspicion crept up Aemond’s spine as Stark again looked at his wife, something like an apology on his face.

It disappeared when he again looked at Aemond. “How am I to trust that you will uphold your promises to me, when you cannot even be trusted to honor your vows to your wife?

He fucking knew. Somehow, he fucking knew.

Aemond would kill him.

He would sew that wolf’s smile shut so he could not scream. He would tear out his eyes and rip out his fingernails. He would use every method of torture he had ever learned of – through his books and his own practical experience – to kill Stark slowly. He may even invent some new techniques of his own.

He would find the person who told him – likely one of the servants in the keep he’d bribed while waiting for Aemond’s arrival – and do the same to them, as he would to anyone who ever spoke a word about it in his wife’s presence. He would –  

The burning rage inside him cooled in an instant, as if smothered by a northern wind. But it was not a cold wind that brushed against his hand – it was the warm, smooth skin of his wife.

While he had become blinded by his anger, she had reached across the table to entwine her fingers with his. Her grip was stiff and too tight, and he could feel her shivering, but she had done it.

She had touched him.

Of her own free will.

Even with all he had done, all the ways he had wounded her, she was still there – still with him, offering her support.

He did not delude himself into thinking it was forgiveness or even a gesture of love. There was no hint of affection in her eyes. For all he knew, she may never touch him again.

But she still stood by his side as his wife. His future queen.

And that simple gesture was enough that the corners of Stark’s mouth turned down, and his swaggering lessened. Aemond beamed at his wife, letting her see all his gratitude and love. She nodded, and he decided that was enough, at least for now.

He turned back to the wolf at the end of the table. “State your terms.”

The negotiations were still a battle, though they never again came close to physical blows. An agreement was reached, with the crown conceding more than Aemond wanted but less than Stark wanted. No one was happy—a perfect compromise.

When it was over, and Stark rose to leave, Aemond turned to Ronnel, who sat at his left, to make preparations for their departure tomorrow. He wanted everything ready so they could depart at dawn and leave this wretched place behind. But a low voice began murmuring to his right.

Cregan godsdamned Stark was whispering in his wife’s ear.

She did not smile, but her cheeks were flushed. When Stark finally closed his bastard mouth, she whispered something back. The thirst for murder slowly crept back into Aemond’s heart. But then Cregan was walking away, and his wife held his gaze.

“He was only apologizing,” she whispered cautiously. “For what he said, and how it hurt me.”

Of course, Aemond received no such apology. He didn’t want one anyway. He would much rather have Stark’s head on a spike while his body was fed to Vhagar. Fulfilling that wish could wait, if it would ever be possible. Now, she was his only true concern.

“I’m sorry as well, ābrazȳrītsos. You should not have been put in that position.” He reached for her hand, but she stood—without aid, he noted.

She tried and failed to smile. “It wasn’t me he was insulting. Can we go now?”

Ronnel laughed slightly, a paltry attempt at ridding them of the tension. “I’m afraid the horses and wheelhouse won’t be ready until tomorrow, my princess. I can – ”

“That is not what I mean.” He could see her breath quicken as she looked directly at him. “Aemond, I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?” He couldn’t help but ask, couldn’t let this one last opportunity pass him by. “You don’t have to, love.”

Her mouth tightened, and her brows set. “I know, but I want to.”

There was an open door at the end of the servants’ hall, a fire flickering within.

Alys was expecting them. Had she seen it in a vision, or had the servants from the night before told her?

It didn’t matter, she knew. This would be unpleasant either way. But the thought of Alys knowing how pathetic she’d been the night before still haunted her.

When they were mere paces away from the open door, Aemond said his first words since leaving the great hall: “You do not have to do this, ābrazȳrītsos. We can still turn around.”

She didn’t reply. She had already locked eyes with her husband’s whore as she stepped into the doorway.

Alys was beautiful. Of course she was beautiful. And so different from her.

There was not a single similarity she could find other than the swell of their breasts and bellies from carrying Aemond’s children. Where her hair was pale as the moon, Alys’ was as dark as the night surrounding it. Where her eyes were a warm, deep brown, Alys’ were the cool green of fresh grass. Where she was but a little girl of 17 pretending at womanhood, Alys’ was a woman, with wisdom in her gaze and elegant, dignified lines framing her face to prove it.

Most men would have slighted her in favor of Alys. She just wished Aemond had been stronger than most men.

“My prince,” Alys curtsied as well as she could with her in her state, then turned her eyes to her. “My princess, what a joy it is to meet you at last.”

“Alys,” Aemond growled, stepping between the two women. He began whispering to his mistress so softly that his wife could not understand. It angered her.

“I said –” her voice came out louder than she intended, and the distant noise of conversation from the other servants quieted. That, she had not intended, but at least Aemond and Alys now faced her. “I said I wanted to talk to her, Aemond. Not you.”

His mouth tightened, but he nodded, retreating to stand behind her, still close enough to defend her. Alys smiled at her—not a viper’s smile, leering and poisonous. It was open and kind, as if she were a dear friend rather than the woman who’d slept with her husband and destroyed their marriage.

“Please, come in, princess. I know you must be more comfortable sitting than standing in a hallway.” Though she hated that the woman would dare to make assumptions, it was accurate. Her legs and back were already aching from the walk from the great hall.

Alys opened the door further, ushering them inside. It was a quaint room. Unusually well-appointed with a hearth and seating area, but still obviously a servant’s quarters. Perhaps it had once housed the steward until Alys had become so important to Aemond.

Aemond led her to one of the two stuffed chairs by the hearth, extending a hand to help her sit. She recoiled, eyes flitting to the bed. Had they…?

“Not here,” he whispered, his mouth curling into a frown. “I never… she was always the one to come to me.”

He called her to him like any other servant. He had not sought Alys out himself. It made little difference—he had still summoned her. But it was enough that she accepted his hand and sat, pulling away from him the moment she no longer required his aid.

Alys sat in the chair opposite her, again with that same kind expression. “You have questions for me, yes?”

She nodded, unsure of how else to answer. Alys was not at all what she expected. This was Aemond’s mistress. She had expected a cruel, vain woman who would laugh at her, mock her, and boast that she’d stolen Aemond from her. That was the image she saw when she imagined asking her questions, not this.

“That is quite understandable, dear.” Alys reached out, placing her hand on the arm of the opposite chair, their fingers nearly touching. “I will answer your questions. And I swear, by my own life and that of my child’s, that I will answer truthfully.”

Aemond scoffed quietly, his hand wrapping protectively around the back of the chair. Rage radiated from him, hotter than the fire they faced. She ignored it, and him, entirely.

She believed, once, that she could always trust Aemond. The woman across from her proved otherwise. If the world made so little sense that she could not trust her brother, her husband, her soulmate, then why couldn’t she trust a whore and a witch when she swore on the life of her bastard?

All her questions, all the loose threads she plucked from the story Aemond had woven for her, raced in her mind. Her head began to pulse under the pressure of the storm of anger, devastation, and sadness that raged within her.

But one question returned, over and over again, until it at last reached her lips.

“Did you know about me?”

“I did, my dear. Everyone in the realm and beyond knows of you. The ‘Little Princess,’ they call you.”

“You knew I was – I am – Aemond’s wife?”

Behind her, Aemond stepped forward to stand at her side, a hand extended in question and offering. Offering his support, the strengthening knowledge that he was there for her. The same thing she had given him only hours ago when the peace of the realm teetered on the edge of war.

This time, she did not take his hand.

Alys’ soft smile fell, and what looked to be genuine regret passed over her perfect face. “I did.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“After Aemond gave the order for every man, woman, and child carrying Strong blood was to be killed, my choices were to die with the family who had only ever done precious little for me,” Alys scoffed, as if the possibility was utterly ridiculous, “or to save myself by being whatever your husband wanted me to be. Can you truly fault me for wishing to save my own life?”

No, she couldn’t. If she had been in Alys’ position, she may well have done the same. Had considered it, even, when Rhaenyra and Daemon had taken King’s Landing. To save her children and mother, and to survive until Aemond could rescue them. Fortunately, her uncle had shown no interest in her. Still, she’d been willing to give up that part of her – if it meant keeping the people she loved safe.

“I understand your motivation to save your life,” she said slowly, wetting her lips with her tongue as she glanced up at Aemond, who looked at Alys like he was only barely holding himself back from strangling her. The hand he had not offered her was fisted at his side, knuckles white as bone.

Did hearing how he had been so easily manipulated humiliate him? Did it sting to know that Alys had only truly desired her freedom, not him? That she had used him as much as he had used her?

“I will assure you that I did resist. At least at first.”

In the story Aemond told, Alys was the one who pursued him. He said he spared her because of her visions, not her beauty or any lust for her. Alys was implying she only lain with him because he wanted it, that he was the one who began the affair.

Which was true? Was Alys lying, or Aemond?

Something in Alys’ keen eyes made her think the witch knew her thoughts. “Was he not satisfied with using your powers to aid him in winning the war?”

“My visions can provide guidance, but they are not infallible. And they are not always pleasant. I needed assurance that I would not be killed if the future was altered or if your husband was displeased with what I told him.”

“Surely you could have simply explained this to him,” she mumbled. Aemond was a reasonable man. He would not blame someone for something out of their control—or at least, he had been once.

Alys laughed, quiet and cackling and full of pity. “Oh, my poor dear, you have no idea what your husband became within these walls, do you?”

Aemond stepped forward, a hand on his sword. “Alys…”

She ignored him pointedly. “I know he didn’t tell you in his letters – I was there when he wrote many of them.” A small smile and a smug hum pointed at Aemond as she revealed a piece of what he’d hidden. “But I assumed since he’s now told you about me, he would have told you everything else.”

“Stop, Alys.” Aemond’s voice had grown lower and angrier than she’d ever heard—the voice of the man who had won the war nearly single-handedly, not of her beloved husband and brother. It frightened her. Even when he put a hand on her shoulder, she could not face him, fearing what she would see in that once familiar face.

There was a sickly glint in Alys’ eyes and a curling grin on her full lips. She looked only at Aemond as she spoke. “Did he tell you that he not only gave the order for the entire Strong bloodline be wiped from existence, but that he killed them all himself? Old men, women, and children all died by his sword. No matter how much they begged to be spared or how much they screamed and wept. He was wholly without mercy.” Her mouth hung open, ready to say more, but she glanced back at the princess and quieted, seeing the pain in her eyes.

No, she wanted to say as her stomach turned to burning cold lead. Aemond isn’t so cruel as that. He told her violence was only ever a necessity, not something to be enjoyed. At their wedding tourney –,

Aemond was silent. No rebuttals or denials. Not even an attempt at explanation. He slowly lowered his hand from his sword, as if ashamed to touch it.

That may have been the worst of it, for it meant what Alys was saying was the truth.

Pulling herself out of his grip, she ignored his small grunt of hurt and disbelief, blinked away tears, and fought to keep her voice steady. “Yet he spared you. Because you offered him your visions?”

“Yes, dear.”

She chafed under the seeming affection in Alys’ gaze. This was the woman who had seduced her husband, shared his bed for months, and carried his bastard. Why was she being so godsdamned kind?

“Was it true, then? Your vision about his first battle? That he would need to be fearless going into the battle.” She could feel her entire being trembling with fearful anticipation and guttural rage. “It was because of that vision that you convinced him to bed you, wasn’t it?”

Alys’ eyes flicked to Aemond for the first time since she’d sat down. He tensed behind her with a soft gasp, then a growl.

“It was,” Alys finally said.

“And all the times after?” She heard leather creaking behind her and knew Aemond had dropped his head. “Were there visions for those?”

“I wish I could say there were, if only to spare you from this pain,” Alys sighed, pity practically dripping from her, “but no. I still had visions and shared them with your husband, but none required continued intimacy.”

The stinging tears in her eyes began to fall, and Alys winced at the sight. “I am truly sorry, princess, for the hurt we have caused you. But I cannot regret what I’ve done, for I do believe it saved my life.”

Saved Aemond’s life, as well, if those visions had indeed kept him safe. She again felt that slight tug of gratitude in her chest, only for it to be swallowed by the raging deluge of anger and grief. It threatened to choke her. “And the babe?”

Alys sat back in her seat, absentmindedly stroking where that babe lay. “An unexpected, but not entirely unwanted consequence.”

“You did not drink moon tea?” It was a stupid question, she knew. The evidence that she didn’t was quite visible.

“Such things are luxuries when living in the heart of a war. Those herbs were better used for those who needed them to survive.” Alys’ gaze dropped to where Aemond’s other babes lay. “It took some time, after your wedding, for his seed to take, yes?

Aemond growled again, little better than a guard dog at this point.

Her cheeks flushed. It had taken nearly two years, so long that the maesters began to worry, and the court started whispering. She knew that their grandsire had brought it to the Small Council more than once, and was thankful she was not present – the gods only knew what solutions those men had devised.

“It takes longer for some women than others,” Alys said through a grimace. “It is no shame, merely the unknowable will of the gods.”

“It happened very quickly for you.” In the end, the bastard only proved that whatever had prevented her and Aemond from conceiving was her fault, not his. Perhaps the gods had seen the man he was to become, and those two years were their attempt to push them apart.

Alys thought for a minute, her gaze drifting to the fire between them, turning her eyes into something that did not seem quite human. She frowned, “A stroke of fortune. Good or ill, I cannot decide.”

The witch – for she was indeed a witch, those eyes proved it so – continued to stare into the flames. Aemond again set a hand on his wife’s shoulder, and she wondered whether he considered the bastard to be good fortune. He had not said anything to suggest he was glad of it, but there were memories that suggested he was.

He had learned things from Alys that he tried to use on her. How to hold her to relieve the weight of the babes, and how to cushion her belly when in the carriage. She was sure there was more, perhaps he had done them, and she just hadn’t noticed. But he had held Alys and taken care to protect her child.

It was intimate in a way that suggested they shared more than just sex.

“Does Aemond love you?” Even the crackling of the fire seemed to quiet as the words left her mouth unbidden. But this was the most important question. How deep did Aemond’s betrayal go?

Alys’ answer was just as sudden. “No. Nor I him.”

Her heart pounded to hear those words. Alys had taken so much. Half a year of their lives. Aemond’s touch. The trust between them. But she hadn’t taken Aemond’s heart. That belonged only to her.

Even if she wasn’t sure she wanted it.

She fell silent, considering all she had learned. Aemond fucked Alys, but he didn’t love her. He called her to his room, but her comfortable quarters suggested she didn’t stay with him. He spilled his seed inside her, but took no precautions against siring a bastard. He knew he was to have a child by Alys, but planned to return to his wife. He…

He kept her and the child secret. He had commanded that all those who knew of the affair remain silent, if Ser Willis’ words could be trusted.

Why would he go to such lengths to uphold the secret if he knew he was coming home rather than staying at Harrenhal?

A chill wind passed through her despite the heat of the fire, numbing her, body and soul.

“Did you know Daemon was going to tell me?”

“Ah,” Alys looked ashamed for the first time she had seen. “No. That escaped my vision. It was likely a decision he made just prior to departing for the God’s Eye after I had my initial vision of Aemond’s triumph. And oh, what changes that decision has made.”

That meant… “You believed I wouldn’t find out?”

“Until Aemond returned from the battle, yes.” A humorless laugh. “I was nearly as shocked as him.”

“Then you saw a future where you and your child remained hidden from me.” A statement, not a question, as the truth began to take shape in her mind.

“Yes.”

“Alys, stop.” Aemond had gone entirely still and silent since she asked if he loved Alys. Now, he was frantic and panicked.

She paid him no mind. The truth was in hand, and she would not let it go. “What would have happened? If Daemon hadn’t written that letter?”

“Many things, little one, be more specific.” Alys seemed amused by the turn the line of questioning had taken, almost like a parent helping their child with a logic puzzle.

“Would Aemond…” The words burned in her throat, not the hot burn of anger, but of deathly cold of impending heartbreak. “With you…” she was going to be sick. She could have asked anything else and been fine, but this? She would rather ask how well Aemond had fucked her. “Would it have continued?”

“Ābrazȳrītsos —” He was begging. The man who had slain dragons and burned entire villages was begging, but he did not beg for long.

“Your husband would have taken me back to King’s Landing and brought me into the Red Keep’s household as a wet nurse. I would have nursed your babes and mine, and Aemond would be able to know all his children.”  There was no trace of pride or gloating in Alys’ voice, just the truth. The horrible, horrible truth.

Her tone turned reassuring. “Though, our physical intimacy would not have continued. "When he was finally by your side again, he’d have no use of me in that.” Alys paused, looking once at Aemond. “He does love you, princess. Very much. I’m sorry that I have made you doubt that.”

The bastard would have lived with them. Drank the same milk as her own children. Perhaps even played with them, learned with them. It might even look like them, if it took after its father.

For the first time, she was truly glad for what Daemon had done with his final breaths.

“It was just for the child,” Aemond whispered, his voice utterly broken. “I swear, I… I just wanted to know my child.”

She faced him, feeling nothing at the horror on his face as he fell to his knees beside her. “What about our children? What about me?”

“I thought…” he shook his head as if he did not believe his own words. “I thought that I – ”

“I don’t care, Aemond.” A lie. She cared so much. For him and the love they shared. For the family they were soon to have. For herself. She cared so deeply it felt like a star in her chest, burning with how much she cared.

That star blinked out.

“I don’t care,” she said once more. Then she stood and left the room.

“You lied.”

“Did I?” Alys’ veneer of benevolent politeness was gone the moment they were alone. She looked at Aemond with cold eyes, not a hint of the affection he once saw, feigned as it was. “Your little wife – ābrazȳrītsos, I believe is the term? – is such a charming little thing. I swore to her that I would tell her the truth. Why would I lie to such a sweet girl?”

This was insufferable. She was insufferable. “When you told her about the vision – your first vision. About Darry. I didn’t notice it when you told me then, but I know you better now.” Fear rose to match the anger in his veins as he stood. “That was a lie.”

Alys looked away. The bitch looked away from him to hide the twist of her lips as she looked into the fire. “You won the battle, didn’t you?”

It was a lie. A lie that had destroyed him. Destroyed his life. Destroyed his ābrazȳrītsos. And it was all a godsdamned lie.

He would never have pursued Alys himself. She pursued him, told him that he needed to be relaxed and without fear to win the battle and spare the bulk of his men. When he had not been able to calm himself, it was she who offered her aid.

He had not known what she meant by that, pushed her away when she first tried to kiss him. He’d wrapped a hand around her throat when she first reached out to touch him. He was going to choke her, kill her.

“It won’t mean anything, my prince,” she said when she snuck her hand between his legs. His body trembled at the touch—it had been so long since he had been touched this way. His ābrazȳrītsos had been too ill from the babe she carried, and he would never force her. He had to admit the pleasure cleared his mind. “I merely wish to help you.”

She only ever meant to help herself, not him or his men. And he had been the fool who fell for her act. Again and again.“How many of your ‘visions’ were lies?”

Alys didn’t even play at coyness. She outright grinned as she poked the fire. “Perhaps half. Perhaps more.”

“You vile whore,” he spat with all the venom he could summon.

“Careful what you say, Aemond,” her tone remained sickeningly sweet, her eyes fixed on the fire. “After all, you are the man who fucked this ‘vile whore.’ Over and over again, while that sweet thing,” she pointed her chin at the door, “was frightened and alone.”

Aemond’s breath left in a rush. “You knew she was sick?”

Alys scoffed. “She’s not sick, you stupid boy, just pregnant. It is more difficult for some women than for others. Although the stress of the war likely did not help.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” If he had only known… if, if, if, his entire life reduced to two letters. Damn the word.

“You would have left if you knew, leaving me to fend for myself.” She shrugged casually, but it did not belie the slight sagging of her shoulders. “Besides, I knew she would be well again.”

“A vision?

She smiled wistfully. Any other man would find it a beautiful sight. It made him want to kill her slowly. “Oh, what a lovely vision it was. You arrived home late in the night while she was brushing her hair. I’ve never seen such happiness as when she saw you in the mirror. Your presence alone restored her vitality. When I saw her again after she’d birthed your sons, she was strong and radiant. From Maiden to Mother.”

A crushing in his chest, pain and joy joined as one terrible whole. “‘Sons?’”

Alys looked at him then, no malice or disdain in her gaze. “Yes, she will deliver you two sons.”

Two babes. Two sons. Two heirs.

Their line would be secure with two trueborn princes. The people would take it as an omen that the gods had blessed them, and few would dispute their rule. There would be no need for further children unless something should happen to the boys. Aemond would never let anything happen to them.

There would be no need for his wife to remain in his bed.

It was his punishment, he supposed. He would have the throne and the family he always coveted at the cost of his wife’s love.

“Will they be healthy?” It was good, he told himself. He deserved this punishment, after all, and she deserved to be free of him, as much as a queen can be free of her king. So long as their sons – their bloodline – were strong.

“They were in my vision, but now that future is changed,” Alys looked back at the fire, poking at it as if searching for something. “I have not seen what will now be.”

“Try.” The babes had to be healthy after all they’d put their mother through. She must not suffer any more than she already had – at their hands or Aemond’s.

She could not bear the loss of a son. Neither could he.

“You know it doesn't work like that, Aemond. I swear, if I could see it, I would tell you.” Again, she scoured the wood and ash and flame. “But when I looked into the fire after you flew south, all I saw was smoke.”

“You lied then. You could be lying now.” He knew she wasn’t. He prayed she was.

“I give my word that this is the truth.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Aemond, this only means I cannot see what will happen. It doesn’t mean that they will not –”

“Do not speak to me!” He roared as he hadn’t since he was told Daemon and Rhaenyra had taken King’s Landing. It felt like fire was trying to burn its way out of his throat. “Do not speak to me ever again or show your face before me. If you do, I…”  

Alys laid a hand on her belly, and he recoiled in shame. To banish her would also be to banish her child—his child.

He shouldn’t care for a bastard, he knew. It was a stain on his honor, a permanent reminder that he was not the man he hoped he would be, the man his ābrazȳrītsos deserved. But it was also his child—his blood.

His eye burned in such pain he could hardly feel his zaldrīzītsos squeezing his hand while she wept. But it was nothing to the gaping hole in his chest where he once hoped his father would lay.

The old man would not even look at him. He appeared as if his greatest concern wasn’t the damage to his son but that he longed for his bed. When Aemond’s mother begged for justice, his father looked on her as if she were mad.

“He is your son, Viserys. Your blood.”

Aemond swore he would not be like his father. He knew what it was to be neglected by those he shared blood with and couldn’t stand the thought of doing it himself.

Yet he had also sworn to do anything for his ābrazȳrītsos’ happiness.

“I will send funds for the child’s care,” his voice was weak now that his inner fire had faded. “But I forbid you from naming me as the father to anyone on pain of death.”

“You would condemn your child to fatherlessness?”

The fire roared back to life, as large as the swaths of destruction he had laid across the Riverlands.

He approached Alys with his dagger in hand, unaware of when he had drawn it. “It is only because of the child that I do not slit your throat here and now. Be grateful for what I am giving you. It is well beyond what most whores receive for their bastards.”

Aemond stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He shut his eye and breathed heavily. In. Out. In. Out. Only when he had calmed – enough that he was no longer on the precipice of violence – did he look down the hall, only to find it empty.  “Ābrazȳrītsos?”

There was no reply. Until –

“Aemond!” Her voice was strained, desperate, and, worst of all, followed by a long moan of pain.

He screamed her name as he ran toward her voice. Why was she in pain? Was she ill again? It had never happened before night fell, as far as he knew. Had someone hurt her? Alys? Stark? He’d kill them – slowly, painfully, without mercy. He’d –

She was slumped against the wall. Her sweet face was flushed and scrunched with pain, her mouth open as she moaned. But there was no hint of injury. She looked whole.

Then, Aemond saw it.

There was a steadily growing pool of liquid surrounding her. Not blood, thank the gods, but… Alys once said there was a release of fluid when a woman began her labors.

No. No. It was too early. The babes were not ready yet. If they were born now, they would not survive. They would be like Rhaenyra’s daughter Visenya – weak and deformed. They would have scales or horns or tails or talons, perhaps even malformed wings.

They couldn’t come now. They couldn’t. Not only for their sake, but if they had those horns or talons, they could kill their mother as they ripped their way out of her.

Aemond couldn’t let it happen. There had to be something he could do, some way he could –

She screamed.

It was the worst sound he’d ever heard. It tore at his chest like a storm ravaged a ship. He could not move, not until he saw her legs wobble as she braced herself against the wall. She was going to fall. He ran forward to catch her, screaming himself.

“Ābrazȳrītsos!”

#aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond imagine #aemond fluff #aemond one eye #aemond smut #aemond the kinslayer #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #hotd #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #ewan mitchell #what is broken

[yutaholic]

smells like teen spirit (M)

PAIRING: Jeno (NCT) + reader (female)

SUMMARY: Jeno keeps getting on your last nerve, but you still end up in his arms with your tongue down his throat.

WARNINGS: strong language; some drug use; explicit sexual content

NOTES: 8.6k words; this is part two of a rose and her thorns, but can be read as a standalone one-shot

Chicago, 1991

A tale as old as time. Sex, drugs, and rock and roll.

That was our life that summer. Some of us in different doses than the others.

You sat on the bed with your legs bent, resting the notebook against your thighs as you scribbled out another page of the band’s escapades.

Though there was a connection with Mark, we agreed to keep things simple for the rest of the summer. Nothing could be allowed to interfere with the band. God forbid we earned a reputation like Fleetwood Mac’s.

Unfortunately, this agreement caused some awkwardness and I handled that the way I always did - with distance. If Mark couldn’t help but complicate things, then I would do him a favor and give both of us the space we needed.

It felt like shit, but I was used to being the villain.

Turning the page, you kept writing in the eerie quiet of the van. Haechan was bouncing his leg up-and-down at a mile a minute, thoroughly annoyed by Jeno’s delay. Mark was dozing in his seat, trying not to fantasize about you and the fucking heaven between your thighs, but he couldn’t help but watch you jotting down your feelings, your grievances, your hopes and your dreams.

He prayed that he was part of the latter.

The silence broke when the van door opened loudly, followed by a disheveled Jeno stumbling inside. “Goddamn, I am getting so much pussy on this trip,” he huffed, running a hand through his overgrown and severely damaged blond hair.

“Jeno, I swear to god,” you barked, scratching out the compliment you had given him at the top of the page. “If you give me an STD this summer, I will set your drums on fire.”

“You would destroy my child?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Jeno grumbled something under his breath about how you always rained on his parade of pussy and shut the doors. “Let’s get on the road,” he said irritably, shooing Haechan out of the driver’s seat and jerking the van in gear.

“We’ve been waiting for you, dumbass,” Haechan sniped. He’d been getting so annoyed and impatient he threatened to leave the bastard drummer behind and never look back. That bitch can walk, he’d declared moments before.

Mark stayed quiet in the passenger seat, sluggish with sleep. He looked to you again, watching you write in your journal and wondering what you were saying about him.

About all of them.

Jeno drove fast, but not a soul complained. The gig in Chicago was the most highly-anticipated of the trip.

The van hurtled down the highway, not stopping for several hours until you begged for a bathroom. After a quick gas station run, you put some fresh snacks into the cabinet and wrangled your hair into a bun on your head.

Jeno came in with a bag in hand and said, “I bought more condoms.”

“Good for you,” you deadpanned, wrinkling your nose.

“Although I heard Mark didn’t have to wear one,” Jeno added, tsking his tongue. “One of the few perks of being innocent and pure, I guess.”

Your voice was razor sharp. “Careful, Jeno.”

Both pleased and annoyed by your tone, Jeno asked roughly, “Did you at least remember to get your birth control?”

You wanted to shoot daggers into his face with your eyes, but refusing to afford him any looks was better. “Yeah. I got my Depo shot two days before we left.”

“How long does it last?”

“Three months.”

Jeno smiled wryly. “Well, isn’t that convenient.”

“That’s the whole point,” you mumbled. He was trying to get a reaction out of you, prodding at your buttons, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

There was a pause. “I’m ready when you are,” Jeno flirted, wiggling his brows at you.

“Who said I even wanna screw you?”

“You did. Many, many times.”

True, but no longer relevant. All things considered. You returned to your notebook and said, “That was before you became a penis petri dish of death and disease.”

“Ouch.”

My relationship with Jeno could best be described as rivalry. He never gave an inch and neither did I. It was my job to keep him humble.

And damn, what a full-time thankless job that was.

Jeno had been going out of his way to rile you up after your night with Mark. He couldn’t stand seeing you sulky. Mark’s pouting was beyond remedy, but yours could be managed with well-placed jabs.

He had you down to a science. Lighting a fire under your ass was all Jeno knew how to do. The more he prodded at you, the more flames escaped. And when you were angry, you couldn’t be sad.

Because there was nothing Jeno hated more than seeing you cry.

“Can you try to stay on beat this time?” Jeno chided, spinning a drumstick nimbly between his fingers.

Having been testing the microphone, you whipped around and snapped, “Fuck you, Jeno.”

An argument swiftly ensued, petty and heated. No surprises there. Mark and Haechan stood with their guitars and watched the back and forth with no end in sight, even as people poured into the club.

“Those two are going to kill each other,” Mark said under his breath.

Haechan scoffed. “Or make a ton of babies.”

Mark almost choked on the lump that shot into his throat.

You stomped over to Haechan, pointed at Jeno and said, “I can’t deal with this douche canoe anymore!”

To which Jeno shot back, “Just shut up and sing, ice crotch!”

Your eyes went wide with rage and you spun in Jeno’s direction, ready and willing to claw out his eyes. Haechan grabbed you by the arm and steered you back over to the microphone, officially sapped of all patience.

“In ten seconds, me and Mark are going to start playing,” he said hurriedly. “And both of you are going to look like losers if you’re not ready.”

You huffed a swear or two under your breath and gripped the microphone as Mark and Haechan got into position. Then you heard the tapping of drumsticks behind you followed by the roar of Mark’s electric guitar.

By the time the show was over, you were utterly exhausted. Between Haechan and Mark, your arms draped across their shoulders, the three of you sang tiredly along to one of your songs as the boys essentially dragged you down the hall toward the back door for some well-earned sleep.

Turning the corner, you saw Jeno with two beautiful blondes. You bristled with annoyance. They were giggling at every little thing he said like they were getting dick after, which you quickly realized was the case.

Not on my watch.

“Let it go,” Haechan said, but he knew it would make no difference.

Jeno did not deserve pussy after how badly he stressed you out. You wriggled out of Haechan and Mark’s arms and made a beeline for the drummer.

“Oh my god,” you said in a loud, obnoxious voice, greeting the girls as you cuddled up to Jeno and patted his chest. “You guys look so cute! But unfortunately, Jeno is only halfway through his chlamydia treatment.”

Wide-eyed, the girls looked at you in horror before sending vengeful expressions at Jeno, who set his jaw and bristled with anger.

You held your hand beside your mouth, pretending to whisper a secret, “Very contagious through bodily fluids.”

The pair of blondes scurried off. One of them gave Jeno the finger.

“I hate and despise you,” Jeno hissed, trudging down the corridor.

You were hot on his heels, ready to resume the argument from earlier. A moniker like Ice Crotch was not going to be forgotten. “Haven’t you had enough threesomes?”

“There’s no such thing as too many threesomes,” Jeno replied, heated. “And I’ve only had four.”

Haechan asked curiously, “You keep track?”

Jeno snorted. “Don’t you?”

“One is easy to remember. I wasn’t into it.”

Mark fell in line beside them and said, more so to himself, “I have questions.”

“I don’t,” you spoke up, backhanding Jeno’s burly arm to get his attention. “Jeno, you’ve got pussy brain and you fucked up the tempo.”

Jeno went quiet, which was the last thing you expected.

Everyone was tired and raw. We were a well-oiled machine, steaming ahead like a freight train, but with time, gears start to grind. When gears grind, they tear through flesh and bone.

I know my boys. It sounds cliche, and I agree, but I know them. We’ve been friends for so long and crossed hundreds of lines of intimacy reserved for soulmates. They can’t hide anything from me.

Especially the things they intentionally try to hide from me.

You knew you had struck a nerve, but you weren’t sure which one. You dug your heels in regardless, but you were miffed when Jeno said nothing and made for the door.

“Did he just storm off?” Mark questioned, equally bemused.

“He never does that,” Haechan said softly, turning to you.

You didn’t hesitate to stomp after him, and Mark and Haechan didn’t follow this time. When fire fought with fire, it was best to keep a distance to avoid getting burned.

The cold of Chicago’s night was bitter on your cheeks when you stepped outside and you pulled your jacket tightly round you. Jeno hadn’t jumped into the van yet. He was lingering in the lot, scraping his shoes across the asphalt as he puffed on a cigarette.

Closing the distance, you called, “The hell is going on with you?”

“Nothing,” he replied, avoiding your eyes and blowing out smoke.

“You’re out of sync and you’re acting weird.”

Jeno narrowed his eyes at you. “We were all out of sync tonight. Why am I the only one getting called out on it?”

As usual, no matter how angry he made you, your first instinct when things were too tense was to smooth his feathers. His surface was rough, but at his core, Jeno was tender. You brushed your hand down his arm and said sweetly, “Because you’re the rock…”

"We’re all built on," was going to be the end of that sentence. Unfortunately, I never got to say it.

Jeno cut you off. “I don’t want to be your rock,” he lashed out, hissing your name. “Don’t you feel pathetic leaning on me all the time?”

You recoiled like you’d been slapped and that was when you noticed his eyes. They didn’t belong to the Jeno you knew, but to the monster that stole his mind and would eventually give him back by morning.

Wrapping your arms around yourself in comfort, suddenly much colder than before, your breath pillared into the night like the smoke from his mouth when you whispered, “I didn’t. Until you said that.”

Jeno blinked, realizing too late that he’d hurt you.

That was the thing about me and Jeno. We both thought the other to be fearless and unbreakable, but also knew who we were at each other’s cores. I was his mirror image and he was mine. The broken kids; the kids that just wanted to be loved. The pair everyone knew to be demons, but never stopped to think how we became them.

The fallen angels.

Anger faded from his face in an instant. “I didn’t mean it,” Jeno started, flicking away the cigarette and reaching for you.

You stepped back, not wanting to be touched. “You’re at your most honest when you’re high, baby,” you said sternly, fixing him with a look that rooted Jeno in place. “Don’t lie to me now.”

Jeno swallowed the lump in his throat. How could you always see right through him?

You wiped the tear that spilled down your cheek and escaped into the van, your safe place, your little haven. Jeno ran a hand down his face and cursed, “Fuck,” for hitting you where it hurt.

The rest of the night was tense and awkward, only slacking when sleep took hold. Everyone was painfully exhausted. Chicago had exceeded expectations and pushed all limits. The show was insane. The energy was incredible. I would remember that performance for the rest of my life.

Me and the boys may have been a little out of sync, but each of us gave it our all. We left nothing on the floor and held nothing back.

Haechan curled around you in the bed, keeping you warm. You claimed the bed together more often than not. Mark slept like a vampire, on his back on the floor with his arms at his sides. It was the weirdest thing you’d ever seen, but it worked for him somehow. He slept like a baby, the whistle of his snores filling the van.

Jeno sat in the driver’s seat, looking up at the stars, exhaling the smoke from a joint. He was wide awake, couldn’t sleep. An unfortunate side-effect of the shit he took to get high. The marijuana wasn’t simmering him down as hoped. He’d probably stay up all night and sleep the day away.

Glancing over his shoulder, seeing your pretty face made him smile. You looked even cuter when you slept, but it was frustrating as hell.

No one else noticed he was high but you. Did you really know him that well?

Of course she does, Jeno thought. You were his better half. That’s how it worked. He could never escape you. There was a point of no return when it came to intimacy. Not so long ago, you and Jeno soared past that point. Two reckless teenagers, young and wild, that found all their highs and lows with each other.

Jeno propped his legs up on the dash and closed his eyes, watching the memories like a movie in his head. Mark shredded the electric as if his life was on the line; probably to vent his sexual frustration. Haechan was a whirlwind of energy despite playing that boring ass bass. And you, beautiful you… Mark wasn’t kidding when he said you were a god on stage.

Chicago delivered on the show, but not the after-party. Instead of drinking and fucking the night away, Jeno was in the stuffy van watching the stars go by when he wasn’t stealing glances of you. He wanted to be in your arms, needed you to kiss him and tell him everything would be okay.

You were the fix he craved most of all.

In the time it took him to blink, dawn broke. The sun shone across Jeno’s face. He lifted a hand, shielding his eyes. He grumbled a little and turned in the seat to get comfortable, cursing at the awkward angle his back was in.

Your hand touched his shoulder gently and Jeno lurched in surprise, peering up at you. He’d never looked so weary and drained, but you could see the animal was gone from his eyes. “You’ve been up all night?” Your voice rang with compassion, and Jeno felt utterly undeserving.

He nodded, his eyes fluttering closed, unable to keep them open any longer.

You tugged at him, getting Jeno to his feet and ushering him to the bed, where he basically collapsed onto the mattress. Mark and Haechan were up, crawling around in search of coffee like a pair of zombies. Meanwhile, you let Jeno situate and draped the blanket over him, tucking him in, and brushed some of his hair back from his face.

Jeno took your hand and laced his fingers through yours. “Tell me you love me,” he said in barely a whisper.

“I love you,” you replied without hesitation, bringing his hand to your lips and kissing his knuckles. You stayed propped over him, wanting to be close so you could be sure he finally drifted off. You left a chaste kiss on his brow and coaxed, “Go to sleep, baby.”

Mark turned away. It wasn’t jealousy he felt, just longing. Seeing you so gentle with someone you were viciously fighting with the night before made him want you more. No matter what was said and done, there was too much love in this cramped little van.

When Jeno’s breathing leveled out and his hand went slack in yours, you finally relaxed. You’d be damned if he went days without sleep. There wasn’t much you could do, but the boys had their limits and you did your best to make sure they weren’t crossed.

Without another word, you clambered into the driver’s seat and turned the key, driving out of the club parking lot and onto the main road. You found a shopping center where Mark and Haechan could run errands while Jeno was out, and you pulled in.

Jeno slept well into the afternoon, stirring when the smell of hot food filled the van. Haechan used some of the gig money to splurge on delicious Chinese takeout.

You pulled out a foldable table from behind the cabinet and stood it up on the floor. The four of you sat around it and ate in silence, stuffing your faces until your bellies were full. You and Haechan gabbed a little, but not much. Mark and Jeno didn’t mutter a single word, both of them stuck in their feelings.

A far cry from how they would be that night.

One last show in Chicago. You were back on the same stage as before. It was the first time the band would perform an additional night at a club.

Jeno and Mark were squabbling, which was a rare enough sight to see. The two generally didn’t like to fuck with each other. It always resulted in fists flying and both were surprisingly really good at scrapping.

You looked to Haechan and rolled your eyes. Your best friend was smiling, on the verge of a laugh.

“We’re doing the third set,” Jeno said firmly.

“She can’t,” Mark replied, anger rising. “Her voice is fried from last night. The third set could knock it out for weeks and we’ll have no singer.”

Jeno shrugged. “She can take it.”

You were thoroughly annoyed. “She’s standing right here,” you spoke up, folding your arms. The audacity they had. It made you bristle, because you knew it had nothing to do with your voice and had everything to do with your body.

“What do you want to do?” Mark asked, softening his voice for you.

Jeno cut in, “Don’t ask her. You have to push her.”

You shot him a nasty scowl. “Stop pushing me.”

“Or what?” He smirked.

You shivered with irritation crossing dangerously toward rage.

“I don’t think you can do the third set,” Jeno said, challenging you, his smirk deepening. “Prove me wrong.”

“I’m not falling for that reverse psychology bullshit.”

“Coward.”

A smug look washed over your face as you hissed, “Don’t you feel pathetic leaning on me?”

The smile fell off Jeno’s lips. “I said I was sorry.”

“Don’t bother. I don’t care,” you snapped, but you definitely cared. The wound was still fresh and stung.

Haechan tilted his head when you looked at him. He was always your anchor in the rough seas of Mark and the violent winds of Jeno. “I’m with you, whatever you choose,” he said.

If I ever walked off that stage, my boys would follow. No questions asked. They would follow me into hell and back. Though the four of us would probably just live there indefinitely.

You straightened your shoulders and your tone left no room for argument. “We’re doing the third set.”

Jeno beamed victoriously. Haechan nodded. Mark gave a look mixed between concern and awestruck.

You sang until you were spent; brutally, wholly, and everything in between. Your legs felt like jelly when you walked off stage and your chest ached, lungs taut. The adrenaline, like a performance-enhancing drug, had run its course and you were officially on empty.

It wasn’t unlike you to push yourself to the absolute limit. You loved the stage. You worshiped the power that surged from your voice when you sang into the mic. Pipes for days, Haechan always said.

The dressing room was a sight for sore eyes. You dropped heavily onto one of the sofas and let your head fall back, closing your eyes. Your throat felt like you’d swallowed razors.

“Try not to talk,” Haechan said, holding up his hand when you shot him an irritated look. “I’m not telling you to be quiet. I’m suggesting you let your voice rest.”

You nodded and sunk back into the sofa again.

Mark was vibrating, the energy of the show still pulsing through him. Brimming with energy (the excess turning into courage), he walked over to you and bent down, pressing a lingering kiss to your brow.

You smiled, knowing it was Mark without opening your eyes.

Jeno finally deigned to grace the rest of you with his presence, bursting into the dressing room and exclaiming, “Holy shit, you killed it!”

“And this is where you take all the credit,” you rasped, wincing at the sound of your own voice.

“I’ll wait till you go to bed and then I’ll take all the credit.”

You lifted your head and narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t you have some ass to chase?”

Jeno licked his lips. “Nah. I only got eyes for you right now.”

“Pluck them out for all I care.”

“You wanna fuck me so bad you look stupid.”

You waved him away, settling down and closing your eyes again, and wheezed, “Have fun with your hand.”

Haechan sat beside you, picking up your legs and draping them over his lap. “I’ve never seen you so mad at him.”

“He just doesn’t stop,” you huffed. “You know when to leave me alone. Mark never pushes my buttons. Jeno just keeps fucking digging.”

Haechan chuckled. “That’s all he knows how to do.”

“Whatever.” You shrugged, feigning indifference.

Mark suddenly asked, “Do you love him?”

You sighed. “I love all three of you. He’s definitely my least favorite though.”

Mark gleamed proudly at Jeno, who scowled back.

“So, if we were drowning, who would you save first?” Haechan asked mischievously.

“Mark. Obviously.”

Mark’s grin widened, while Haechan gasped and put a hand over his heart like it was the ultimate betrayal.

“You can swim,” you said, patting Haechan’s arm over your legs. You opened your eyes and gave Jeno a vicious sneer. “Jeno’s the only one drowning.”

Jeno’s lips squared into a frown.

“What’s that mean?” Mark asked curiously, but Haechan stayed silent. He knew.

“Leave it,” Jeno warned, darker than ever.

The three of you did. Unlike Jeno, you knew when to quit.

Some people did drugs. Others did rock music. A few did both.

The boys dispersed momentarily. You were relieved when the dressing room was empty, leaving you to your thoughts and the searing pain in your vocal chords. Rubbing at your eyes, smearing your makeup, you didn’t hear someone come back in as you muttered to yourself, “God, my throat fucking hurts.”

“It’s probably raw as shit,” Jeno said, making you jolt. And roll your eyes. He cleared his throat and switched his tone to add, “Speaking of raw…”

“No.”

“You let Mark in raw,” he whined loudly.

You cut him a glare. “I wouldn’t let you raw me if you were the last man on earth.”

Jeno pouted. “Ow.”

With a scoff, you decided to turn the tables on him. “Why are you so hard for me the past few days? I can’t even brush my teeth without you humping the air around me.”

There was no shame to be found in Jeno. “I haven’t had you in weeks,” he groaned.

Your lips parted in surprise. “You’ve had every other girl in the country.”

“It’s not the same.”

You stood and crept close to him, close enough to ghost your lips over his mouth. Jeno went boneless, every inch of him fixated to you and what you would do next. He wanted you so bad he couldn’t see straight. So, you decided to yank the metaphorical rug out from under him, sniping, “You’re pathetic.”

“Are you really going to hold that against me forever?” Jeno asked, tensing.

No. It was just easier to be mad at him. That was the only way I could have some defense against the power he had over me.

“I’ll make you a deal,” you said, sliding your hands over his shoulders and winding your fingers into his hair. “Answer one question for me and I’ll forgive you.”

Jeno was one more breath away from kissing you. He knew it was a trap. You were luring him in and he was happy to swallow the bait. “Fine,” he replied in a husky voice, eyes on your lips. “Ask your damn question.”

“What are you taking?”

“What do you mean?”

You hardened your gaze on him and tugged on his hair. “Don’t play that with me. I know better.”

Jeno studied you a moment. You would keep yanking this thread until it unraveled. He pushed, you pulled. The two of you could play tug-of-war with each other’s heartstrings forever. Jeno decided it was better to rip the bandage off and get it over with it.

He reached to the back pocket of his jeans, pulled out a bag, and handed it out to you.

You took a split-second look at the bag and your jaw dropped, your arms falling as you snatched it quickly. “Cocaine? Are you fucking kidding me, Jeno?”

Jeno stole the bag back in the time it took you to blink, returning it to the safety of his pocket. “We’re supposed to do drugs,” he defended, rather unconvincingly. “We’re rockstars.”

“We’re teenagers that just graduated high school with barely enough cash for fuel and chips!”

“How I spend my cut of the money is my business,” Jeno shot back.

“This isn’t about the money.” You folded your arms, scolding him like a mother would a child; oscillating between angry and worried. “You know how dangerous that shit is.”

Jeno shifted his approach too, ever your mirror. “It’s the only way I can perform, babe. If I don’t have it, I can’t focus and I get too nervous.”

You softened even more, like Jeno knew you would. “We can get you something else,” you said gently. “Something better. Safer.”

He scoffed. “With our gas and chips money?”

You sighed, accepting a temporary defeat, but you pressed, “You’re doing it to get high. Not to concentrate.”

Jeno went slack, equally defeated, and reached for your waist. “I’m just trying to have a good time. We know this won’t last. We’re going nowhere.”

You lowered your head. “I know.”

The summer was half over and we hadn’t been scouted. Hope was replaced with disappointment and eventually, disappointment would flip to resentment. We never put it into words, but it was like a cloud following us, day and night.

Jeno took your face in his hands and tipped your chin up until you met his eyes. “Let me have this summer,” he whispered sadly. “Mark got you. I got this.”

Something inside you broke a little.

Yes, when the summer was over, you were Mark’s.

But the summer wasn’t over.

Jeno smiled in surprise when he felt the warmth of your lips on his, but he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you and deepen the kiss. Feeling the heat of your body against his was what he’d been craving, wanting you to burn him alive.

My first instinct always was to comfort him. I would chip away at myself and give him every piece if it meant he could use them to stitch his wounds.

Believe it or not, Jeno was my first love, but a first love at fifteen means nothing in the grand scheme of things. He was my first everything, but we just didn’t work. No matter how hard we tried. There was a mad and intense connection between us, inseverable, but in the confines of a relationship, we were wild animals forced together in a cage.

I know few will understand us. Hell, even I don’t understand how I could have so much passion and fire for someone that stretched me thin and forever kept me at the brink of insanity.

But I was beyond questioning it.

Jeno slipped his tongue in your mouth and you grabbed his hips, pulling him flush against you. His kisses were surpassing hungry and landing somewhere near ravenous. The intensity must have scared him, because Jeno suddenly parted from you and took a step back.

You rubbed your lips bashfully, not realizing you were panting until it was the only sound in the quiet dressing room. And Jeno was breathing just as heavily.

“What’s wrong?”

Jeno shook his head. “I want you so bad.”

You snickered. Here you were on a silver platter and he was the one that put distance between you.

Though you opened your mouth to say something snarky, Jeno spoke up, “But you’re going to leave me.”

Your heart sank. It dawned on you; this summer was the end to a lot of things. Youth was ending. The band was ending and with it, all of your dreams.

And the tie between me and Jeno would have to finally be severed so my life with Mark could start.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured. You didn’t want to think about Jeno and his broken heart. Or that the drugs you scolded him over were what he used to fill the void you left behind.

Jeno respected the hell out of you for having the strength to leave him. He never could walk away from you even though he knew it was for the best. You would spend your whole life trying to fix him while he would always use you as a crutch.

It wasn’t fair to either you or him.

“Mark is good for you,” Jeno said in barely a whisper, his eyes glistening.

You shook your head. “I don’t want to talk about Mark.”

Jeno swallowed the lump in his throat. Seeing his pain reflected back at him on your face was too much. “Get high with me.”

Your eyes went wide. “Why?”

“You’re my person,” he said, vulnerable. “The only one I’ve ever wanted to do it with.”

This was what you struggled to put into words - the hold this boy had on you. He was bottomless ocean depths.

“It’s always you and me. We do everything together,” Jeno continued, reaching for your hand and leaving a kiss on your knuckles.

You let him pull you back into his arms and asked, “What if I die?”

“I’ll bring you back,” he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to your brow that completely melted you.

“What if you die?”

“Let me go.”

Your eyes suddenly shone with the threat of tears. “Never.”

Jeno leaned into you, stealing a kiss from your lips. “Just this once, babe.”

You paused, thinking it over. Everything inside you screamed, “Yes!” Jeno never failed to bring this side out of you - the reckless, starved one that didn’t give a damn about consequences. You always feared if that was the real you, the true you. “Just this once,” you said quietly, closing your eyes as Jeno sealed his lips to yours again.

The idea of getting high reached out to you with gentle, caressing fingertips, promising to banish the pain and numb the hurt.

Tearing himself away from you once more, Jeno walked over to the door and locked it.

Yet another first time with Jeno to add to my list.

You were caught off-guard at how fast the high kicked in and never before had you noticed how tense your body was until it wasn’t anymore. Your mind was even lighter. There was no more torment. You could feel that it was there, but it didn’t ache any longer.

The sensation was indescribable. You were whole, perfect, immortal and invincible all at once.

And that was how you found yourself on the couch with Jeno, pawing at each other like animals in heat.

“Jeno?”

“I know.”

You sucked in a breath as he nipped at your neck and asked weakly, “Am I going crazy?”

“Babe,” he said, meeting your eyes with a smirk. “You been crazy.”

You laughed and the sound was music to Jeno’s ears, making his smile widen.

Time blurred together. It could have been the next day or the next year for all you cared. All you knew was this moment with Jeno and how it lasted a lifetime.

You sank deeper into the sofa beneath Jeno’s weight. Your thighs were hooked on his hips, hands roaming his taut, muscly back. Both your shirt and his tee were somewhere on the floor, along with your bra.

Jeno kept grinding into you, each movement rougher than the last. “Fuck,” he swore, lips brushing your ear. “I just know you’re getting so fucking wet right now.”

He wasn’t wrong.

A wanton noise of pleasure escaped you and Jeno ate it up. You were burning by a thousand degrees, it was almost painful. You had never craved someone’s body on such a primal level before.

With Mark, it was love, but this? This was lust running wild with abandon.

The doorknob wiggled. You didn’t hear it over the loud thumping in your ears and neither did Jeno, who was far too busy bruising your neck whilst he kneaded your breasts, pinching your nipples to make you squirm. Haechan didn’t need to try the knob again to know what was going on. He turned to Mark, who was coming down the hall, and led him away.

“They’re working out their issues. Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said hurriedly. Mark hesitated, but didn’t argue. He was none the wiser. With the way you and Jeno had been at each other’s throats, it never crossed his mind that you would fuck him.

Meanwhile, you were discovering new uncharted levels of arousal, undulating beneath Jeno, trying to match his movements, which were getting faster and harder. The drugs in your system made everything feel more intense, all-consuming. There was no tension, no insecurity, just instinct and pleasure.

Jeno was definitely waiting for you to give him the green light, and you were enjoying keeping it from him, but the throbbing between your legs was unbearable.

You planted your hands on his thick chest and pushed, making Jeno prop over you and look into your face. “Wanna fuck now?” you asked sheepishly.

His pupils dilated. “I thought you’d never ask.”

You whined when Jeno clambered off of you, standing next to the sofa and unfastening his pants. Before he drew them down his thighs, he pulled condoms from his pocket and dropped them on your lap.

“Two?” You snorted. “My lucky day.”

“One for each girl. You know, the ones you chased away from me.”

Licking your lips as his hard cock sprang into view, you grabbed him by the hips and purred, “I called first dibs on that dick years ago.”

Jeno chuckled, but his expression changed on a dime when you leaned in. He watched you drag your lips over his abs, kissing and nibbling along his happy trail. His breaths stuttered as he said, “Whenever you want it, it’s all yours.”

You peeked up at him hotly. “I want it now.”

While Jeno fitted himself with a condom, you shimmied out of your pants and underwear, and the moment they were on the floor, you turned onto your knees, braced yourself on the arm of the sofa, and arched your back, sticking your ass in the air.

He wouldn’t be able to resist it for a second.

“Fuck you,” Jeno hissed, getting into position behind you and raking his cock between your folds, gathering your slick from tip to base.

You wiggled your hips. Your brain was clouded with lust and drugs, and something purely hungry for Jeno. Like he was your favorite meal. “Gimme it,” you huffed, glancing over your shoulder. “What the fuck is taking so long?”

Jeno gave your ass a smack, making you squeak. “You need to calm down,” he chided with a grin, still sliding his length between your slit. He was so riled up his hips jerked against you involuntarily.

You reached between your legs, getting a hand around his dick and steering it into your aching pussy. Jeno let you, biting his lip and smirking at how goddamn horny you were for him.

The head of his cock pressed into your entrance and you grasped the arm of the sofa with both hands as Jeno began thrusting forward, working himself inside until he impaled you on every last inch of his girthy cock. You buried your face in the couch, biting down on the stressed leather.

Jeno gripped your waist tight and drew you to him until he was balls deep in your tight heat, feeling your walls stretch and flutter around his length. The drugs amplified everything about you; your warmth, your scent, your sounds. He barely noticed the condom at all.

When he drew back and shoved his cock back into your cunt, you lifted your head and cried, “Fuck!”

“You’re so wet,” Jeno growled, sinking in and out to hear your slick pussy welcoming him back.

You whimpered. “Fuck you and that big dick,” you mumbled, but you didn’t mean a word of it. You weren’t sure how much you could blame the drugs anymore. You wanted him to plow the living shit out of you until there was nothing left.

Jeno took that personally. As a challenge more than anything. He squeezed your waist in his hands and smacked his hips into your ass, driving his cock into your core and giving you something to really whine about.

It was all you could do not to scream as he took you for all you were worth. You fisted the couch in your hands until your knuckles ached and you threw yourself back to meet his strokes, a noise escaping on your hoarse throat with every rushed breath. Sex was a drug all its own. It just felt too damn good.

Jeno kept his hard pace, making sure he landed flush against your heat every time, and brushed his hands up your body to wrap them around your throat and tip your head back. “Yeah, that’s my good slut,” he taunted, the smack of his body colliding with yours getting louder. “She’s taking all that dick, huh?”

The sounds you made were humiliating, but they only made Jeno harder. His grip on your neck had you slack-jawed, your eyes winched closed. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him!

It wasn’t fair that he had that kind of power over my body. With him, I felt desired and powerful, and between that - untainted. Unbroken. Jeno never saw me for the damaged goods that I was. To him, I was always perfect. He completed me. No matter how unhealthy it was, I wanted it.

I didn’t need drugs. Jeno’s love was my high.

“Don’t stop,” you choked out, his hands heavy on your strained vocal chords. “Don’t ever stop...”

Loving me. Though the words wouldn’t come, Jeno knew them.

“Never, baby,” Jeno said, releasing your throat in favor of your waist, draping himself over you and burying his face in your neck. His hands wandered your breasts as he plunged in as far as he could go and stopped, leaving a few scattered, reassuring kisses across your shoulders.

Your body trembled when he bottomed out, aching with need and overstimulation. You swallowed to wet your throat, panting for air, and asked, “Why are you…?”

“You’re so fucking high, baby,” Jeno crooned, touching you gently and affectionately. “Just trust me.”

He was right. You were high on drugs and his body. You were a nerve laid bare, every brush of his hands enough to make you shiver. Your body pulsated, like you were being dangled over the edge, the pressure becoming too much to bear.

You held yourself up on hands and knees, tortured by the fact he was no longer moving inside you, but his hands playing with your breasts and his lips on your neck had your attention. The stimulation was sending more shudders across your skin, making you lean into his touch as your core throbbed for him.

“Part of you will always be mine,” Jeno whispered into your neck. “I know you’ll pick him over me, but part of you will always miss me.”

You tensed with unshed tears and cried, “I know.”

“I need you to know it’s okay,” Jeno said, turning your head and kissing you with so much pain and pleasure it knocked the wind out of you.

You kissed him back, reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair. It was a cruel curse - to love someone so deeply that was bad for you.

Jeno broke the kiss and rocked gently into you, staying in deep and lilting his cock inside your walls, the head of him kissing your cervix. Normally, you would have pushed at his hips for some mercy, but the high made you impervious to pain.

Suddenly, he thrust in hard but slow, arching his hips. You staggered out a moan and reached out to steady yourself, almost knocked off balance by his strength.

He did it again and again.

Tears pricked at your eyes. Jeno was hitting you with those drawn-out, domineering strokes, making you feel every inch of him slam against your sweet spot. He may have agreed to never hold you choosing Mark over him against you, but he was going to give you one final reminder of how absolute his control of your body was.

“I’m coming,” you warned, his name a mantra on your tongue as you took all he had to give. You were grateful for the roar of music coming from the other side of the wall, drowning out your cries and Jeno’s moans.

Jeno fisted a hand in your hair while the other still tugged and rolled your nipples. He kept his pace, hips slapping into your ass at a perfect rhythm, knowing you were on the edge of orgasm with the way your walls clamped down on his cock.

“Fuck!” Another brutal thrust sent you into ecstasy. You shook and swore, trying to crawl away from him, but Jeno was on you, shoving you into the couch and riding out your high.

“Good girl,” Jeno hissed, watching you writhe beneath him. He went still and tipped his head back, letting out a tiny moan.

You blinked to clear your eyes. You could feel the bruises forming in your skin as Jeno pinned you to the couch. It only turned you on more. When you realized he was still hard, that he hadn’t come, you mumbled under your breath. He was supposed to finish with you.

Jeno’s eyes flickered. Another moan escaped him as you rolled your hips, desperate for friction. He drifted his hands to your hair, gathering it all in his fists.

You sat up and went to work, fucking him as best you could in your position. Despite the condom, your pussy wanted to milk every drop of cum out of his dick. Post-nut clarity hadn’t set in. Either the drugs or the orgasm made you even more feral for this dumb boy.

“Oh, fuck,” Jeno groaned, watching you throw it back, bouncing your ass on him, taking him like a fucking champ. His abs tightened as he tried not to pound the fuck out of you. Instead, he reeled his hand back and slapped your ass, goading you.

“Come for me, baby,” you said darkly, the room echoing with the loud, wet clap of your bodies meeting.

Jeno growled a low curse in this throat. Suddenly he was on the edge, driven by your command and that tight fucking cunt.

You shrieked in surprise when he flipped you over roughly, the sound devolving into a moan when he steered his cock back into your pussy, grabbed your waist, and drilled into you like he would never get the chance again.

He didn’t last long at that pace. Jeno threw his head back and came, one moan after another tumbling from his pretty mouth, each one more ragged than the last as he emptied himself into the condom.

You brushed your hands over his thighs and hips, whispering little nothings as he came, feeling him shake like a leaf as he buried himself inside you. Once Jeno settled down, you touched his chest and asked, “Holy shit. Are you okay?”

“I’m good,” he wheezed, voice cracking, all the air knocked out of him.

Biting your lip to fight a laugh, you failed to hide the smug grin taking over your face.

“Don’t,” Jeno said weakly, rubbing at his eyes.

“You just came so hard you cried,” you teased, pinching his nipple for good measure.

“Don’t make fun of me.”

Feeling him about to pull out, you reached for his waist and held him there, joking, “I will remember this, forever and ever, and I will bring it up every time you get on my nerves.”

“You’re the worst.” He sobered, leaning in close. “And you’re the best I've ever had.”

You smiled as he kissed you, sealing his words on your lips. Then you giggled as his mouth traveled over your chest, sucking on a nipple. Your buds were still stiff and Jeno couldn’t resist.

“I see how easy it is to get addicted,” you said when Jeno got up to discard the condom. “That shit is intense.”

“Told you.”

Sitting up, you ran your hands through your messy hair. You could only imagine how you looked; makeup smeared, glistening with sweat. “You know you have to stop,” you told him, making your voice gentle.

Jeno afforded you no looks. “Eventually.”

You were too tired to argue, sore and spent in the best ways. When Jeno returned to the couch, you welcomed him with open arms, pulling him close and steering him to lay his head on your naked chest. You stroked your fingers through his hair and over his broad shoulders, and whispered, “I’ll never let you die, Jeno.”

He stayed quiet.

“You’re not allowed to leave me.”

“Stalker.”

You snorted back a laugh. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.” Jeno lifted his head and nuzzled your cheek, teasing, “I just think it’s cute how obsessed you are with me.”

You kept touching him. His skin was just so hot beneath your fingertips, like caressing an open flame. “Are you really okay with dying?” you asked after a moment.

Jeno shrugged. “It’s unavoidable. I don’t see the point in sweating over it.” As he spoke, Jeno kissed at your neck slowly, curious if he could get you riled up again.

Your lashes fluttered and you shifted underneath him. Though he left you more than satisfied, the longer he kissed over your pulse and palmed your breasts, the quicker the ache in your core came back, ready to be filled up again.

Jeno reached down to cup your sex, running his finger over your swollen clit and swearing under his breath when he felt your soaked entrance, thinking how easily he could slide right back in and make you feel good. Both of you.

“If you died,” you stammered, struggling to form words as he touched you. “I don’t think I would ever smile again.”

Jeno was caught off-guard. He stopped pawing at you to look in your eyes, wondering if you realized just how heavy a thing that was to say. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” he told you innocently, kissing the corner of your mouth with affection.

It was the first time you’d seen him so serious. Not hiding behind his usual humor.

Jeno was surprised when you pushed him away and reached for your pants on the floor. He watched curiously as you rifled through your pocket and withdrew a balled-up piece of paper and handed it to him.

“For the memoir?”

You nodded, watching him unfurl the page, your heart thumping harshly in your chest. “Yeah, I’m constantly jotting stuff down.”

Jeno’s eyes drifted over your words.

I can’t stand him. He infuriates me. He makes me crazy. But Jeno is the one person that knows me - the good and the bad, and accepts them both.

I love my boys, but he’s the one I don’t think I could ever live without.

Jeno peered at you with glassy eyes, shining with tears. “Damn it,” he groaned, crashing his lips on yours.

As expected, you made use of that second condom.

Jeno hooked your legs in the crooks of his arms and thrust languidly, staring down at you. Your eyes never parted as he gave you release once more, knowing when the summer was over, he would never get to touch you again.

When all was said and done, the two of you slumped into opposite sides of the sofa, soaked with sweat. Once you caught your breath and Jeno returned from tossing the condom, it was your turn to clamber on top of him, using his chest as your pillow. You rested your head on his shoulder and traced senseless patterns over his collarbone with your fingertips.

Jeno said your name. “I want you to be happy. That’s all I want, but I know I can’t give it to you. I tried.”

You closed your eyes. It would keep the tears at bay. “I know.”

“I feel sorry for you, loving all three of us. It can’t be easy.”

“It’s what I was made for,” you said softly, tightening your arms around him, lest he fly away from you and never return.

Jeno changed subjects before it broke him. “I’ve never felt so self-aware of how it feels to be young. And how it doesn’t last long.”

You nodded slightly. “This time is precious.”

“I wouldn’t say precious. Definitely fun though.”

You snickered, relieved to hear his humor coming back, but a somber feeling rushed over you. “Do you think we’ll ever get tired of it?”

“Of what?”

“The performing, the fucking, and… the drugs.”

Jeno paused. “You mean each other.”

You sighed tersely. There was no hiding it from him.

My biggest fear was that my boys would hate me. That I would be a bitter reminder of what could have been, how close we were to our dreams before crash landing back on earth, broken and bruised forever from the fall.

Jeno brushed his fingers up and down your back, and kissed the top of your head. “I don’t think we’ll resent each other if this fails, babe,” he said in a low voice. Some things just aren’t meant to be, he thought sadly. Like you and me.

“If that happened, I think I would die,” you whimpered, burrowing your face in his chest.

“Don’t talk like that,” Jeno said, running his hand mischievously over your thigh. “But stop being so afraid of death. You’ll waste your life running from something that is going to catch you no matter what.”

You tipped your head back to kiss him. “I just know the devil dreads meeting us. We’ll steal his throne.”

Jeno kissed you back hotly. “Hell yeah. I can’t wait to fuck you on it.”

You laughed.

Hard to steal something that already belongs to you, Jeno.

Copyright 2020-2024 © yutaholic (formerly zenyukhei) All rights reserved do not copy or translate without my permission!

#nct #nct smut #jeno #jeno smut #nct dream smut #jeno x reader

[bump1nthen1ght]

A Very Monstrous Kinktober: Day 13 (Size Difference)

Kink: Size Difference

Pairing: Male!Dragon x GN!Reader

Other kinks: Sex toys, Doggy Style, Creampie

Warnings: N/A

Word count: 1400 words

Kinktober Masterlist

A/N: As you can tell I went a little hog wild with this one lol, hence why it's longer than the others. Hope y'all enjoy!

You clench your jaw, eyes scrunching closed. But the dildo didn’t hurt, no, it felt good. This was the first time you had successfully taken the 10 inch toy to to the very end without having to tap out, the thick girth of it often leaving your burned, and not in a good way.

Your hole was extra sensitive already, Abzu’s admirable skills with a vibrator bringing you to orgasm twice in just the last hour. But the pressure isn’t overstimulating, but intoxicating. It twists up your insides into an unkempt mess, has your fingers digging themselves into your blankets,

You’re ready.

You tap the bed 2 times, the nonverbal signal for Abzu to stop. He does, quickly taking out the dildo and crawling up your side. He looms over you, the bed creaking as places his excess weight on it.

“I’m sorry, love. Are you okay?”

You shake your head no, but quickly turn to Abzu once you hear him gasp. “No! No, I’m fine, baby. It’s just…” You wet your lips, throat suddenly feeling very dry. “I didn’t want to cum on it. I think-” you take another breath. “I wanna cum on your cock.”

Abzu’s eyes go wide, pupils dilating as an unintentional purr rumbles in his chest. If it were possible for his scales to get any redder, they would be.

“A-are you sure?” Abzu croaks, trying not to seem too eager. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. I’m ready.” You wiggle your hips, “I know it.”

Abzu stutters out an ‘okay’, so bashful for a dragonoid twice your size.

He gently readjusts himselfs and slides backward, running a scaled hand down the length of your back. He’s always been very cautious in how he touched you, very aware of his strength and build. It was sweet, seeing how much he held back for your sake, seeing him hold back his whines and love bites as to not appear too desperate, too animalistic.

He had never been able to fuck you with his cock. You had attempted cockwarming, but even as you got used to his size just resting inside of you, he always seemed restless and on edge. It was almost good, but no quite there.

But practice makes perfect. And tonight, you’ll both be rewarded for your hard work and diligence.

An industrial sized thing of lube sits on the nightstand, Abzu squirting a handful and rubbing it along his cock. With plenty of ribs and bumps and a thickness resembling a soda can, it looked like a daring sex toy in itself. Attached to the sweetest, most gentle lover ever however, it rarely got to be put to use.

Until now.

The head of Abzu’s dick is hot, even slathered with cool lube and precum. Just the touch of it against your entrance has you shivering, hips wiggling with anticipation. A hot wave of breath blows across the back of your neck, Abzu leaning forward and resting a free hand by your head to steady himself. From your peripheral you can see his claws beginning to furl into the sheets, his palm almost the size of your head.

“Okay, I’m gonna put it in now.” Abzu whispers, slit now felt up against your tight hole. You nod, forcefully relaxing your lower half and trying to sink into the sensations. With something so big, you often had to remind your own body that this wasn’t something to run from.

Like the dildo, Abzu slowly pushes inside you. You can feel his heavy breathing, hear the rumbling purr in his chest as he slowly sinks into you. His other hand moves by your face, his large body completely shadowing yours.

You exhale slowly, reminding yourself that you took a dildo around this size easily not too long ago. But gods, did this feel way better.

“Fuck.” Abzu whispers to himself, that filthy mouth only coming out when he was really horny. “You f-feel really good.”

“So do you.” You purr, eyes crossing as he finally reaches the end, hips hitting your ass. “Please fuck me, baby. I want it, I need it.”

You can see the hot steamy breath as Abzu exhales, right in front of your face as he settles into his position. He had chosen to lean forward due to your difference in height; if he sat up like in traditional doggy style, you’re sure his cock would by lifting you off the bed, have you dangling like a cocksleeve.

Not that you’d mind, but Abzu always liked to play it safe.

Abzu humps into you gently, only pulling out an inch before sinking back in. You throw your hips back again, getting a choked moan from your lover,

“Faster, I can take it.”

Abzu nods, mind too preoccupied for words, and begins thrusting at a moderate pace. Even so it's still enough to rock the bed, headboard slamming against the wall as Abzu throws his weight into your tight backside. Your groans, muffled by the blanket underneath you, are no less erotic as each hit stretches you out further than you thought possible. The ribbing of his cock dragging down your walls in delicious ways.

“By the gods.” Abzu moans, claws cutting through the duvet cover. “It’s so tight.” Stars shoot behind your eyes when he Abzu gives a particular hard thrust, already beginning to lose himself in pleasure. “I’m gonna go faster. Is that okay?”

You give a thumbs up, finally collected enough to take your face out of the blankets and look forward. Just in time for Abzu to begin bettering your pussy with a fervor. Now the headboard cracks against the walls like thunder, the bed springs squeaking like pigs as the whole bed itself rocks across the floor. Sparks of pure lightning shoot up your spine and deep into your core. Theres a wet thwap as Abzu’s hips hit your sopping hole, already soaked with precum.

“Oh gods, Abzu!” You moan, eyes nearly crossing. But you refuse to close them, not when you can see a perfect underview of Abzu’s coiled up face; Biting his lip, drool beginning to spill down his jaw, those desperate eyes peer back at you, watching his own cock fuck you open.

“You’re f-fucking incredible.” Abzu snarls, eyes darting to how easily his dick disappears inside. “Taking it all, like a good mate.”

Abzu breaks eye contact to moan again, clenching his brow down. You can hear the bedposts scratching lined into the hardwood, pictures on the wall rattling nearly their supports. He’s gotten to the point where he can pull his dick all the way out to the tip and plunging it back in, making your toes curl.

“Your cock is incredible.” You stutter, the stoking climax scrambling your brain. “I’m obsessed, I don’t think I could ever go back to toys.” Your hos jerk, spasming walls milking Abzu. He snarls again, fangs biting down onto his bottom lip. “Fuck! It feels so good!”

A numbness is spreading down your legs, like when your limbs fall asleep. But this time the buzzing is more like tiny shockwaves, sending earthquakes across each cell. You’re close, hole sucking Abzu in and trying to get him there too.

“Please cum in me.” You pant, looking up at Abzu. “I wanna be filled up, baby. Take it all.”

“Fuck yeah.” Abzu reaches up and grabs the headboard, easily cracking it under his grip. He doesn’t mind the way the wall knocks against his knuckles, lesbing a fist shaped imprint. “I’m gonna drain my balls in you.”

You nod in desperation, climax peaking. With your hips rolling over his dick, it doesn’t take Abzu long to finish after. The cacophony of skin hitting skin and you're slowly-breaking bed is overshadowed by Abzu’s ferocious roar as he cums inside you, hot jets of cum quickly filling you to the brim. Squirts leak in between his cock as he rides out a 20 second orgasm, no doubt ruining the duvet beneath.

Abzu pants above you, impressively holding himself up as to not crush you as he catches his breath. You have no such problem, letting your body sink into the mattress as your muscles finally give out.

Abzu sinks to the side, cock still inside you, cum steadily drizzling out of your hole. Those large hands rub your lower back, his gentle purr rumbling your sore muscles.

#my writing #reader insert #monster x reader #gender neutral reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #dragon x reader #dragons

[2kiran]

“HANDS ON YOUR KNEES, I’M COLONEL KÖNIG.”

pairing könig x reader genre smut reader is taller than könig and a male. dom!reader x sub!könig cw lowercase typing. established relationship. google translated german. pet names. office sex. cockwarming. teasing. orgasm delay. humiliation kink. handjob. slight spanking.

könig’s too impatient to wait for you to finish your work.

two knocks meet your door before it opens, könig’s the one in the doorway. you only glanced at him once before continuing to fill in the information for your files. “liebling.” (darling) he called.

you hummed questioningly. you wanted to finish your work as soon as possible without any distractions, but you couldn’t tell your boyfriend that. he gradually stalked closer to you until he was in front of you and your desk. “liebling...?” (darling) he tried again. “yeah, sweetheart?” you held in your frustration before it got into your tone, you’ve been sitting here doing paperwork for hours.

“i...” he hesitated, and just went behind your desk to you instead. he gripped your shoulder and gazed down at you with pleading eyes, you only noticed now the tent in his pants. “könig, you know i got work to do, right? let me finish this first.” you slightly furrowed your brows. he frowned underneath his hood in response. “i won’t distract you.” he promises. “please?”

you sigh, “what do you have in mind?” his eyes sparkled in excitement, “i want to... uh.” you could tell that he was blushing furiously by the way he couldn’t hold eye contact with you. “can i... uh, i wanna cockwarm you.” your eyes widened in surprise, you didn’t know he could be into that type of thing. nonetheless, you agreed.

it’s been about 15 minutes since, könig was now situated on your cock. he was facing away from you, watching your hands write away. he was squirming, thighs slightly shaking in anticipation. he griiiinds down on you, eliciting a gasp from himself and a low groan from you. “stay still.” he sighs contentedly, “please work faster.”

you don’t, making him wait longer than he should. you were nearly done, but you worked slower. he realized that and clenched around you, “stop teasing.” you chuckle, “i’m not.” he pouted at your response. “you only have two more items to fill in. do it alre– nngh.” you pulled back as far as you could on your chair, and thrusted up into him. “what was that?” you tease. he pouts at you. “c’moooon.” he begged. he felt every vein of your length and he could feel the way it throbbed inside of him. his eyes were glossy and the tips of his ears burned. he ached so much that it was nearly painful.

you give in and immediately write down what was needed before grabbing könig’s waist. “you’re so needy.” he whines at that. “just fuck me already. bitte, mein schatz.” (please, my sweetheart) you obliged with his request, making the both of you stand up and you bend him over your desk. you pull out, then you suddenly thrust into him. he moans loudly, biting down on his mask to muffle his sounds. “god, colonel.” you pant, “who knew you could be this desperate?” you thrust harshly to punctuate each word. his sounds were growing louder by the second and you were only beginning.

“awh, you’re already close?” you laugh breathlessly when he whimpers, “you made me wait for so long.” he complains. “you won’t cum until i say so.” you drag your cock against his walls, “scheiße, b-but i– hah... was being good.” (fuck) he pushes back against you, “you were trying to distract me. that doesn’t count as being good, does it?” you grind on his ass. “that’s n-not fair. you were teasing me.” you slap his ass, causing him to gasp. “s-scheiße! wofür war das?” (f-fuck! what was that for?)

“don’t say that wasn’t,” slap. “fair,” slap. “you knew really well,” slap. “that i had to,” slap. “complete paperwork.” slap. “and now look at you,” slap. “begging to cum on my cock in my office.” his ass was now becoming a bright red, “what will they think when they find out that the great colonel könig could be reduced to such a mess?” you rub over the spot, soothing the stings. “m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry.” he cries. “i’ll be good for you.” beads of precum formed from his slit, dripping down his shaft. you wrap your hand around his cock, pumping it up and down. you continue thrusting inside of him. “ah... feel s’ good.” he moans.

you give his collarbone open mouthed kisses, your warmth lingering on his body. you thumb over his slit, spreading around his wetness. it was easier to move your hand on him now. the sounds of skin against skin destroying the silence. you knew that he was holding in, holding onto the edge of euphoria. “you can let go, könig.” that was all he needed to cum all over your hand.

he whined as you continued your movements to get him through it. you abruptly stopped. “are you okay, love?” you ask, pulling out of his empty hole. “mhm. you didn’t finish.” he stared at you over his shoulder, “that’s okay.” but your cock said the opposite, still hard and leaking. könig reached around and grabbed your cock, stroking it. you gasp at the sudden friction. “you don’t have to do that.” though, you did nothing to stop him. you were quite close anyway. “komm bitte in mich hinein.” (please cum in me) right as you reach your orgasm, könig lined you up to his hole, making you spill your cum inside of him.

some of it got out, dripping down from his fluttering hole. neither of you cared about the mess, still recovering from your climaxes. he suddenly spoke, “i want more of you.”

masterlist

#— azrael.worksᵎᵎ #➷ ┊antonio’s works ! #könig #call of duty #male reader #tall reader #dom reader #sub character #colonel könig #könig call of duty #cod mwii #cod mw x reader #mw2 #mw2 fanfic #konig mw2 #mw2 2022 #cod smut #smut #established relationship #teasing #spankbank #masterlist

[voltronisanobsession]

There is no End | Luke Castellan x Reader

A little idea I had, needed to right something angsty and toxic 😍💀

“Let go of me, Luke!”

You stumbled and tried pulling your arm away from the blonde boy who continued yanking you forward. The bruising grip Luke had on your arm did not deter you from trying to escape.

You thought he only wanted to talk. Maybe apologize for everything he had done. As anxious as you were to meet up with the boy, you did nonetheless.

Why? Because he’s your boyfriend. Or was, at least. Never did you imagine the kind boy you once knew to drag you away from the camp grounds kicking and screaming.

“Luke, I’m serious! Let me go!” Your voice trembled with rage and fear.

You were far from camp, you knew that. But you didn’t know that you were so close to home too. You looked at the house in front of you, anxiety shooting up as you recognized it as your own.

How did you guys manage to travel out of state so quickly? And how were you home??

It was all too confusing for you. You were cold, upset, and scared. You wondered if anyone at camp noticed your absence yet.

“LUKE STOP!”

At last, it seemed the boy finally heard you after all your previous attempts. He stopped suddenly, causing you to crash into his side. You yanked your arm away and was surprised when he let go.

You stepped away from him, eyes tracing his blank face carefully. You knew if you ran, he’d easily catch you. Your eyes traveled down to the sword strapped around his waist.

Who knew, maybe he’d use that sword against you too. What was it called again? Backbiter?

Luke’s eyes stared off into the distance. It was like he wasn’t even mentally there in the moment. He had changed so much, you noticed.

He looked older, in a way. His face, no longer soft and sweet, was hardened from the past years of intense fighting. You knew he’d seen and been through so much since he had left camp.

His once bright blue eyes were now dull in shine. He looked towards you, eyes narrowed as he turned his body to you.

“Join the army.” Your jaw almost dropped in shock.

You stepped back agin. He stepped forward.

“You seriously kidnapped me from camp, take me to my home, just to tell me to join your army? Is this a joke?”

Luke’s face twisted in anger. He took one large step and stood no more than a foot a part from you.

“No, it’s not. Join our army, and I promise you won’t get hurt when the war happens.”

Hurt? War? You realized in the moment that this was more dangerous than you anticipated.

“Why should I join your army, Luke? If you forgot, I still remember how you betrayed us. Betrayed me.” You scoffed out, arms crossing in defiance. You weren’t going to let Luke have his way.

“Betrayed you? I’m doing this for us. For everyone who was betrayed by the gods. You should feel betrayed by them.”

Luke was now so close that you could feel the warmth radiating from the skin on his arms. He was angry and you knew it. Luke never got angry before.

“When have the gods and goddesses ever been there for you, huh? Your father? Why do you take their side when the only thing they’ve done is screw you and everyone else over?”

You stared up at him in shock. Was he really trying to use your father against you? You knew what he was trying to do, you knew it.

“Luke-“

“No! Tell me, when was the last time Apollo said happy birthday to you? Actually, tell me when was the last time you’ve even seen him?”

Your face scrunched up in hurt, your body trying to back away from Luke’s, only for him to wrap his hands around your biceps, stopping you from getting away. You gasped from the squeezing pain.

“He doesn’t care about you, y/n. None of the Olympians do. Why are you fighting for immortals that don’t even care if you live or die?”

Your eyes watered up with unshed tears. His presence was becoming too much for you. Was he going to kill you if you didn’t join? Oh gods, you were going to die.

“No one cares about you. You don’t matter to anyone. Not even your own mother-“

“Stop it, Luke! Don’t say that!” Your lips wobbled as you spoke, the tears welling up in your eyes and slowly falling down your cheeks.

“It’s true, though. You want to see how much you matter to her? Don’t worry, I’ll show you.”

Your heart leaped to your throat as the blonde boy began dragging you to the house you once lived in. Panicking, you began your game of tug and war against him again, but you weren’t as strong as he was.

“No, no Luke please! Don’t do this, please!” You sobbed out as Luke continued pulling you closer and closer to the house.

Once close enough, he shot you a look as if to say quiet, making you immediately stop babbling out nonsense.

You were hysterical at this point, your face red from your crying and sobbing. Your body shook as you tried and failed miserably to stop your cries. You continued crying even as Luke pulled you up to a ground level window of the house.

Luke grabbed your jaw to keep you from turning away from the window, forcing you to look into the house.

“Look Y/N. I said look.”

You sobbed as you did what he wanted. It had been exactly 5 years since you’ve last seen your mother. 5 years since she left you at camp and never came back. All the memories came flooding back immediately as you stared at the woman you loved so dearly.

She sat on a chair reading a book, the same way she always did when you were younger. The house looked the same way it did when she took you to camp all those years ago. Except something was different.

You began crying all over again, broken sobs escaping your body as you saw two small children run over to her.

“No, no, no.”

You gasped for air as the woman in front of you put down her book and picked up the young children, placing them on her lap as she smiled gently at them.

Your pulled away from the window, away from the house, and back into the darkness where you first began.

You didn’t even register Luke pulling you close to him, his arms engulfing you in a hug. The boy whispered sweet nothings to you as you slowly calmed down from your hysteria.

You sniffled softly as Luke’s whispers filled the silence of the night.

Your arms slowly wrapped around Luke’s body, head leaning against his chest.

“There is no end, Y/N. I told you, they don’t care about you. They never did.”

You sniffled again as your eyes stung with tears again. He didn’t need to remind you again. The boy then kissed your head, still hugging you as you got a hold of yourself.

“But I care, Y/N. I care so much for you. That’s why I want you to join me. So you don’t have to be alone again. I promise I’ll never leave you like your parents did.”

And you couldn’t help but believe him. The sincerity in his voice was hard to miss. The way he held you was the same way he held you all that time ago, when you were younger.

He promised he wouldn’t leave you. Your hands clenched around his shirt. You took a deep breath and unclenched your hands.

“Ok.”

Luke pulled away and held your face, eyes staring straight into yours. These blue eyes were the same ones you remembered staring into when you were at camp.

“Promise me you won’t leave.”

He gently kisses your forehead, wiping away your stray tears with gentle hands.

“I promise.”

You never returned to camp after that night, leaving many of the campers to worry and wonder what had happened to you. Little did they know that you had signed a deal with the worst monster imaginable, after he promised you he would never leave you alone.

#luke castellan x reader #pjo x Reader #Percy jackson x Reader #Luke castellan x you #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo headcanons #Luke castellan #pjo luke #x reader #Percy jackson and the Olympians #percy jackson headcanon #luke pjo #headcanons

[lov1ngdrysdale]

could you write something where Jamie’s teammates chirp him for you having hickeys🫣🫣

vampire ✧.* jd9

pairings: jamie drysdale x fem!reader

summary: jamie's teammates bug him after an eventful evening with you.

warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT !!! oral (m. receiving)

a/n: this sucks IM SORRY. not proofread yet !!!

"sheesh drysdale, have some fun last night?" cam inquires mockingly as jamie takes off his compression shirt.

some of the guys thought cam's comment was funny enough to chime in themselves.

"you dating a vampire dude?"

"does that not...i don't know...hurt?"

"someone got a little victory present, huh drysdale?"

"dude, you're never living this down."

jamie looks down at his chest and abdomen and turns red. the memories of last night come flooding back to him.

• • •

you push jamie onto the hotel bed and crawl towards where he's sat. he opens his legs wide enough for you to climb between them. one of your hands rests on his chest, while the other cups his square jaw. you pepper kisses all across his face and onto his lips. shortly, you move down his neck to your favorite part of jamie's body: his chest. jamie's hand snakes around your waist and slides down to your ass, giving it a few soft squeezes.

as much as you wanted jamie to scoop you up and slip you underneath him, it was his night. the flyers had just won an incredibly close game, and jamie had the overtime goal. it was his night.

giving your boyfriend your undivided attention, you start to suck on the tender skin of his pecs. he hisses when you sneakily bite the skin, but replaces that sound with quiet moans when you lick the sensitive spot.

you make a path of love marks trailing from his left pec to his right, winding from one side of his abs, to the other, and all the way down to his bulge. needless to say, this took a lot longer than you'd anticipated, but after seeing the end result you were quite pleased with your work.

jamie lays back between the pillows like an angel. his soft skin glistened from the thin sheet of sweat he'd earned from trying to remain calm as you nicked and sucked at his sensitive skin. he's left in his red plaid boxers that you'd recently gifted him.

"god, y/n. looks so sexy, but hurts like a bitch." jamie reaches to his side, swiping a finger across the raw skin and quickly pulls away.

"not done yet jam. was so proud of you tonight, want to show you just how proud i am. so lucky to be your girl."

jamie's head lulls farther back into the pillows at the sound of your voice and your words. you help him pull the boxers down, and his throbbing cock springs upright.

you do not hesitate to take it into your hand, giving it a few pumps before bringing it to your lips. to slightly tease jamie, you press your lips to the tip and kitty-lick it. you wrap your lips around the tip and swirl your tongue around it. jamie brings a leg up into a hinge and thrusts his groin towards your mouth, encouraging you to take his full length.

obeying your boyfriend, you press a kiss on his right thigh and slide his dick all the way into your mouth. you don't stop until you can feel the base of his cock on your lips. jamie whines as you take him. you begin to guide your mouth up and down his member, going at a steady pace.

you look through your eyelashes up towards jamie and he is in a state of pure ecstasy. his eyes are squeezed shut as one hand rests on the back of your head, the other over his mouth. he muffles his moans as best as possible to not concern the hotel neighbors.

"fuck angel, feels so good. so close y/n."

you quicken your pace and feel jamie's body begin to go limp. his knee falls and his hands both rise to grasp your hair. he's guiding your mouth as he rides out his orgasm. you take his warm cum letting it coat your throat.

jamie's catching his breath as you swallow his cum and get up from the bottom of the bed. you crawl up to jamie's chest and rest your head on it. he's still breathing quite heavily, and the layer of sweat only thickened while you pleasured him.

you run a hand through his sleek hair and plant a kiss to his cheek.

"I love you so much jamie", you blurt out.

"I love you so much more angel. thank you for tonight", jamie says as he runs his hand across your back, it is soothing.

"you made me so proud tonight babe, I love being yours." you look up at jamie and he gives you a wide, toothy smile--your favorite.

jamie places a kiss on the top of your head and looks down at his chest once more, "the guys are gonna chirp the fuck outta me tomorrow."

you laugh at his distress and innocently ask, "so...should i not do this again?"

he's quick to answer you, "absolutely not, it's worth it. but shit, cam is gonna never leave me alone."

"well at least you have a girlfriend." you roll your eyes at jamie; sometimes you're not sure if you're dating jamie or if cam is.

#lov1ngdrysdale #hockey fanfiction #jamie drysdale #nhl players #jamie drysdale x reader #flyers hockey #jamie drysdale x you #jamie drysdale blurb #jamie drysdale smut #philadelphia flyers #jack hughes #luke hughes #nico hischier

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Hwang Hyunjin x F!Reader & Lee Felix x F!Reader TW : For Hyunjin : reader has a broken leg ; reader gets hit by a passenger van ; mentions of blood ; Hyunjin isn't really an asshole, he's just upset ; it's really fluffy at the end though ; For Felix : reader gets stabbed ; reader is in the hospital ; reader gets stitches ; Word Count : For Hyunjin : 2.9k For Felix : 5.8k (In total 8.7k) Request : @slayhyunjin wants the Hyunlix version of this and that is what they will get!! A/N : I hope you enjoy this and I'm sorry for making you wait so long for it : ' (( WENT ALL IN ON THE FELIX ONE! PLEASE ENJOY!!!

Hyunjin

He was on a mini tour, at least, that’s what you called it when he had to perform concerts closer to home. He was still gone, but he was in the country and it meant that he’d be home sooner which was always exciting. It was the one thing, the only thing you loved about when he went away… The moment he’d come back and it was like he had been gone for an eternity instead of just a couple months. 

You loved surprising him when he came home too, saving up all the money you made at your work to buy him little things to add to his art room. New paint sets, a new canvas, new sketch pads and pencils. Anything that would make him happy, and he always got excited over the smallest things, but seeing the way his eyes would sparkle when he saw the new materials on his desk made the wait for him worth it. 

This particular trip you had saved up enough money to buy him a brand new watercolor paint set, something that you knew he had his eyes on for a while. Luckily the art store was only a couple blocks away and you enjoyed the walk from the apartment to the shop, always stopping by the little cafe on your way there to get an iced americano, it made you feel closer to him when drinking his favorite drink and picking up his favorite things. 

Spring time was your favorite time to walk, the scents of fresh flowers blooming and new leaves budding on the trees. It also meant the occasional rain that you were always prepared for, your umbrella hanging from your wrist as you walked along fairly busy sidewalks. 

You had been in the store when it started raining, and you were planning on waiting it out close to the entrance like everyone else was, but this particular storm decided to last much longer than you had planned, so you ventured out. It’s not that the rain bothered you, it was more so that you didn’t want the set that you had bought to be potentially ruined. 

It was crazy how things can go from being so perfect so fucked in a matter of seconds. First you’re walking across the street because the crosswalk light tells you it’s okay, and the next you’re being hit by a passenger van that didn’t even have the common decency to stop and make sure you were okay. At least they didn’t continue straight through and just completely run you over. They had simply gone over your leg which was still excruciatingly painful, but it definitely could have been worse. 

Now, a lot of people might be wondering, why not call Hyunjin and let him know what happened?! And while it’s a very good question, you knew how he was. God, his heart was so big, his love for you was so strong, he’d try to get home to you so fast that he’d probably make the journey on foot if there wasn’t a flight that would get him to the nearest airport available right then and there. Not just that, but he’d stop at nothing to find whoever it was that hurt you, he’d track them down to the ends of the planet just to yell at them for hurting his love. 

He was busy, you didn’t want to bother him with the silly little accident, and what was important was the fact that somehow, by some miracle, the watercolor set had survived. After going to the hospital and getting your leg casted up and making sure that nothing else was broken during the accident, you got to go back home and place the set in the center of his desk with the giant bow on it, anticipating the moment that he finally came home and saw it. 

What you realized while trying to perfectly set up the watercolor set and make it look pretty was that it was a pain in the ass to try to walk on your cast, although the doctor had already strongly advised you not to do that… You thought that it was just a general thing he had to say to everyone. No wonder they were so hell bent on making sure you had someone at home to help you around the house the first couple of days. You couldn’t do shit. 

A surprise visit home, that’s what he was planning. He had been talking to the guys about it for a solid week, and now it was the day. He stood at the front door, taking a deep breath before letting himself in, only to be met with the apartment in such a state of disarray that he had to do a double take to make sure he was heading into the right apartment. 

Following the double take he saw you on the couch, that’s how he was 100% sure he was at the right place, but it didn’t make any sense. There were bowls of food and empty cups and take-out bags everywhere around you, and you were just laying on the couch all cozied up like you didn’t care. When he first met you, you were so organized, so clean, and not to the point of needing everything to be absolutely perfect but you surely weren’t like this. Maybe it was an act, and maybe the house looked like this every time he went on tour. The only reason it looked so clean when he came back all the other times was because he had told you he was coming. 

“It’s… It’s such a mess…” He muttered to himself as he stepped deeper into the apartment, his heart sinking as he thought about how he almost left Kkami in your care. “There’s just… Mess everywhere…” He continued to talk to himself as he continued to look around. It looked like there hadn’t been any sort of cleaning done in weeks. This is the house that he lived in… He just couldn’t believe it. 

You had been sleeping so soundly, but he tripped over one of your crutches, causing it to fall over and hit the floor, the sudden noise causing you to jolt awake. “Hyunjin! You’re home! You wouldn’t believe the week I had.” You said, your smile bright as you looked at him over the back of the couch. How could you still be so cheerful when surrounded by such filth? You must be used to it… But he wasn’t. He couldn’t live like this, and he surely couldn’t be with someone who regularly lived like this, who pretended to be someone they clearly weren’t when around him. 

“I was just leaving.” He rushed the words out as he walked back towards the door. “I can’t be here… It’s just… Disgusting… I have to go.” He excused as he quickly walked out, accidentally slamming the door behind him. That was the irony of it though, the fact that your crutches had been the item that he tripped on, yet his mind had been so fogged by the filth that he didn’t even think to question what they were doing there. He didn’t even second guess their presence considering everything else looked so out of place. 

Truthfully, he wasn’t even mad… He was just upset. The person that he saw today in his apartment was not the person that he had fallen in love with, and surely not the person that he imagined a future with. It’s not that he expected you to be his maid while he was working either, he knew that you worked, you were just as busy a person as he was, but he just thought that maybe you’d want the house to be kept a little clean… That’s the type of person you made it seem like you were… He was upset that he had been wrong. 

Your blanket had somehow managed to get wrapped around you while you were napping on the couch, it made it impossible to kick it off in time for you to get up or for him to even see the cast around your leg. Of course, it would have been nice if he would have just let you explain, but you could understand his irritation. 

As you looked around the house, you finally took in just how unsightly it was. It looked like there had been parties going on since he left and you hadn’t cleaned up after any of them. It was disgusting, you hated it, and you yourself would have been just as upset if you walked into your house and seen it looking like this. 

“Shit…. Shit!” You hissed, unwrapping yourself from the blanket before trying to get up. It hurt, but nothing would hurt worse than Hyunjin leaving you, so you dealt with it, gritting your teeth to muffle your cries of pain as you started to clean up, trying your best to shift the weight off your bad leg, but it was almost impossible considering the mess that you had to avoid to get to the garbage can. 

You weren’t even sure how so much shit had accumulated, but there were pizza boxes stacked up on the coffee table beside the carry–out bags, and there were the discarded plastic bags piling around you from when you’d get out the shower and just rip them off and place them to the side, promising yourself that you’d throw them away later. 

Damp towels laid on the floor beside the dirty clothes hamper, towels from when you’d pull them from off your head, tossing them and hoping they’d make it in only for them to land everywhere but where you wanted. Again, you had promised to get to it, but you never had. It truly was disgusting, and even though your leg felt like it was on the verge of falling off right now just from walking on it, it shouldn’t be an excuse for how disgusting the house had gotten. 

Aside from walking… Everything else was also a pain in the ass. You couldn’t bend over to grab things off the floor, although you were trying your best, but the gravitational pull of the earth had different ideas and you ended up falling face first to the floor, managing to bust your lip and bloody your nose in the process. It wasn’t bad enough that everything was a mess, but now you were just as bad off as the apartment. 

What’s worse is that you couldn’t even get up. There was nothing close enough to give you the leverage that you needed, and your good leg was in just about as much pain as the broken one from you trying to catch your fall and landing right on your knee. Your phone was somewhere amongst the pile of garbage on the coffee table and you couldn’t even crawl over there to get it, you were left on the floor, and you felt that that’s where you belonged, alongside all the garbage that you had created. 

Hyunjin was quick to realize that he had been wrong… Not about you, but about the situation. Not as quick as he wished he had been, but he was back at the dorms and he couldn’t stop beating himself up about the way he had left you. He hadn’t been rude, not exactly, not the way other people would have been… But he wasn’t exactly nice either. 

He had gone back to the dorms, and the rest of the guys were still back at the hotel in the city they had just performed in. He felt more lonely than ever and he knew that he needed to talk to you to apologize for the way he had been acting, so he texted you. He would have gone back to the apartment, but he was so nervous about how you’d react to him suddenly showing back up that he felt it would be better if he just texted you first to ask if he could come back. 

There was no response, and that made sense… Obviously you’d be mad at him for walking out the way he did… And now he was playing back those moments in his head, the moments that led up to him walking out… And he couldn’t stop thinking about the crutches that he had tripped over. Why were they even there? They hadn’t been there when he left… But if something had happened to you that would require you to need them… You would have told him about it… Right? 

But what if you hadn’t told him about it… And something really bad happened… And that’s why you weren’t answering his texts. He hoped that wasn’t what was wrong… For the first time since being with you he was hoping that you were just mad at him and ignoring him. At least in that case you would still be okay. That didn’t stop him from panicking though. He called a cab and waited impatiently outside for them to pull up, not even waiting for the car to come to a complete stop before climbing in the back and giving the driver the address. 

As soon as he got to the building he ran up the stairs, bursting through the front door and it felt like he was about to die, his heart breaking when he saw you laying in the middle of the floor. You looked absolutely lifeless, a puddle of blood on the floor next to your face, and the cast that wrapped from your foot up to your mid thigh explained everything. “Help… Please…” Your voice weakly called from the middle of the floor, and the only reason any sound of relief came from his lips is because you weren’t dead. 

“I’m here…” He whimpered, already crying as he rushed over to you and helped you off the floor, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist to help support you as walked you back over to the couch. “I’m so sorry for leaving you, my love… I didn’t even wait to hear your reason… I just left…” He was full of shame and guilt as he looked at you, the blood that had trickled from your nose now dried on your upper lip and your bottom lip busted open from where it hit the floor. “One second… let me get something…” 

He rushed off the couch and to the kitchen, grabbing a towel and soaking it in cold water before running back and lightly wiping away the blood. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have let it get this bad. I would have been the same way… It just hurt so bad to walk and… I hate the crutches, they hurt my arms and… I’m sorry.” You mumbled, and he quickly pulled you into a hug, lightly pushing against the back of your head to muffle your words against his shoulder. 

“I don’t care about the apartment, love… I care about you.” He whispered, repeatedly kissing the top of your head as he said the words. “Now… Tell me what happened… Please.” 

You were right… Hyunjin had gone from crying profusely when he heard about the accident, his head shaking as he apologized over and over for not being there for you, although you repeatedly told him that you were the one that didn’t tell him. As soon as the tears stopped flowing though, he was angry, angry at the driver who so carelessly injured and could have potentially stolen away his love. He was so angry in fact, that he planned on having management go to every store with a security camera and demand the footage from the day that it happened so they could track down the person who did it. 

After he had calmed down as much as he could, he called the guys to let them all know he wouldn’t be able to come back for the rest of the concerts, explaining to them that you needed him more than they did, and no, you couldn’t get him to change his mind, and none of the guys tried to get him to change his mind either. You were now stuck with a slightly overbearing and overly apologetic Hyunjin who didn’t leave your side at all. 

“Why were you walking around down that way though? Your work isn’t down there…” He mused one evening, still unable to get over what had happened and trying his best to piece it all together although you had explained everything to him. You sighed softly, suggesting for him to check the art room, and he gently moved your leg from off his lap as he ran to the room, his squeal of excitement loud enough for not only you, but probably the neighbors on all sides of you to hear as well. “You almost got killed to get me this?!” He called from the room, and you giggled lightly. 

“It’s the one you wanted, right?” You called back, as he came out from around the corner of the door, tears in his eyes as he clutched the box against his chest, his head nodding fast in response to your question. “Then it was worth it… I’m glad you like it, babe.” 

“I don’t deserve your love!” You cried out as he rushed back over to the couch where you were resting, leaning over the back to catch your lips in a deep kiss. “I’m gonna paint your cast and make it look so pretty… You’ll be my canvas until it gets taken off.” 

Felix

“You really can’t go with me this time?” Felix asked as he stood just off to the side of the TSA line at the airport. He had been asking the question since he found out he and the guys were going to Australia for a couple tour dates. Sadly your work schedule wouldn’t allow it to be done, and as much as you asked and practically begged for even three days off, they just couldn’t do it. You shook your head before kissing his lips softly, then doing the same to each of his cheeks, a salty taste clinging to your own lips from the tears that he had shed on the way to the airport. “I’m gonna miss you, angel… Be safe, remember to lock the doors, and look both ways before crossing the street… And don’t talk to strangers and don’t walk down alleys at night and-” 

“Lixie…” You whispered, cutting him off for the sole purpose of, you knew he was stalling. He hated leaving you, and you hated when he left, but neither of you really had a choice in the matter. “You’re gonna miss your flight…” You reminded him, and he looked down at his phone that was open to his boarding pass, his bottom lip jutted out. 

“So what if I did? Then I’d get to stay with you… Is that so bad?” He retorted and you truly wished it was that easy, but the both of you knew that it wasn’t, and the way that he said wasn’t the way that it would play out. 

“The company would be pissed at both of us… And they’d just send you out on the next flight…” You explained, although he already knew that that’s what would happen. It didn’t stop him from wishfully thinking though. “Go on… I’ll be right here waiting for you when you get back. I’ll even have a big sign with your name on it… If management lets me.” 

He chuckled, although the sound was more sad than anything else and he pulled you into his arms, squeezing you tightly as he took a deep breath of you, holding it in his lungs as if he was going to carry it with him the whole time. “Always wait for me, okay? I’ll always wait for you… I love you… I already miss you… Fuck… I have to go… I love you so much… So so much…” He continued to profess his love as he walked backwards into the line, his eyes squeezing shut every couple of seconds as tears rolled down his cheeks once more. 

Every night he’d call you before you went to work, the joys of working the evening shift, and most of the call would be him just telling you that he loves you and how much he misses you and how much he wishes you were there with him. You’d tell him that it was going to be okay, that you’d be together soon and that you loved him too. The calls usually left you both crying, and you’d have to tell him that you’d be late for work if the call continued. Then he’d call you every night after work, asking you how your day went and once again telling you that he loved you, how he wanted so badly to be laying next to you in his hotel bed, holding onto you and burying his face in your hair, the smell of your shampoo filling his nose and helping him sleep better. He needed you, and you needed him too, it was only two weeks until he came back… It would be okay. 

“It’s getting dark out, are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” Your boss asked as she stood at the door, leaning against it to hold it open for you. “I don’t mind it, I don’t want you walking out here by yourself.” 

You hummed softly, shaking your head as you walked past her, adjusting your purse on your shoulder as you paused just outside the door. “I’ll be okay, I walk home all the time. I’ll see you tomorrow, drive safely.” You said cheerfully, anticipating the call that would come from Felix as soon as you got home. 

The walk was always pleasant, the summer breeze that came with the hidden sun always felt nice when he blew around you, taking a deep breath and letting the fresh air fill your lungs… Until it didn’t. The breath that you tried to take now burned, the pain in your side wasn’t too bad, not until you tried to breath again and you couldn’t, it felt like your lungs were on fire. 

“You need to be more aware of your surroundings, angel. You could get hurt.” You remembered Felixs words from a time not too long ago when you had started to walk across the street before the traffic had even stopped, so happy just being with him that you didn’t even take the time to look around. The words rang true as you finally looked down, noticing the knife that was still plunged into your side. 

It was crazy how it didn’t start really hurting until you looked at it, and then, as if the world had been on mute for a couple minutes, all of the sound came back and you could hear bystanders screaming as they rushed over to you. “It’s okay! We’ve called an ambulance and the police! It’s okay! Just hold on!” You didn’t know who this person was, he simply caught you before you collapsed onto the ground, gently lowering you down, using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the blood from your mouth every time you opened it. The taste of copper was nauseating and you couldn’t help but retch when it would coat your tongue. “No no… Don’t do that… It’ll make it worse!” 

The knife still hadn’t been pulled out yet, and you remembered reading somewhere that if it had been pulled out immediately that you would have bled to death… But god, the pain was worse than whatever death could possibly feel like. “The ambulance is on its way! Someone caught her! They’re waiting for the police!” You could faintly hear a woman scream, but the sound of your breathing, if you could even call it that, was much louder in your ears. The rattle of your lungs and the heavy wheezing was so annoying, but sadly you couldn’t mute that sound considering it was coming from you. 

There wasn’t much that you could do, there wasn’t anything you could do really… Just laying there, listening to the rattle and the commotion and the distant sirens that you knew were coming for you. All you could do was dive into your own mind, try to think of something, anything to make this moment just a little more bearable. Felix. He was the only thing you could think of. The way his smile brightened even the darkest nights, the way he’d come back home after performing and you’d have the honor of wiping off his makeup, kissing along his cheeks as his perfect freckles reappeared from under the makeup. The way his hair would drip onto your face after a shower when he’d climb on top of you, his fingers tickling your sides as he smothered you with kisses. He was your happy place, he always would be, and even if you died right now, there was no heaven that would ever be better than the one you got to live on earth when you were with him. 

“Woman in custody after random stabbing near Yangjae-daero. Eyewitnesses say that the woman was a crazed fan, screaming that the victim “didn’t deserve to be with him.” Although the “him” in question was never specified. The victim is currently in the hospital with no update on her condition just yet…”

Bangchan shook his head as he read over the report, tossing his phone to the side and running his hands over his face. “I never thought that people would go this far. It’s ridiculous, it’s scary. We need to keep our girls safe.” He said, and Felix nodded his head in agreement, having been the first one to read the news. He hated that it was so close to your place of work, and he tried his best to call you and text you, but he was sure that right now you were being questioned by police about what you saw and heard. 

“She’s probably so scared…” Felix murmured, checking his phone once more, but there were still no texts from you. “I don’t want her walking home by herself anymore… God, what if it had been her?” And while he wasn’t even 100% sure it wasn’t you, he wanted to believe you were okay, so he did. He filled his mind with every single scenario other than the one where you were the victim. 

“Try not to worry too much, we’ll be going home tomorrow morning and you’ll be with her.” Chan said, but Felix felt it was quite hypocritical since his girlfriend had been texting him the entire time while Felix was getting nothing but silence from you. “Just try to get some sleep, okay?” 

And he tried, he tried his best, but he couldn’t get even a wink of sleep without hearing your voice before bed, so many nights spent just laying on the hotel pillow that brought him no comfort since it didn’t smell like you, but he’d hear your voice, his phone on speaker but the volume low so that if he closed his eyes it sounded like you were really right there. He needed that, he needed you to call him, he needed you. 

He wasn’t even close to falling asleep, it had been 4 hours, and the vibration from under his pillow had him rolling over onto his stomach to look at the screen that was so blinding in the darkness. You finally texted him though, he felt like he could finally breathe, at least a little bit. “Sorry for worrying you. Don’t worry, I’m fine. These cops had more questions than I thought they would.” 

“It’s okay, I just needed to be sure you’re okay. Did you get home? Make sure to lock the doors, and if you need to go to work or anywhere, text Chans or Changbins girlfriends, they’d be happy to help you.” He knew you wouldn’t though, even though you’d be much safer if you did, you hated burdening people and putting them out of the way even if it meant you’d be safe. “Try to get some rest, it’s so late. I’ll call you tomorrow. I love you.” He texted and your response came quickly, telling him that you loved him too, that you hoped he slept well and had sweet dreams, and now that he knew you were okay, he knew that he’d be okay. 

It had completely slipped his mind to let you know he was coming home the next day, he had finally gotten to sleep at 4am and he had to wake up at 6am to get to the airport by 7. A 10 hour flight, and he hoped he’d be able to sleep a little bit on the plane before he got to you, he didn’t want to be exhausted when he finally saw you. 

By the time he landed in the afternoon his stomach was full of butterflies, his smile unwavering as he thought about how it would feel to hold you in his arms again. Of course you weren’t going to be at the airport waiting for him, you didn’t know he was coming home early. Nobody knew, but after the report, all of the guys wanted to go home to be with their girlfriends, there had never been such panic felt by Felix as the guys raced through the airport to get to the cars to go to see their girls. Felix felt the same way though, and while he hated comparing his emotions to anyone else's, his panic was far greater considering you had been so close. 

Now, Felix loved a clean house as much as the next person, but he didn’t like it to be so clean that it felt like a sin to even walk across the floors. He liked things clean, but he still wanted the house to feel like it was lived in, he wanted it to feel like a home, which is why when he walked through the front door and saw your hoodie balled up on the bench instead of hung in the closet he felt nothing but warmth in his heart. It was your favorite hoodie, it was his hoodie, and seeing it on the bench meant that he’d be seeing you soon. 

At least, that’s what he thought, but when he walked further into the house he still didn’t find you, but he did find a mess. Dishes still sat in the sink, begging to be washed. Your lounge clothes were discarded carelessly on the floor in the bedroom, not even brought to the dirty clothes hamper beside the washing machine, and speaking of the washer, the clothes that were in there had gone sour from being left to sit dampened in the bin for so long. There was a very big difference between a house being lived in, and a house just being dirty, and right now, the house felt dirty. 

“Look…” He started the text, trying his best to sound as understanding as possible while also getting his point across. “I know you’ve seen some shit, but that doesn’t mean you can just let the house fall apart. I mean… Leaving dirty dishes in the sink? Leaving wet clothes in the washer? That could cause vermin… It could cause mold to build up in the washer and in the clothes. I thought you knew better… I thought you were better than that. I love you, but I’m not gonna pretend I’m not annoyed right now. I’ll stay at the dorms right now… And I’ll come back home tomorrow to help you with some stuff but… I don’t want to come back home and see the house like this. It’s kind of upsetting.”

Why didn’t you tell Felix about being stabbed… He wouldn’t have texted you that if he knew… He would be sitting in the hospital with you right now and comforting you. Well, there were a lot of reasons actually… But the main one was that you knew he’d blame himself for what happened. You thought that you’d be out of the hospital and at least able to do a little bit before he got home, you never thought he’d come back home early, and the most shocking part was the fact that all of the guys did. 

It was a miracle that you were still alive, a little bit higher and the damage would have been way worse… At least that’s what the doctor said. It was also a miracle that you were being let out of the hospital only two days after getting major lung surgery, props to the surgeons and the amazing medical equipment that’s out now. Still, it’s not like you could really do much, there was actually more that you couldn’t do rather than what you could do. You just needed to keep your activity levels at a low and then you’d be totally fine. It’s not like you were running a marathon, you were just gonna go home and clean the house so that Felix wouldn’t be disappointed in you. Perfectly fine. 

You ubered home considering the fact that Felix was annoyed with you and the last thing you needed was an apologetic clingy boyfriend to spend the entire car ride home belittling himself for saying such things to you. It’s not like he knew what happened, and it was his honest reaction, and to be fair, he had a point. Nothing he said in the text was wrong, and it wasn’t like he was vicious, he just didn’t want mice or roaches to take over and he didn’t want to deal with mold. Nobody wanted that, you didn’t want that. His annoyance was valid, and you didn’t want him to feel guilty over something he had no idea about. 

And to be quite honest, the uber driver's face was priceless when he had asked you why you were in the hospital and you nonchalantly told him you got stabbed and had to have lung surgery. If laughing wasn’t on the list of things to do, you would have cracked up, but truthfully, it was painful to laugh. Breathing in itself was still quite painful, and it was crazy how you had to retrain yourself on how to breathe so that you weren’t in as much pain. 

Walking into your home was like a breath of fresh air, except you couldn’t take that deep breath and instead you had to do a little sniff and just walking up the front stairs had you winded and you had to take a five minute breather on the couch before actually starting any chores. Crazy enough, the dishes, although they were your least favorite chore to do, they had been the easiest. There was no heavy lifting involved, there was no bending over… You finally found a reason to love doing the dishes. 

While you were working in the kitchen, you had restarted the load of laundry that had been sitting in the washer, and it was just about done thankfully. All you had to do was switch the clothes into the drier and then you’d be able to take a little break. It was supposed to be quick and easy, and for the most part it was… Until that one last fucking sock at the bottom of the basin caught your eye. Everything, every bone in your body, your mind, your heart, everything was telling you to just leave it… But you couldn’t, and you stretched over the side of the basin, and you felt the tear, but in the moment you didn’t care because you were victorious, you had got that sock and you threw it in the drier and now you could rest. 

Except you… you couldn’t rest… Because the warm trickle that ran down your side finally caught your full attention, and when you looked down at your shirt you could see the dark red stain that completely soaked through the fabric. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if you didn’t start instantly panicking… But who wouldn’t panic when their stitches from a surgery like yours busted open? And there was so much blood… So much… You started hyperventilating and that hurt even more and you ended up getting light headed and falling to the floor. You truly felt like you were dying, and you knew that you needed to get to the hospital and sure… You could have called an ambulance, you could have called Felix… But he was upset with you and now there was blood all over the floor and for some foolish reason you thought he’d be mad about that, so you called the only other person you could think of. 

Chans girlfriend was like a sister to you, and you quickly called her, and luckily she thought the same way about you and immediately picked up. You could hear the other guys in the background, you could even hear Felix… But you were more focused on the sound of Chans girlfriends voice, finding in it some will to keep from fainting at the sight of all the blood on the floor and the warmth that continued to pour down your side. “Hey, what’s going on? Do you need to be picked up from work?” She sounded so cheerful, her and Chan truly were a perfect match. 

“No… I need… Hospital… Can you take me?” You gasped out, and the silence coming from her end was deafening. If it weren’t for the sound of the other guys goofing off in the background you would have just assumed she had hung up. “Please… Bleeding… I’m bleeding… Really bad…” 

“Y-Yeah… Do you want me to bring him?” You knew exactly who she was talking about, but she was smart, she knew that there was a reason that you hadn’t called him, and whatever that reason was, you most likely didn’t want her to say his name to catch his attention… But she still wanted to be sure. 

“Just you… Please… Hurry…” You mumbled, and it felt like you had used the last bit of energy to say those four words. Your arm fell limp at your side and you didn’t even end the call, it felt like the room was fading in and out and this… this feeling… it was way worse than being stabbed initially. At least then the knife held everything in. Now it seemed like you were bleeding out and you couldn’t even breathe without getting lightheaded. It was the absolute worst. 

Chans girlfriend had rushed out of the dorms so fast, even Chan had no idea what was going on, and he had texted her non stop questioning where she went and what was wrong, but she hadn’t answered. With everything that was going on, it made him uneasy, and now Felix was the one telling him it would be okay, that is, until she walked back into the dorms. She was a completely different person, her eyes almost shell shocked, she looked like she had seen a ghost. 

“What happened?” Chan had immediately rushed over to her, and she only shook her head, and Felix could see the tears in her eyes as she looked at him and then back to Chan, motioning for him to follow her into one of the empty rooms. It’s not that Felix was nosy, but the way she had looked at him had him questioning what the hell she had seen, and why she hadn’t looked at the other guys the same way. “What?!” Everyone froze when they heard Chans scream, and then the rushed out shushes from his girlfriend. “Why didn’t she say anything?! He doesn’t know! Is she okay?! Oh fuck!” There was a panic in his voice, a certain fear that no one had ever heard from their leader before. It was concerning, but everyone was frozen in their seats, stunned into silence as they listened to the conversation, which was more like Chans screaming and his girlfriend's incomprehensible whispers. “Well I can’t just not tell him! You know how he is! For fucks sake, what if she dies?! How do you think he’d feel?! I’m telling him!” 

Everyone else pretended to go back to whatever it was they were doing beforehand once Chan came out from the room, everyone but Felix who had his eyes glued to Chan and his girlfriend who walked out behind him. They were both looking directly at him too, and it only made him more confused when they stopped right in front of him and now he was being motioned to follow them into the empty room. Why was this so secretive? 

“You should sit…” Chan started once he had gotten Felix into his room, and that only confused him more as he slowly lowered down onto Chans bed. “Do you know… Fuck… How am I even supposed to tell him this?!” He looked back to his girlfriend who was leaning against the door, sniffling so quietly that Felix hadn’t even been aware that she was crying until now. 

“Tell me what? Just say it!” Felix demanded, growing impatient with the back and forth of it all, and the urgency in their tones had him on edge and his knee was bouncing so fast that it was shaking the entire frame of the mattress. Clearly it was something important and it was meant for him… “Just spit it out!” 

“Y/N is in the hospital.” Chans girlfriend blurted out and that was the first shot, it was more like a gut punch, it was unexpected, and while it was definitely concerning… It didn’t explain what Chan had said earlier when he thought no one was listening. “She was bleeding a lot and… Her stitches from the lung surgery… They ripped and… She was trying to do the laundry I guess… There was blood everywhere and… She was unconscious when I got to the house and I called an ambulance and followed them there but they wouldn’t let me in…” 

Lung surgery… There was nothing wrong with your lungs, at least there hadn’t been when he had left for Australia. “She… She didn’t say anything… About that…” Felix stammered, his heart going a mile a minute and his mind reeling as he thought about what to do… What he could do. He felt helpless, there truly was nothing he could do right now to help you. “Why…. Why would she need lung surgery…. What happened?” 

Chans girlfriend sighed as her head fell forward, her eyes sticking to the ground now. “She was the one… From the news report…” It took a couple seconds for him to finally get it, but once it clicked, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. “She shouldn’t have been trying to do chores… Why would she do that? She’s crazy… That stuff could have waited until you got home to help her.” 

It was his fault… Everything was his fault. His legs were shaking as he got up off the bed, and he almost fell forward, he would have fallen to the floor if Chan hadn’t been there to catch him. “Hey… Hey look… There’s nothing you can do right now… Just stay here, rest… I’m sure the hospital will call when they fix things… You’re not okay right now… Just lay down.” Chan urged, pushing him back onto the bed, and he couldn’t even get up, it felt like there was a thousand pounds against his chest, holding him against the mattress. 

“It’s my fault… It’s all my fault… Mine…” Felix muttered to himself through tears, rolling over and curling up into a ball on Chans bed, violent sobs shaking his entire body. “I’m gonna lose her… I’m gonna… She’s gonna be gone… I can’t… I can’t live… Not without her… I can’t do anything… I need her, hyung… I really do…” He stammered, and the only thing Chan could do, the only thing anyone could do was try to console him, and they did their best, but he only got quiet when he cried himself to the point of exhaustion, his puffy eyes closing as his sobs turned to hiccups, then to shaky slumbered breaths. 

“Damn… I’m back here again…” You muttered as your eyes opened to the familiar white walls of the hospital room. “Wanna go home… I’m ready to go home…” And you tried to move, but a familiar, yet strangely unfamiliar pain hit your side as you tried to get up, and when you looked down, you saw the long tube protruding from your side in the exact same spot that your stitches once were. “Now what the fuck is this?” 

“Ma’am…” The doctor that had been standing in your room waiting for you to wake up finally walked over and sternly motioned for you to lay down. “Do you remember me?” Of course you did, it was the same doctor that had so happily discharged you before, and you quickly nodded your head before pointing questioningly to the lung that was poking out of your lung. “Well, you went against every single rule that was written for you to follow, and you tore your stitches, every single layer, and then during your panicked hyperventilation episode, you managed to inhale a lot of blood and now it needs to be drained.” 

“I’m sensing sarcasm…” You mumbled, falling back against the bed since you had no other choice but to lay there. “So how long do I have to stay this time?” You asked, and the doctor rolled his eyes at your sassiness, tapping his pen against the clipboard that he was holding. 

“Considering your lack of self regard and the fact that we have to make sure your lungs are properly drained and then we have to stitch you up again… It’ll probably be a good week before you’re out of here. Now… You said that you’d have someone there who knew what was going on when you got home… Why did the person who brought you in seem so confused? Did you lie just to get out of here?” 

You sheepishly scratched the back of your head and then your face crinkled up as you nodded your head. “But, I was gonna tell my boyfriend! He just got home before me and the house was kind of a mess and I completely forgot about the laundry… You know… Getting stabbed kinda makes you forget about daily chores. I tried to do the laundry when I got home and then… Bam… Stitches popped. I blame the sock.” 

“The sock? You blame the sock?” The doctor repeated, completely exasperated by your sense of disconcern for what was going on. “You could have just explained to your boyfriend that… you know… you got stabbed.” He mocked you, placing his clipboard under his arm as he shook his head. “I’m gonna assume your boyfriend is the dark haired freckled boy who has been loyally sitting on the floor by your door and crying his eyes out… Does that sound like him?” You pursed your lips, nodding your head slowly. “I’m gonna let him in now, okay?” 

You barely recognized him when he walked in, his head hung low and his hair curtaining his face, but when the door shut behind him, he looked up at you, his eyes immediately focusing in on the tube in your side and then he was bawling once more. “Yah, why are you crying? I’m still alive and… painfully, still breathing!” You tried to laugh, but ended up hurting yourself in the process, wincing when the vibration of your chest caused the tube to shift. 

“How are you still so happy?” Felix questioned, not even coming close to your hospital bed which was actually really upsetting considering the one thing that would probably heal you better than any surgery was one of his hugs and maybe one of his kisses. “Is it the morphine? Do you not feel anything?” He looked at the IV drip that was connected to your arm and then back at your face that was smiling so brightly, he’d think that you were in any normal bed just waking up from a nap… 

“No, silly… It’s because you’re here.” You simply explained, holding your arms out to him. “Where’s my hug at? I’ve waited so long for one of your hugs, and you’re just gonna stand there and stare at me?” You pouted, looking down at the tube and letting out a quick sigh, it would have been longer and way more sassy if your lungs could have handled it, but they couldn’t, so a short bit of sass was all you could give right now. “I know I look like a lab experiment right now… but… A hug would be really nice.” 

“You’re like this… because of me… And you still want a hug? You still want me close to you?” He quizzed, and your eyebrows lowered as you looked at him with such shock, your eyes looking around the room before landing back on him. 

“Babe, I don’t know what you’re talking about right now, I just want a hug and maybe some kisses if you feel so inclined to give me them.” You motioned your arms out to him once more, a little more forcefully this time. “I’ll let you have a couple bites of my flavorless jello if you give me a hug… Please?” 

He chuckled, although it sounded way more sad than usual as he finally walked over to you, carefully maneuvering his arms around the tube as he rested his forehead against yours. “You didn’t tell me…” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your nose before pulling back. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Because I knew that you’d blame yourself…” You brushed his hair away from his face before lightly poking his freckles and smiling to yourself. “You’re still doing that right now though… Which is silly. I’m the one that decided to do the laundry even though the doctor told me not to. That’s not your fault.” 

“You didn’t tell me you got stabbed, angel. I wouldn’t have gotten so worked up about the house if I knew that… And you could have told me to go fuck myself after I sent that text.” He scoffed softly as he finally, carefully, sat down on the edge of the bed. “We’re suing her… The whole company is… And we’re gonna make sure you and the other girls have body guards at all times. Nothing like this will ever happen again…” He took a deep breath, and then pursed his lips apologetically as he let it out slowly through his nose and you snorted softly.

“Don’t feel guilty for being able to breathe better than me, breathe deeply for me since I can’t right now…” You joked and he rolled his eyes, his head falling back as he groaned loudly, but you could hear his laughter although he was trying his best to hide it. 

“God, you really are something else…” He murmured once he had calmed down, looking over at you with the softest eyes that held the whole universe in them, although you could only see your reflection in his pupils, but to him, you were his entire universe. “They tried to send my angel back home… I’ll never let that happen… I won’t let you go. If you go, I go… I love you too much to live without you here beside me.” 

You sniffled softly, biting your bottom lip to try to hide the fact that you were on the verge of tears. “Damn…” You choked out before clearing your throat. “I love you too, Lixie… Don’t make me cry though… Makes it hard to breathe…” His eyes widened, and you knew he was on the brink of beginning to apologize again, and you knew that if he did he wouldn’t stop so you cut him off before he could begin. “You think we got time for like… a quickie before the doctor comes in to check on me?” 

“WHAT?!” He shrieked, his cheeks burning a bright red as he glanced at the door and then back at you. “You’re crazy… God I love you so much…” He chuckled as he shook his head, leaning in to kiss you softly as he pet his hands over your hair. “Maybe at night though… I missed you a lot… You know…” 

#stray kids #skz #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz x reader #skz x you #dad!skz #dad!stray kids #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz headcanons #skz fic #skz drabble #stray kids imagine #stray kids headcanons #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fic #stray kids drabble #stray kids angst #skz angst #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin angst #lee felix #lee felix x reader #lee felix x you #lee felix angst

[tortillamastersblog]

➶A big misunderstanding | Kate Bishop➴

Pairing: Kate Bishop x reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Since she joined the team, you can’t help but notice how weird Kate acts whenever you’re around…

Part 2

________________________________________________

Walking into the kitchen, I smile at the smell of pancakes that greets me.

“Good morning,” I say cheerfully as I round the corner.

I’m greeted by Sam, Bucky, Natasha and Kate. They’re all standing around the stove where Kate is flipping pancakes.

“Morning,” Bucky greets softly before turning back to the pancakes.

Sam and Nat send me smiles before also turning back to the stove. It’s like they’re dogs, drooling over a bone.

I chuckle softly and approach them, looking over Kate’s shoulder to appreciate the pancakes that are currently cooking in the pan.

“Smells great,” I compliment with an exaggerated inhale which is apparently the wrong thing to do because Kate shrieks in surprise and throws her arms up.

It results in her smacking the spatula into my face and I stumble back with a groan, covering my eye with one hand.

“Jesus!” I exclaim. I slap Sam’s shoulder to get him to stop laughing and send Nat and Bucky a glare to get them to stop smirking.

Kate spins around with wide eyes and lifts her arms as if to touch me before dropping them again. “Oh my God, Y/N! I’m s-so sorry… I didn’t mean to— I swear, I didn’t even realize you came in, I just—“

I raise a hand, effectively cutting her off mid-ramble. “It’s okay, Kate.”

I wince and lower my hand slowly, blinking to test if my eye still hurts. It does but it’s now no more than a dull ache rather than the stabbing pain it was when she actually hit me.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” Kate reiterates, her face scrunched up in guilt. She eyes me a moment longer before snapping out of whatever trance she was in and pulls and bag of frozen peas out of the freezer. “Here, take this.”

I laugh softly and take it from her, pressing it against my eye. “Thank you. It wasn’t entirely necessary, but thank you.”

Kate smiles nervously and goes to say something else when Bucky suddenly yelps behind her. “The pancakes!”

I look past Kate to see smoke rising from the pan. Sam and Nat watch in amusement as Kate scrambles to salvage the goods, but in the end she hast to throw out the batch and pour new dough into the pan– Much to Bucky’s dismay.

It’s not long after that the rest of the team comes sauntering into the kitchen. The small table gets set, rather than the big one in the dining room, and everyone starts loading their plates with pancakes and fresh fruit.

“These are great, Kate,” Steve compliments after swallowing his first bite.

The rest of the team murmurs their agreement around mouthfuls of food. Kate smiles bashfully and takes a sip of orange juice.

Cute…

“Yeah, they’re great,” I add with an approving nod which makes Kate’s eyes widen. She almost chokes on her orange juice and I frown, not having anticipated such a reaction.

“You good, kid?” Tony asks, his eyes twinkling mirthfully.

Kate’s eyes dart around the table, widening when they land on me before quickly snapping back to her plate. “Fine… Totally fine,” she chokes out.

I go to say something else, apologize maybe (for what I’m not exactly sure) but then she abruptly stands up and excuses herself from the table.

When she’s gone everyone looks puzzled. Well, almost everyone. Everyone except Nat who smirks at me with a knowing glint in her eyes.

I raise my brows in question, but her smile just widens and she turns back to Bruce to continue their conversation.

The rest of the table also resumes their usual morning chatter which leaves me in stunned silence.

What was all that about?

A week after the spatula incident in the kitchen, Steve stops me in the hallway. I just got back from the gym and am all sweaty and gross, so I only reluctantly agree when he passes me a comms device and asks me to bring it to Kate.

“Hers broke on the last mission,” he explains, “and Tony wants her to have it before we move out later.”

I sigh and make my way to the archery range where I know she is with Clint this time of day. We haven’t seen much of each as of recently and I’m starting to get the feeling it’s because she’s been avoiding me.

I enter quietly and wait for Clint to finish explaining something before approaching. “Hey guys.”

Clint nods and raises a hand in greeting. Kate’s eyes find mine for a second before they drop to roam over my exposed arms and shoulders. Her jaw slackens and I scratch my neck uncomfortably, not being used to this type of scrutiny.

I should have shower and changed before coming here, I think.

Clint watches the two of us with growing amusement before clearing his throat pointedly. “Y/N, what brings you by?”

Kate snaps out of her stare and looks around for a distraction. Her eyes land on the bow rack next to the arrow stand and she moves to put her bow away.

“Steve sent me,” I explain, raising the comms device. “Bruce managed to fix it.”

Clint clicks his tongue. “Right, yes. Tony mentioned it would be ready before we move out.”

I hand him the device before lifting the bottom of my shirt to wipe some sweat off my forehead.

Christ, I’m sweating like a pig…

In that moment there’s a loud crash and my head whips around to find Kate scrambling near the wall, trying to pick up all the bows she must have just knocked over.

I rush over to help her, but she winces when I crouch down next to her. “I’ve got it,” she snaps, her eyes trained on her shaking hands.

I gulp and freeze for a second. “Kate, let me help—“

“No,” she cuts in, snatching a bow from my hands and whispering another, “No.”

I’m just trying to help. Why is she being like this? The rejection that spreads through me is like a punch to the stomach. So she has been avoiding me. Why else would she be acting like this?

Did I do something wrong? I think about all our interactions since she joined the team, but I can’t come up with even a single instance where I might have done her wrong, or pissed her off.

I watch Kate for a second longer, hastily picking up the bows, before getting up. “Fine,” I mumble dejectedly. “Good luck tonight,” I add, referring to her upcoming mission with Clint.

She doesn’t look up or reply, so I back away with a frown.

Clint’s expression mirrors my own when I turn his way and he shrugs when I send him a questioning look.

I sigh and leave with a timid wave, not sparing another glance at Kate.

“Wanda?” I knock on the redhead’s door, waiting for a response. “Can I come in?”

Red wisps appear around the doorknob and the door opens.

I step inside to find Wanda at her desk with her back turned toward me. “Just a second, Y/N,” she says softly, typing away at her computer for a moment longer before turning around with a small smile.

“What can I help you with?” she asks as I close the door behind me.

I sit at the edge of her bed and fidget with my fingers. “You’re a pretty good judge of character, right?”

“I guess so… Why?” she says slowly.

I let out a shaky breath and look up to find her watching me curiously. “Do you think I’m a bad person?” I inquire.

There’s a beat of silence before Wanda gets up and sits next to me on the bed. She’s always been like a sister to me, so I trust her when she rushes to say, “What? No, of course not!”

I chuckle sadly and bite the inside of my cheek.

“Why would you think that?” Wanda pushes, her hand landing on my shoulder.

“I—“ I pause and think of how to phrase what I’m about to say next before delving into everything that has transpired between Kate and I.

It’s a lot and by the end of it I realized how much all of it has been getting to me. I’ve always thought of myself as a forthcoming, friendly person, but Kate’s blatant rejection of my company or care has me doubting all of it.

What’s surprising is that once I’m done talking, there’s a moment of silence before Wanda starts laughing next to me.

I scoff and eye her incredulously. “Hey! What’s so funny? I pour my heart out to you and you laugh?!”

Wanda tries to stifle her laughter by pressing her hand to her lips, but it does nothing to hide the mirth in her eyes.

“Hey!” I exclaim again, getting up, but Wanda grabs my arm and pulls me back down next to her.

“Wait,” she says around a huff of amusement. “I’m not laughing about your pouring your heart out. I’m laughing because you’ve got it all wrong.”

My annoyance quickly turns into curiosity. “Huh?”

Wanda shuffles closer and fixes the rumpled collar of my shirt. She’s such a mom…

“You’re not a bad person, by any stretch, Y/N/N,” she explains, her voice soothing. “And Kate’s not avoiding you because she hates you.” She emphasizes the hate part because those are the exact words I used to describe my relationship with Kate. I open my mouth to object, but Wanda is quicker, adding, “Quite the opposite actually.”

I stare at her, not knowing what to say until a disbelieving laugh bubbles out of me. “What are you talking about, Wanda? Kate doesn’t like me!”

Wanda raises an eyebrow and watches me expectantly as I continue to laugh.

“No! She can’t— She doesn’t—!” I stop myself abruptly when it dawns on me. Maybe what Wanda is insinuating isn’t that far fetched… It would certainly explain why Kate, a usually composed and precise person, turns into a fumbling, stuttering mess every time I’m around.

It would also explain her abrupt departures every time she knocks into me, or drops something around me. She’s not avoiding me because she doesn’t like me, she’s avoiding me because she’s embarrassed.

“Oh my God, Kate likes me,” I whisper and it’s as if Wanda’s words have lifted the fog in my mind that appears every time I think of the young archer.

I can see clearly now how she wasn’t judging me for being sweaty and gross at the range earlier. She was checking me out.

And when she knocked all the bows off the bow rack… It’s because I pulled my shirt up.

I turn to see Wanda beaming at me and as if the realization of Kate’s feelings toward me wasn’t enough already, I suddenly know why it’s hurt me so much that she’s been avoiding me.

She’s funny, and kind, and can be such a dork sometimes, it’s adorable…

Oh shit!

My ears heat up and I quickly look away when Wanda raises an eyebrow. “It is adorable,” she affirms with a smirk and I nod until it registers what she just said.

I freeze, horrified, and stare at her wide-eyed. “Did y-you just read my mind?”

Wanda laughs and raises her hands defensively. “I can’t help it if your thoughts are so loud!”

I groan and jump to my feet. “Wandaaaa!”

Wanda gets up too and grimaces apologetically. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to. I swear.”

I take a deep breath and rub my eyes with the heels of my hands. “Just— You can’t tell anyone about this. Not a single soul, you hear me?”

Wanda grabs my wrists and pulls my hands off my face. “I wouldn’t dare,” she says sincerely before adding, “You’d make a cute couple though.”

“Aargh!” I shove her aside and make my way to the door. I’m pretty sure by now my whole face and neck is as flushed as my ears.

Wanda cackles unapologetically and I roll my eyes, leaving her room without looking back.

Well shit, what do I do now?

________________________________________________

#marvel #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop #the avengers #fluff #kate x reader

[starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies]

The Princess and The Pogue | J. M.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: Your daughter comes home from school telling you about a local OBX fairytale. It turns out it’s about you and your husband.

Listen to But Daddy I Love Him for full experience

Requested by @idontevenknowbsblog

A/N: This turned out way longer and more angsty than I had anticipated but I’m a sucker for the angst. I just can’t help it. I’m sorry this took me a million years to finish!

As I am an adult, all characters I write for are written as adults. Any minor characters will be aged up to the general range of their actor’s age.

Warnings: allusions to domestic abuse, controlling parents, forced engagement, so much fucking angst, only kinda proofread

Word Count: 3.5k

~

Your daughter’s tiny feet press against the back of your seat as you head home after picking her up from school.

“Mia, stop kicking,” You laugh, “Mommy’s trying to drive.”

“Sorry, Mommy.” Your daughter giggles. “I’m just so happy today!”

“I’m so glad you're happy, Baby.” You smile at the five year old in the rearview mirror. “What did you do at school today?”

“We got to draw all our shapes today and we sang the alphabet song a bunch of times!”

“Ooh sounds like a fun day.”

She claps excitedly. “Oh and Kylie’s older sister told us a fairytale at recess!”

“A fairytale? Very cool. What was it about?”

“Did you know a princess used to live here? A long time ago. She ran away with a pogue because her evil king father wouldn’t let them be together.”

Your eyes widen at her words, a small smile forming on your face as she tells the story that takes you back to what seems like a lifetime ago.

-

“Mom, I’m headed out,” you yelled through the foyer.

“Ok, hun.” Your mom poked her head over the stairwell. “Just don’t stay out too late. We have that business lunch with the Cameron’s tomorrow and it’s very important that you be there.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” you promise, “besides I’m just going to hang out with Sarah.”

“We just love that you and Ward Cameron’s daughter are friends. It looks so good for your father’s business for the families to be close. Especially with you set to inherit the company someday.”

With Ward Cameron being the biggest real estate developer in the Outer Banks and your dad owning the biggest construction company, the two men worked closely on most of their deals. They were also the closest thing to friends that either of the men had. The two richest men in the island made for a powerful team.

“Glad I can help you keep up appearances,” you muttered under your breath.

“What was that, hun?”

“Always happy to help the family.” You gave your mother a forced smile and made your escape, slipping outside and into Sarah’s waiting car.

“Ready to go see your man?” She grins at you and you return the gesture.

“God, yes.“

-

You hadn’t expected to fall in love with JJ Maybank. Considering the very different lives the two of you led it was surprising the two of you ever even crossed paths, but that was one of the perks of being Sarah’s friend. When she fell in love with John B and got involved with the pogues she dragged you along with her.

It wasn’t like you had anything against the pogues. In fact, you had admired them from afar your whole life. Their freedom and adventures were something you envied, forever stuck in your kook bubble. You didn’t have a choice but to follow the plan your parents had created for you.

JJ, on the other hand, hated kooks with a passion. He had a hard enough time with Sarah joining the group and when she brought you in, arguably the even bigger kook princess with the even bigger kook king of a father, he vowed to himself he would never accept you. After all, you represented everything he hated, the life he always dreamed of but would never attain.

He would sneer and call you “princess”, his voice dripping with disdain, doing everything in his power to piss you off, but you didn’t mind. You loved his passion and the way he would do anything to protect the people he cared about. You ignored his insults, treating him just as well as you would anyone else.

Before he knew it, your soft words and beaming smile had softened JJ. He began to actually look forward to your presence in the group, feeling sad when you couldn’t get away from your parents to spend time with them. Then, one day the two of you were the only ones to show up to a pogue hang out. You ended up spending hours just talking and getting to know each other. The rest was history and you had been together from that day forward.

Unfortunately, you knew that your parents would never let you spend time around a pogue, let alone be in a relationship with one. So, like Sarah and John B, you and JJ had to keep your relationship hidden. Thanks to the help of the pogues, the two of you had been successfully seeing each other behind your parents’ backs for over a year.

-

“I’ll be back to pick you up at 8:00,” Sarah reminds you. She pulls up to the little cove where you and JJ liked to meet. “We only have a couple of hours tonight because of that lunch tomorrow. Don’t want our families to get suspicious.”

You nod. “Got it. I’ll see you then.” You slip out of her car. “Tell John B I said hi.”

“Will do.”

She pulls away as you make your way around the rocks hiding the entrance to your spot.

“Hi, princess.” Your boyfriend grins at you in the orange light of the sunset, pulling you into a hug.

“JJ,” You breathe him in, soaking up the comfort he gives you. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby. Four days without you is four days too much.” JJ leads you over to the blanket on the sand, sitting back so you can settle between his legs.

“I know. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t get away much this week. My parents are going crazy about this lunch tomorrow.”

“Aren’t they always crazy?” JJ jokes, poking your side. You squirm a little bit, trying to escape his prodding.

“I mean, yeah. They’re just extra crazy this week.” You settle further into his chest, JJ giving up his attack in exchange for wrapping his arms securely around you. He nuzzles his head into the side of your neck. “But, it’s okay because at least we have right now.”

“How long do we have until Sarah comes back to pick you up?”

You let out a sigh. “Two hours.”

“That’s it? Damn.”

“I’m sorry, J.” You look back apologetically, but he just shakes his head.

“Hey, don’t apologize. We just have to make the most of the time we have, like usual. It won’t be like this forever.”

“Right.” You give him a small smile, turning back to face the sunset before he can see the doubt in your eyes. You hoped JJ was right, but you had no idea how things would ever change.

As expected, your time together flew by too quickly and before you knew it Sarah was back to take you home.

JJ was reluctant to let you out of his embrace. “We’re still on for tomorrow night, right? After you finish up with all your kook business?”

“Of course, baby. I wouldn’t miss it.” You give him one last goodbye kiss, distracting him long enough to slip out from his arms. He pouts, but lets you go, knowing if it was your choice you would never leave.

-

You stare numbly at the wall, unable to will yourself to move from your position balled up on the bed. You aren’t sure how long you've been laying there looking at nothing. You didn’t feel anything, having cried out all your tears hours ago. A buzzing sounds from the other side of the room, your phone going off once again, but you don’t pick it up. It’s probably Sarah calling again to see if you’re okay after what happened at lunch. You’re not.

Having sat in silence for so long, you jump when you hear a rattling at your window. It takes you a minute to clamber over to the window with the lights out in your room. You hadn’t realized how dark it had become outside.

You peek out warily, trying to determine the source of the noise. “Shit.” You mumble under your breath as you realize JJ is perched in the tree closest to your room.

You unlatch the door so he can climb inside, turning away from him quickly. You’re thankful for the darkness in that moment as you scramble to make yourself look presentable, flattening your hair and wiping at your face. You pull down the sleeves of the massive sweatshirt you’re wearing, one you stole from JJ months ago, making sure you are completely covered.

“JJ, what are you doing here,” you whisper, “What if someone sees you?”

“I was worried about you. You were supposed to meet me hours ago, remember?” He sounds frustrated.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I totally forgot.” You run your hand down your face stressed. “I didn’t mean to stand you up.”

“You forgot? Y/N, I’ve been calling and texting for hours.” JJ moves closer, but you step back. “I thought something bad had happened.”

He takes another step back. Again you back away, trying to keep him from seeing your face. Brows furrowed, JJ moves towards you again. This time you can’t move away fast enough, bumping your dresser as you try to get away.

“Woah, wait.” JJ takes your face in gentle hands. “Have you been crying?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You try to pull away, but he doesn’t let you off that easily.

“Baby, what’s going on? Is it something I did?” The worry in his eyes brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. You shake your head, willing them not to fall.

“No, no. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Something with Sarah?” You shake your head again.

“Your parents?” That stills you. “It is your parents. What is it? Did something happen at lunch?”

You don’t answer.

“Talk to me, baby. I can’t make it better if I don’t know what’s wrong.” JJ’s voice is so sincere and his touch so soft. He really thinks he’ll be able to fix whatever the problem is.

You gather your strength and gently pull away from him, not wanting to see the look in his eyes when you tell him.

“My father and Ward Cameron have decided that it is in the best interest of their respective businesses for our families to be officially joined.”

“What on earth does that mean?”

You feel like you're going to be sick, but you force the words out anyway. “I am set to be married to Rafe Cameron.” You keep your eyes on the floor, waiting for JJ’s response. He stays silent.

“I had no idea they had this planned until my parent’s announced it at lunch.”

“What do you mean you’re marrying Rafe Cameron?” He tries to keep his voice calm. But you can hear the venom behind his words anyway. “You can’t just marry Rafe.”

“I don’t have a choice, JJ. They practically signed my ownership papers over to Rafe right there.”

JJ is pacing your room now, hands constantly running through his hair. “He can’t just do that. You’re an adult, Y/N. Tell him no.”

“I can’t tell him no JJ.” He stops in front of you, the look on his face half shock half anger.

“What are you talking about? You can’t just tell me that your father is marrying you off to Rafe and not even try to fight him on it.” You turn from his intense gaze, unable to handle it any longer.

‘Y/N-” JJ reaches for your arm to turn you around and you flinch back hissing in pain. Your sleeve rides up, revealing a number of dark bruises.

“I tried talking him out of it, JJ. He made it clear saying no wasn’t an option.”

JJ seethes, body tense with anger. “He hurt you.” It’s not a question which is just as well because you have no response.

“I’m gonna kill him.” He growls.

You lay your palms flat against his chest. “No, you’re not. We can’t make this situation any worse than it already is.”

“He can’t just get away with this!” JJ’s voice rises with his anger and you shush him quickly, looking back at your door.

“Please, Y/N.” His voice cracks on your name. “Things can’t just end like this.”

The pain in his words breaks your heart. You let the tears fall freely, unable to hold back the emotion any longer.

“I’m so sorry, JJ.” He cradles your face in his hands like he did at the beginning of the night. “There’s nothing either of us can do to change this.” JJ brushes his thumbs against your cheeks, brushing at the tears. “You should go.”

“No, Y/N.” He has tears running down his face too. “I can’t leave you like this.”

“Please, JJ. You have to go before something wakes him up. I don’t know what he’ll do if he finds you here.”

JJ’s eyes flit down to your wrists, taking in the bruises once more before he nods slowly. He won’t be the reason your father hurts you again. You lips press against his slowly, both of you pouring all the love you have for each other into the kiss.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips.

“I love you, too. Always.”

With those last words, he slips back out your window, closing it quietly behind him. You watch as he climbs back down the tree and crosses the property. As he finally fades out of blue, you sink down to your floor, your knees unable to hold the weight of your body as it’s wracked with sobs.

-

You don’t leave your room for days. All you can do is lay in your bed and cry, mourning the loss of the man you love and the life you had planned.

If it was up to you, you would never leave that room. Unfortunately, your parents have other plans. They parade you and Rafe all over town, making sure everyone on the island knows the two of you are “madly in love” and engaged to be married in the spring. The whole pageantry of it makes you sick.

The cherry on top of the whole ordeal is the engagement party that you parents planned for the weekend. They rented out the whole club and invited every kook on the island. You’re pretty sure it’s your own personal hell.

Sarah pins one last curl to your head. “Done. You look beautiful.”

You give her a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks, Sarah.” You were dressed in a white sundress that your mother had bought for the party and Sarah had done your hair and makeup to perfection. The whole look was stunning, but you just feel like a trophy being shown off.

Sarah gives you a sympathetic look. “You ready for this?”

“No. But I have to be.”

It takes everything in you to keep a smile pasted on your face as Rafe takes your hand and leads you out to the throng of people. Everyone smiles and hugs you, offering their congratulations. You do your best to seem gracious and excited, but all you feel is emptiness and the faces move before you in a blur.

You make it two hours into the party before you can’t take it any longer. The panic that has been creeping up your throat all night takes hold and you have to break away. You excuse yourself from Rafe, claiming a need to run to the bathroom. He gives you a harsh look and makes you promise to hurry back, but ultimately lets you go.

You hurry away from prying eyes, not letting yourself break until you get inside. Chest heaving, you gulp down air like you’ve just run a marathon. One of your hands is pressed against your chest, the other braced against the walls to hold you up as you stumble towards the bathroom.

Before you can make it more than a few feet an arm catches you around the waist, pulling you into an alcove you had never noticed. You stumble back, trying to pull yourself together, not wanting whoever grabbed you to see your harried state.

“Hey, hey. It’s just me.”

Familiar hands rub up and down your arms, grounding you. You look up to see the blue eyes that you love so much.

“JJ,” you whisper, breaths still coming fast and hard.

“It’s okay, baby. Just breathe.”

JJ holds you close as you will your body to calm, feeling safe for the first time all night.

“What are you doing here?”

“I had to see you, talk to you.”

You sigh, looking at him with sad eyes. “As happy as I am that you’re here, you have to go. If anyone sees you. My father, or Rafe-”

“What if you didn’t have to worry about them anymore?”

“JJ, we’ve been over this. I can’t break this engageme-”

“What if we just left? You and me. Right now.” His eyes bore into yours, willing you to see the possibility.

You can’t act like you haven’t had the same thought yourself, but you just didn’t see how it would be possible. “How would that work, JJ? My father controls my whole life. My money, my future, everything.”

“You don’t need anything he has to give you, Y/N.” His voice is pleading.

“JJ…”

“We can figure it out. You have a degree, I have experience. We’ll get jobs. We’ll make it work.” He reaches a hand into his pocket. “I know I can’t give you a life like this-”

“I don’t want a life like this.”

“-but I will do everything in my power to give you a good life, to make you happy.” He holds up a simple, beautiful band of silver. “Will you marry me?”

You stare up at him with wide eyes. “Are you serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. Say you’ll marry me. We can leave right now. I have a plan to get us off the island. Your parents won’t know until it’s too late. Just say yes, please.”

“Yes, yes.” You nod vigorously. “I’ll marry you.”

You rip off the gaudy ring currently on your hand and JJ replaces it with the silver band. He kisses you so deeply you think you see stars.

“I love you, JJ Maybank,” you whisper when you part.

“I love you too, Y/N Y/L/N, so much.”

You could stay in that moment forever, but you both know you don’t have time to waste. JJ begins to pull you to a side exit, but you stop him. There’s one last thing you have to do before you leave.

You find a piece of paper, scribbling out a few quick words and titling to your father.

Have fun explaining to the Cameron’s that your daughter ran off with a pogue

Y/N Y/L/N

You set the folded paper on the center table, placing Rafe’s ring next to it.

“Ready to get off this island?”

You grab JJ’s hand. “God, yes.”

-

JJ was right, the two of you figured it out. You both found jobs on the mainland and created a happy life for yourselves. You and JJ got married a few months after you ran off and Mia came along a few years later.

You had kept in touch with the pogues of course and they let you know when your father and Ward Cameron’s businesses had come crashing down, forcing the two men off the island. They had no power anymore, so eight years later you decided to move back to your home. People had gossiped at first, but they moved on to the next big thing when they realized that neither you nor JJ cared what they had to say. You wanted to be in the place where you grew up and fell in love, and you wanted Mia to be surrounded by the friends that you called your family.

Mia was just about bouncing in her seat by the time you got home. You hurried to get her out of her carseat so she could rush inside and see her dad. Friday’s were always her favorite because JJ got off work early and was already home by the time you brought her back from school.

She pulled you along by the hand as she continued on about her fairytale. “The evil king disappeared and they lived happily ever after.”

JJ scooped Mia up as the two of you entered the house, making the little girl squeal in delight.

“Daddy!”

“Who lived happily ever after, Mia-mine?” She giggled as he burrowed his face in her little belly.

“The princess and the pogue!”

JJ’s eyes met yours over Mia, giving you an intrigued look.

“Kylie’s older sister told her a fairytale at lunch about a couple that used to live on the island.” You tell him with a knowing grin.

“A fairytale? That’s awesome, baby.” JJ lowers Mia back down to her feet. “Hey, why don’t you go wash up and Mommy and I will make you a snack.”

“Okay, Daddy!” The little girl runs off happily.

You make your way to the kitchen, JJ coming up behind you and snaking his arms around your waist. “So the princess and the pogue, huh?” He smirks as you turn to face him.

“Who knew we’d become an OBX fairytale?” You reply.

“It makes sense. It doesn’t get much more ‘happily ever after’ than this. Right, princess?”

You give him a gentle kiss. “Right, pogue.”

~

Writing Masterlist

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fic #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x y/n #obx x reader #obx fic #obx fanfiction #obx #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fic #stars writes #starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies

[vyutg]

content ⊂⊃ loser!hanbin x female reader, 18+

️️ ️️️️️️️️️ ️️—

hanbin had always felt self-conscious about his lack of experience, hence his reluctance to physical intimacy. he was always shy and reserved, a true nerd at heart. you assumed he must have had at least some experience in doing sexual stuff. but he explained that he had always been focused in his studies.

he wasn’t clueless about it at all, he was just inexperienced. how many times has he touched himself to the thought of you?

hanbin started fidgeting with his glasses, an indication that he was nervous and that he had something on his mind. after a few moments of silence, you rolled your eyes and said, “we don’t have to do it if you’re not comfortable, hanbin.” because as much as you wanted to seem unfazed by his behavior, you were still concerned about him.

he took a deep breath and looked into your eyes. “i’ve never done this before and i don’t want to disappoint you.” you could tell he was tense about the whole thing, too shy to make a move, afraid that you would judge or reject him.

you decided to be the one to initiate things and gently kissed his neck, causing him to let out a soft moan, his heart racing as you shifted forward and finally kissed his lips. it was like a switch had been flipped and his shyness disappeared in that moment. he slowly moved his lips along with yours, carefully, as if he was afraid of doing something wrong and make you stop.

the kisses turned into a heated make out session, with you seated on hanbin’s lap. you could feel his cock pressing against your cunt. you broke the kiss and looked at him, his face red as he seemed to be thinking carefully of what to do next. hanbin wanted you so bad. he wanted to touch you, to feel you. he wanted you to be his first so badly, but he was too shy that he didn’t know how to express it.

“do you trust me?”

he looked at you with complete honesty as anticipation built within him. “i trust you. i want nothing more than to please you. so please do whatever you need in the moment, if you have to push me closer.. or push me away—“

“you talk a lot, loser.”

“sorry, i got carried—“ hanbin let out a soft gasp as your fingers glide over the buttons of his uniform, revealing more skin with each click. he once again bit his lip nervously, a silent encouragement for you to continue. he watched you take off his uniform and proceed to take off his pants as well.

by the time the last piece of his clothing hit the floor, he gulped nervously and mumbled, “should i undress you too?”

“you’re so polite, it turns me on.” you scoffed. “but yeah sure, if you’d like.”

he nodded. hanbin gently slid his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt and started pulling it up slowly. he audibly gulped at the sight of your breasts peeking out from the lace of your bra. he swallowed hard to keep his composure as he pulled your bra down, revealing more of your breasts with each passing second.

“you wanna feel them?” you asked.

he looked at you, fighting the urge to touch you and explore further.

“what? i need to know what you want, hanbin.”

he nodded eagerly, unable to resist you any longer. “i wanna touch you.”

that made you giggle. “see? it wasn’t that hard.”

he spent a few moments exploring your body; letting you feel the warmth of his palms on your breasts, trailing kisses down your neck, and tracing the curves of your body with his fingertips and lips. you both allowed yourselves to get lost in the sensation.

“i’ve been dying for this,” hanbin whispered into your ear as he positioned himself between your legs. he held onto your hips, steadying himself, eyes filled with desire. “tell me if it hurts.” he let out a shaky breath, fighting the urge to thrust into you right away.

“shut up, you’re the virgin one here— oh god!” you couldn’t help but moan when he entered you as he shuddered at the feeling of finally being inside you.

he groaned in relief and started moving slowly, every inch of him in you driving him wild. both of your bodies were shaking with each thrust.

“hngggh.. fuck— feels good.” he grew bolder in his movements, gradually picking up the pace, matching it with your breaths. your grip on his arms became tighter as he thrusted even faster, your breasts jiggling with every thrust.

hanbin thrusted harder, losing himself completely to his passion. you couldn’t do anything but moan under him as he moved in and out of you. “bin… please don’t stop… haaah…”

“fuck baby, fuck fuck fuck fuck— so close… so close baby..” he felt the intensity reaching its peak and thrusted harder and faster. he was panting heavily, eyes locked on yours.

you could see the sheer of satisfaction and happiness on hanbin’s face as he came on your stomach. he held you close as you both came down from your climax.

“how was it?” you asked, voice surprisingly soft and gentle.

he swallowed hard, feeling a wave of emotions. “it felt… great,” he said softly. “i never thought my first time would be with someone as amazing as you.” he continued, still panting.

hanbin had offered to clean you up before you could even scold him for cumming on you. but you were honestly thankful that he had pulled out even if you were on the pill. it just showed that he knew what to do during that moment, considering that you didn’t talk about contraceptives before doing the deed.

“thank you,” he said while you were laying together, voice thick with emotion.

you just smiled at him, finding the moment endearing that you didn’t want to ruin it by saying something mean. your loser deserves to be treated nicely and sweetly sometimes.

© vyutg, 2024.

#loser!hanbin #sung hanbin smut #hanbin smut #hanbin x reader #hanbin imagines #hanbin hard hours #zb1 smut #zb1 hard hours #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #kpop hard hours #kpop hard thoughts

[daddysfangirls-marvel]

Polyamorous: Interruptions

*Bonus*

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader x Bucky Barnes/ Stucky x reader

Warning: fluff, smut

Polyamorous material list

Three bad interruptions and one good 

Children are wonderful, and parenthood is beautiful. Bucky, Steve, and (Y/n) loved it. Enjoyed every moment of it and loved their children very much. There wasn't a day that went by that they didn't love their children and show it. Their daughter and their son, their sun and their moon. 

No one told them what they'd gain from parenthood.

And no one told them what they'd lose with parenthood either. 

They love being parents, but gods did they miss being able to fuck in peace.  

Bad

(Y/n) giggled as Bucky pressed kisses along her shoulders and down her back. "Good morning to you, too" she said 

"I can make it better," he whispered as he started to pull her panties down. She hummed and kept her eyes closed as he removed her panties. She buried her face into her pillow as he continued to kiss her shoulder and massaged her hips and ass.

"Time?" she asked as his fingers lowered, stroking her lips. 

"7:47," he said as he found her clit, giving it small circles.

She moaned, "They'll be home soon".  Them being Steve and Ash. Steve and Sam had gone for an early morning run, and Ash joined them. Steve wanted to spend more time with her, and she wanted to be out in the city more. That being said, their run would come to an end soon. They were undoubtedly on their way back to the tower, and they would be here sooner rather than later. 

"Then we'll have to be really quick," Bucky said, pulling his finger back, pulling down his sweatpants and freeing himself. He groaned as he stroked her clit with his tip before pushing inside. She sighed as felt him slide into her. Laying on top of her, he turned her head to kiss him before lacing their fingers together. She moaned lightly as he slowly thrust against her. 

It was slow and soft with gentle moans and kisses. They held on to each other, leaving no space between them. 

"I love you," Bucky whispered as he kissed her 

"I love you," (Y/n) moaned against his lips. 

He groaned as she started to push back into him, grinding into him.  "More," she begged. 

"I can give you -"

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

The door cracked up with a little warning, but a few quick knocks and Ash stuck her head in. "Are you awake?" she whispered. 

"Morning, sweetheart," Bucky said in a rough voice, trying to give the illusion of just waking up. Thank the heavens she couldn't see his face because she'd see his full-blown panic, And thank his past self for being too lazy to remove the blankets because then she'd see what they were doing.

"Steve and I got breakfast on the way if you want some"

"Thanks," he said, and she dipped out, closing the door behind her. 

"Shut the fuck up," Bucky cursed as (Y/n) started to shake from laughter as she buried her face in her pillows. 

"I told you so," She whined as he pulled out. 

"I said shut up," he said again as he slapped her ass. She yelped but continued giggling. "That was a close call."

"Learn to lock the door before trying to seduce me"

-

Bad

Steve was on the phone with some big fancy politician. And Bucky was bored. He was supposed to have lunch with Steve, but this call was taking longer than anticipated, so he was sitting here bored out of his mind and hungry. He already lost interest in playing with the figurines on his desk. 

He watches as Steve throws down his pen, now nodding and humming along to whatever is being said. He rolls his chair back and runs his hands through his hair, giving Bucky a sympathetic look. It was likely that they wouldn't be having lunch together after all. But maybe they could still do something with him. 

Standing up, Bucky walked around the desk. He kissed Steve's forehead as he massaged his shoulders. Steve closed his eyes and leaned into his touch. Leaning forward, he kisses his neck as his hands rub his chest. 

"Well, if it comes to that, sir, I'm sure you'll have better solutions by then." Steve Swatted Bucky's hands away as he reached for his pants. 

Rolling his eyes, Bucky stepped around the chair to stand in between Steve's legs. Steve's eyes got comically big as  Bucky kneeled in between his legs and laid his head on his thigh, and.... nothing. As he froze up, Bucky didn't do anything but lay his head on his thigh and close his eyes.  But Steve knew Bucky better than this, so he knew that this wasn't his end game. He wanted more. He was planning more. And he would not get caught in those plans while on the phone with a senator. 

"Sir, something has come up and needs my attention... Yes, sir ...I'll be sure to finish and send those to you as soon as possible. Alright... goodbye." He quickly hung up the phone.

"Finally," Bucky said as he unbuttoned Steve's pants. " Don't give me that look. I waited until you were off the phone." 

Steve chuckled but didn't stop him as he unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down. "If you're not going to take me to lunch, you can at least give me this... yeah?"

Bucky started to look hesitant before Steve dashed it. " Don't worry, and I'm still taking you for lunch after. You deserve it for waiting for me and ...this". 

Finally, freeing his cock from its restraints which were his jeans. " I like doing this, I always like doing this"

Steve sighed and leaned back as he watched Bucky. He watched him, and his eyes were on him as he licked up the length of his cock and sucked on his tip, and stroked the rest of him. He gasped and arched his back as he started fondling and tugging on his balls. Steve moaned as he took the rest of him in his mouth. He put a hand in his hair and tugged slightly as he started bobbing his head.  

"Fuck, You're too good for me," Steve hissed. 

Bucky let go with a pop he smiled, whipping his leaking cum. "And you taste too good"

Reaching forward with the hand not stroking him, he pulled Steve down for a kiss. 

"c'mere," Steve said as Bucky stood up. He pulled him forward, having him straddle him. He began to unbuckle his belt and zipper.  " Let's see how good you taste"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I'm going to put you across this-" 

"Hey, Steve Ash needs-OH SHIT" The door swung open without warning, and Bruce came in and quickly turned around and dropped his files on the way. " I'M SO SORRY, I'M SO SORRY"

As Bruce quickly tried to gather his files, Bucky and Steve went to hide themselves back in their pants and make themselves more presentable. By the time they had gathered themselves, Bruce was already gone. 

"Fuck" Steve said as Bucky sat on his desk. 

"No, actually, we didn't get that far."  Steve swatted his thigh. "How much trauma do you think that was?"

"At least a week of silence."

-

Bad 

"Fuck" Bucky cursed as he arched his back, pushing himself further onto her. "Wait, wait," he called out. 

"Are you okay?" Steve asked as he passed over (Y/n), rubbing his chest. (Y/n) kissed him along his jaw and down his neck to his chest.

"Yeah, I just.... I need another... to adjust. Sorry"

"Don't be sorry," (Y/n) said. "Take your time. Talk to us, How does it feel?"

Bucky let out a shaky sigh. " I just... overwhelmed. Too much ...Need a second is all."  

"Do you want me to-"

"NO," Bucky said as he reached back, grabbing (y/n)'s arm. "Stay!"

"Okay, okay," (Y/N) reassured him with kisses and massaging his chest, " You tell us what you want, okay?"

He took a moment to breathe and relax once he was feeling better. He nodded, signaling them to go ahead. (Y/n) kissed him. Steve ran a hand through his hair before he leaned back. Taking hold of (Y/n)'s hips, he thrusted, pushing her forward into Bucky. He groaned as she moaned. It was like a domino effect he'd push forward into her, and she'd push forward into him, and they'd both sing for him.

Three filled with the sound of slapping skin and moaning. 

"Fuck"  Bucky whimpered as (Y/n) started stroking him. 

"Yes, you feel... so good," she said as she stroked him she pinched his nipple with her other hand. " I want you to paint my chest. C'mon cum for me,"  (Y/n) said as she started to stroke him faster, matching Steve's thrusts. 

"You'll paint my chest, won't you, Bucky ... and Steve will fill me up." 

Steve pulled her back for a kiss. His hand joined hers in stroking Bucky. " I'll fill you up and make him clean you out." They both moaned at that. " You guys like the sound of that." He chuckled as he wrapped his hand around her neck, squeezing it slightly he felt her react, her wall clamping down on his nasd, sucking him further in. 

"You'd love it" he whispered against her skin as she whimpered. 

"fuc-"

"MOMMY!" The door flew open, revealing  Ian on a step stool. 

The throuple quickly detached and moved to cover themselves with sheets as their three-year-old son cried by the door. 

"what's wrong, honey?" Steve said as he was the quickest to recover and cover himself with a blanket around his waist. He rushed to his son. (Y/N) and Bucky was still on the bed, working to remove her harness under the sheets. Praising their son wouldn't notice, and he didn't see. 

Ian didn't say anything he just cried. Upon further inspection, it was then that Steve noticed that his son was covered in dried mud and gunk. Fun fact about Baby Ian: he did not like to be messy for too long. 

"Oh Honey,"

"I'M SORRY," came a shout down the hall as Ash rushed over. She was supposed to have even for the day. " I'm so sorry, he's supposed to be outside." She said as she tried to grab him, but (Y/n), now in a robe and freed from her harness, beat her to it. 

"My little baby"

"I'm sorry, we went to the park, and we came back, but you guys were...busy, so we went to the garden. I turned my back, and he was gone.  I'm so sorry"

"It's okay, you're fine," Steve said he went to put his hand on his shoulder but fortunately decided against it. 

"He just wanted to get clean," (Y/n) said as she bounced him on her hip "And you will. You're going to take a bath with Mommy." She said as she walked out of the room going to use Ian's bathroom instead of her own. 

"I'm sorry we interrupted ...." she motioned to the room and...bed. Bucky managed to find some sweatpants and joined Steve. 

"It's fine. Thank you for taking him for the day. And giving us ours," Bucky said. 

" He's my brother. We had fun," Ash said, and it was true she didn't mind hanging out with her younger brother if anything, the age difference made everything more fun. She couldn't wait until he was old enough to talk properly. "I'll leave you guys to... you" And with that she quickly fled to her room. 

And Stev closed the door. " You were supposed to lock the door"

"Me?! I was busy getting fucked in the ass. You came in last; you should have locked the door."

"I came out the shower. Through that door not this door. You came in through this door last so it's your fault."

"Is not"

"Is to"

"Is not"

"Is to"

" I'm not arguing with you." Bucky said, "Let's take a shower, get dressed, and finally put on those baby safety knobs you said you were going to put on two weeks ago"

Steve sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. " I was busy". 

-

Good 

(Y/n) walked in and found Bucky leaning against and gripping the bathroom counter and Steve kneeling before him, bobbing his head up and done on his cock. She stood at the door for a moment, just watching. Watching as Steve held on to his hips, he slowly moved his head while licking the underside of his cock, as he looked up at him through his eyelashes. Watching as Bucky leaned against the sink, gripping the counter with one hand and running his fingers through Steve's hair with the other, watching him with hooded eyes. 

"That's not good for your hips," She said, bringing attention to herself. " How about we move this to the bed, yeah?"

Standing back up, Steve gives Bucky a peck and then crosses the room to give (y/n) a full-on kiss. (Y/n) kept kissing him as she walked backward to the bed. He began to put on her dress, trying to unbutton it when she stopped him. 

"Let's try something else," She said. She unbuttoned her dress further, opening the front. Bucky came up behind Steve, kissing his shoulder and neck. He bent him over on the bed, and (Y/n) pulled his head into her lap. Leaning over him, Bucky kissed (y/n) as he slowly pushed into Steve, he whimpered and hissed as Bucky thrust into him.  (Y/n) ran her fingers through his head and scratched his scalp. The feeling was soothing and overwhelming all at once. Really, it was something he never felt before. 

He whimpered more as he pushed his face into (y/n) stomach. 

"Fuck" Bucky moaned as he held on to his hips, thrusting into Steve " Fucking perfect. Isn't he fucking perfect"

"Perfection" (Y/n) watched as Steve opened his mouth, letting out a string of moans. " You fit perfectly. Where you belong, isn't that right, Steve?" he moaned. " Use your words, baby boy"

"So good...so perfect," he groaned. " Fit," he whimpered, digging his nails into her side. He chokes as Bucky picks up and puts his head on the edge of the bed, giving him a much deeper angle. 

(Y/n) continued to run her fingers through his hair as Bucky's thrusts pushed him further into her stomach. He moaned as she tugged lightly.

Suddenly, they pulled back. Steve was confused as Bucky suddenly pulled out, and (Y/n) pulled away, removing his arms. He was turned over to his back before he could express his confusion out loud. 

"FUCK" he moaned as Bucky thrust back into his knees to his chest, his head once again in (y/n)'s lap she held one of his hands while the other dug into the sheets.

(Y/n) watched as pleasure washed over his face, each thrust came with a soft moan."Beautiful," she said.

Bucky let out a particularly loud groan. Pulling out, he took both his cock and Steve in one hand, stroking them both. 

"I-I...help," Bucky said 

Reaching forward, (Y/n) took over, stroking both of them slowly. 

"You need help?" she asked seductively as she wiped her thumb over both their tips they were leaking, nearly ready to bust. "You need my hand?"

"Only yours," Bucky moaned. They both arched their backs into her touch. 

"Then tell me, tell me how good I make you feel. Tell me how good it is." 

"too good, so good," Bucky groaned as he leaned forward, kissing her. 

" Fuck me, please feels so good," Steve begged, letting go of the sheets he reached up and grabbed her breast, letting go of his hand. She grabbed at the breast he was holding. Steve watched as they kissed above him, exchanging moans and tongues. 

Steve started thrusting up against Bucky and into (y/n) hand. 

"Cum.... Cumming" Steve moaned out as he came spilling onto his stomach. 

And the sight of and sound of Steve was enough to Bucky over the edge, spilling onto his stomach as well. Cum mixing together. 

Bucky falls over to the side. The three sit for a moment in silence, with (y/n) running her hands through both of their hairs. 

Steve took hair hand and kissed it. Kissing her fingertips, knuckles, and wrist going up her arm (Y/n) sees what he's doing and quickly stops him, pulling her arm away. 

"What's wrong?" they both sit up. " Are you alright?"

"There's nothing wrong." (Y/n) said as she removed her dress completely, tossing it into a chair in the corner of the room. 

"You just don't want to?" Bucky said, relaxing slightly because she wasn't hurt, at least not physically, from what he could see. 

"No, I do, I really do," She said as she reached forward, kissing him. " You don't know how much I want to. But I can't"

"Why?" Steve asked 

"She says I have to take it easy, shouldn't risk anything, at least not for a while"

Now they were confused and concerned "What? Who? Why?" 

"Dr. Tsunade" 

And that, paired with her grin, was all the explanation they needed. Suddenly, Steve jumped out of bed, picked up  (Y/n), and twirled her around, but then he stopped quickly, putting her back down just as quickly as he picked her up. He hesitantly but gently put his hand on her stomach. 

"Bucky," Steve said as he looked at him, "there's a.... we're having...haha".

Bucky placed a hand, his right hand, on her stomach." It's ours"

"That's what I came to tell you. But you guys were busy. I didn't want to interrupt."

"You should have interrupted. I could suck his dick anytime. This- This is a miracle." Steve said, gently kissing her stomach." this is our miracle"

"Yeah, Yeah, it is" 

"Our baby"

#polyamorous #polyamourous series #polyamourous #fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #avengers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #stucky x reader smut #stucky x reader #stucky fanfiction #stucky smut #stucky #steve roger x reader x bucky barnes #steve rogers

[stinmybubs]

"I Want you Pt.2" NSFW

AN: Hi hi!! Thank you all so so much for the love on my last post, this one was planned out a tiny bit more but tbh I just want to skip to the sex at one point sooo Teehee. (I also decided to spell his name with the gou lol.)

18+!! Please Minors DNI! Please and thank you! I’m not too good at drawing sex scenes tbh! So I hope this’ll be okay I’ll practice more!

AFAB! Reader x Bakugou Katsuki

Warnings!!: Degrading!! LONGER THAN PT.1

Pt. 1 here!

Bakugou was livid. Not only was every other boy in the class able to get a peek at your ass, but you keep purposely putting yourself out there for everyone to see. Of course he didn’t want anyone to look at what he wanted. What was his. But of course, you weren’t his yet though.

Bakugou found the best way to punish you, to tease back. Maybe leave some soft touches on your body here and there, getting you to want him, crave him, and only think of him.

So, as the time passed in the gym he plotted how he was going to go about this without being caught by everyone else. But seems fate had something in store for the two of you, because you could have perfect timing.

“Fuck I need more water…” you groaned, begging for time to go faster. As you grabbed your water bottle your good friend Uraraka waved to you, quickly walking over to you with her beautiful smile on her face.

“Where ya goin? We have like 20 more minutes.” The wide eyed girl asked, curiously looking at you.

“Well, I need more water if I’m gonna survive anymore of this…or I’ll pass the fuck out.” You say, wiping your forehead with your towel as the girl chatted it up with you before letting you go refill your water.

As you make your way out the hall and to the water fountain, you can’t help but think about how sexy Bakugou looked working out. His skin glistening perfectly on his muscles, oh and the way his pecs just looked so perfect, the way he would lift up his shirt from time to time to reveal his abs. Oh god. He was so hot.

You thought about how his rough hands would feel on your body. How’s he would grab you by the waist, he honestly could easily pick you up without and issue. You gulp as you put the water bottle underneath the faucet of the water fountain. Not realizing how you were rubbing your thighs together and your breathing became uneven.

“Whatcha’ thinkin’ of? Hm?”

The voice made your heart sink. Feeling a sudden weight behind you, his hands grabbing the water fountain to trap you in front of him.

“N-nothing… I’m just thinking how long the workout out is!” You pant, your heart racing as he pressed against your back.

“Really? That’s all? Cuz yer sure was showin off a ton back there..” he leaned in to your ear, the feeling of his breath on your neck and ears made you shudder.

“I-…I don’t know what you mean Bakugou.” You try your best to keep yourself together. Oh how you wanted to just melt underneath him and let him take you right then and there.

“Hm…you think I don’t notice? Yer’ little stares? Ya’ pathetic attempts at teasing me?” He puts the thin skin of the tip of your ear between his teeth, nibbling it slightly. You let out a small whimper, omg. It’s finally happening! You shut your eyes prepared anticipating his next move.

Nothing. As hot as his pressure was, you didn’t realize he was gone. What the fuck? Was I imagining or was that real? Am I going crazy over this man? You panic internally realizing how hot your body was. Fuck, i gotta go home. With that you did not care if you all had 20 minutes left on the clock, you were all hot and bothered and needed some relief.

“Fuck…” you quickly fidget with your keys, trying to get your room door open. “Why isn’t it working?” You hiss, taking the keys out to examen them. Wrong key. You accidentally grabbed the nearest key next to your water bottle instead of your own. The worst part is. It was Bakugou’s keys.

“Oh my god, you got to be kidding me…” your heart began to race, thinking of your last interaction with the guy.

“Oi. You got something that’s mine.” The familiar voice seen shivers up your spine, your heart dropping as you turned around to look at the blonde. “Haha…seems I do” you awkwardly laugh, watching him walk over to you, he had a towel wrapped around his neck with one hand holding one side and behold his other hand. A key.

“And I’m guessing that’s my key?” You point to the key in his hand. He nods, a small smirk entering I face. Oh how handsome he was up close. You couldn’t help but stare at his face, it’s like you were entranced for a moment, watching a bead of sweat drip down his face and off his chin. Oh how you saw his grin grow wider.

“Quite ya’ starin.” He uses his free hand that was once holding his towel to flick your forehead.

“Ow, sorry! Sorry…may I have my key back?” You looked back him, making eye contact for a split second before he made a ‘hm’ noise. His body shifted closer to you, pressing your back against your dorm door. The dangled the key over your head as he leaned one arm against the door.

“Come earn ya’ keys back pretty.” He once again flicked your forehead, grabbing his own keys out your loose hands and walked away.

You were freaking I out. What did he mean? Why did he do that? What the FUCK is going on? So many question filled your flustered head. Omg, omg omg, omg!! Your face burning red.

Katsuki waited patiently in his room, leaning against his own bed, staring at the keys he had in front of him. You were taking fucking forever, all that teasing and no guts to back it up made him snicker.

Knock knock

Finally. Opening the door to see you standing there, your face all flushed red. Cute. He thought, letting you into his dorm, grabbing your keys and throwing them somewhere.

“What took ya’ so long? Fucking thought you pussied out of wanting me.” He grabbed your face, making you look into his eyes. “I uh…was nervous?” You questioningly stated. Your heart racing. His room smelt so good.

"So uh...how do I earn my keys back Bakugou?" You nervously asked as he let your face go, blushing at how big his hands were. The boy hadn't answered you yet, but oh you got your answer when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you close to him.

"B...Bakugou? Why-" you were cut off by Bakugou pressing his lips onto yours, moving the hand that was on your wrist to your waste to pull your body closer to him and the other pressing your head deeper into the kiss.

You were in shock, your eyes wide making eye contact with katsuki. Soon you melted into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. Fuck. You never knew kissing could feel so good, it got hot so fast it felt like the room was on fire. Your kiss with bakugou soon became sloppy as he effortlessly picked you up by the waist, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist as he moved you over to his bed.

Katsuki released himself from the kiss, you let out a small whine because the kiss felt so fucking good you never wanted it to stop. questingly looking up at him, you noticed that devilish smirk on his face. "Wha-AT" You squealed as he tossed you onto his bed.

"What the fuck Bakugou!?" You shout, super confused on what's going on. Trying to sit up you feel your legs being grabbed and pried open by his hands. "W-Wait!" You shout, trying to stop him from removing your shorts.

"I-...I haven't showered yet I might stink." You shyly try to close your legs back up but he was just too strong, keeping them open. "I don't care. And stop calling me Bakugou...ya' know what we're about to do and ya' still keep saying the wrong name. It's Katsuki." He gently slapped your hand away from you trying to remove his hands.

You gulp, completely surrendering yourself to his will, watching as he slowly removed your shorts. you could already feel how wet you were through your own panties and were extremely embarrassed because you knew he was gonna tease you about this.

"Wow...this we for me? Or was it when ya' decided to give the whole class a show hm..? " The feeling of of one of his fingers pressing against your soaked panties, at this point the panties didn't even matter, you felt how he rubbed his fingers against you fold causing you to let out a small moan.

Katsuki couldn't wait any longer, all the teasing and the thoughts he had of you all building up to this moment. Fuck you looked so hot laying on his bed, face all flushed and completely surrendered to him.

Katsuki removed you panties effortlessly, tossing them aside not caring where they landed, fuck. This is really happening. You felt Katsuki’s fingers slowly slip into you, your slick already making wet noises which made you really embarrassed.

Katsuki watched you, he watched as your body convulsed and your face contort as his fingers moved in and out of your pussy.

“K-…Katsu please.” You look at him with pleading eyes, his fingers felt so good, but of course you wanted more. And you knew he wanted more too. “Ya’ want me that bad huh?” He chuckled leaning himself further between your legs, his fingers still doing their job as his face got closer to yours.

“Why should I give a slut like you my dick?” He questioned, you barley able to answer him over the feeling of his thick, touch fingers pounding into your pussy. “C-cuz…please?” You beg, your eyes slightly welling up with tears of desperation. You’ve never felt so hot and needy in your life.

Katsuki hummed at your expression, he could feel his cock throbbing in his pants, his mind being clouded with lust. Finally having you laying in his bed, it felt like a dream.

Katsuki removed his sweatpants and boxers swiftly, ready to feel you. Of course he couldn’t think properly, not even caring to get a condom…not like he had one in the first place, him being a virgin. He was simply acting on instinct and desire.

You try your best to brace yourself, trying to get a peak at his dick. You couldn’t really due to his tank top dropping a bit far where you could only make out a bit of it, and boy was he bigger than you thought he would be.

His dick wasn’t huge, it was the perfect size about 6.5-7 inches and hell was he pretty girthy. This made your anxiety peak a little. Will that hurt? Well the only thing that’s been inside your body until this moment has been your fingers. So yeah pretty sure it’s gonna hurt.

“Look at me.” You heard the blonde boy growl, one of his free hands forcing you to look up at him, making eye contact the whole time he slowly put in his dick.

“Ah..! Katsu-…it hurts!” You hiss in pain, feeling his dick stretch out your walls. He simply groaned, stopping a little bit to make sure you adjust to him. “Fuck.” Katsuki leaned in to kiss you, trying to help distract you from the pain as he slid the rest of his dick inside you.

You moan into his mouth, deepening the kiss as you felt even more pain writhe throughout your body. Soon the pain easing into a more pleasurable feeling. Oh you felt so full.

“Kats..!” You separate the kiss, leaving a string of saliva from one another’s lips. “You can…you can move” you struggle to say. Katsuki didn’t waste anytime, slowly he started moving his hips. He was trying his best to hold himself back, but you were so fucking tight and he just wanted to ravage you.

Slowly his thrusts became faster, leaving you a moaning mess as your vision became a bit blurred. Oh how you didn’t regret teasing Katsuki at all if it all means he wanted you this badly as well.

“Fuck!” Katsuki exclaimed looking back into your blurred eyes, loving how pathetic you looked underneath him. “Ya’ look like a whore.” Katsuki’s comment made you feel something, you never thought you’d like anything like that but his comment turned you on even more.

“Ya’ like that huh? Like being called a fucking whore and slut.” You gulp, nodding your head profusely as he kept fucking your pussy.

“Katsu…please! More!” You beg, you couldn’t help but give up your own will because you just felt so good. “Beggin like a fucking whore…ya’ so fuckin perfect for me.” Bakugou kissed you, a rough and sloppy kiss.

You felt like a fucking pornstar as you stared at the ceiling when he kissed you, feeling closer and closer towards your climax. Fuck…thought I’d last longer. You admitted to yourself.

Immediately you remove yourself from the kiss, letting out pathetic moans, “gonna…cum!~” you shout, wrapping your legs around his waist trying to trap his dick inside you.

“Fuckin cum ya’ slut.” Throwing your head back in pleasure, you could feel your legs violently shake as you finally came. Katsuki stopped, looking at your pathetic state and with a lick of his lips he lifted one of your legs over his shoulders.

“Wh…what…?” You question, barley able lift your head to see what he’s doing.

“I haven’t cum yet…” he gave you his signature smirk.

Oh fuck. You were in for a long night.

AN: This took me a lot longer to complete than I liked it to. I got stuck at the sex scene because I just forgot how to write it. So I’m trying to practice on smut again! I hope you all enjoyed it I am sick rn so I will proof read this later! Thank you so much for all the love!! Xoxo Stinmybubs.

#bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #mha x reader #bakugou headcanons #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki x y/n #bakugou katsuki