#|| Sorry I had something more ambitious in mind but no time. :

[hatredcurse]

Happy birthday, Sakura (@hana-akari)

[yazmarina]

dime, ¿esto es lo que tú quería'?

charles leclerc and oscar piastri x fem!reader

how about a reward for monaco's p1 and p2?

warnings/notes: smut, threesome, a blowjob, slight degradation, dirty talk, unprotected sex (wrap it up, people!!!), cumshot, creampie, gagging, light choking

a/n: very ambitious and would not set me free until i wrote it...so please enjoy <3

.

You really had no idea how you ended up here.

Arthur is a good friend of yours, having met him when you first came to work for Ferrari under the communication department, mostly being assigned to handle the Academy and development drivers' communication needs. You and Arthur got on well, and eventually, you were hanging out with him and his other friends on the weekends.

The two of you were strictly friendly, something you've had to clear out multiple times to work superiors, nosy colleagues, insistent reporters, you name it.

Arthur isn't your type, point blank, period.

His older brother was a different topic altogether.

Charles was sensitive, artistic, a prince charming in all aspects. Being in close proximity to Arthur meant you spent some time with Charles, too, but those were few and far between and every time you were within five feet of Charles, you were reduced to a tongue-tied mess.

Regardless, Arthur insisted you come along to the celebrations after Charles' most recent win in Monaco.

"Charles knows who you are and you're my friend. He won't mind," Arthur pleaded earlier that day as you were packing up after the podium celebrations.

"What if you go running off and I'm left alone?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I won't go running off," Arthur promised. "I'll be with you the whole night. I'll even help you look for a guy you can go home with!"

And yet you're here in the present, sitting on a couch in the VIP section, alone.

Well, not really. You're surrounded by people but none of them are talking to you. Arthur had gone to get more drinks half an hour ago and you know by now that he probably was sidetracked by other friends or something to that effect.

You have half a mind to call it a night, your hand already reaching for your purse, when you hear a voice call out.

"________! You're here!"

You look up and your heart seems to jump right into your throat.

Charles is beaming down at you, a flag of Monaco draped around his shoulders, his previously styled hair now sticking up in all directions.

You caught a glimpse of Charles earlier when you arrived with Arthur, but the race winner was too busy doing shots for you to have properly said hi.

But he's here now. And he's sliding into the space beside you.

"Where's Arthur?" Charles asks, reaching for an unopened Heineken on the table in front of you.

"I have no idea," you half-yell, leaning closer so Charles could hear. You feel goosebumps erupt on your skin when Charles lays a tentative hand on your back.

"You can spend time with me, then," Charles grins, moving his arm further so it fully wraps around your shoulders.

A nervous laugh escapes you but your instinct is to lean even further into Charles' touch. He's still smiling at you, though clearly inebriated with the way his eyes seem out of focus.

"Ah, Oscar!"

You turn your head to see the other third of the podium finishers, Osar Piastri himself.

"Hey!" he calls over the din of the music. "I can't find anyone! I think they just abandoned me," Oscar adds, laughing.

He takes the seat on your left, effectively sandwiching you between him and Charles. You smile politely at Oscar, reaching your hand out.

"Hi, I'm ______," you say, smiling wider as Oscar takes your hand in his and squeezes.

"I'm Oscar," he says then pauses, realizing that you probably already knew who he was if you were any friend of Charles'. He laughs, practically giggles, hiding his face in his hand.

"Sorry, I see you around the paddock sometimes, so I probably didn't need to do that," Oscar explains, cheeks turning pink, or at least you think they do, given that the lighting in this club is atrocious.

Oscar is still holding your hand and you can tell that he's tipsy too by the way he's smiling, eyes hooded and sleepy-looking.

"________ is part of communications in Ferrari," Charles explains, rubbing his thumb over the exposed skin of your shoulder. You turn to look at Charles, and the way he gazes back at you, a half smile on his lips, breath hot on your cheek, has your heart pounding incessantly against your chest.

"She's very efficient," Charles praises with a chuckle. "I like seeing her around when she works."

You make a move to swat at Charles' thigh as if to tell him off. "Stop it, I'm not at enough races for you to see me that often."

You're laughing, mostly in disbelief at the words that just came out of Charles' mouth. He likes seeing you around?

Charles shrugs. "But when you are, I notice."

You feel your neck heat up and even more so when Charles maneuvers you closer, seemingly protective. If you moved any more, you'd be on Charles' lap.

Oscar eyes the two of you and you'd give anything to read the thoughts in his head right now. The younger man locks eyes with you and smiles, sweetly at first, but then his pupils glance down briefly at your chest, barely covered by the tube top you decided to don for the evening.

The sweetness quickly melts away as Oscar bites his lip.

"You're close, then?" Oscar asks casually, scooting closer to you and Charles.

"Arthur and her are good friends," Charles points out.

"So I guess by default, _______ and I are good friends, too."

You laugh and Oscar is grinning once more at you, and god does he look handsome under these lights. You can tell that he wants to come even closer, his fingers tapping nervously on his knee. Some slow song is playing over the speakers, bass loaded and making the entire place vibrate.

You reach out, laying a hand on Oscar's thigh, squeezing just enough to get the point across.

Oscar looks over at Charles and you follow his line of sight, seeing some sort of unspoken agreement cross the two drivers.

Charles dips his head, moving even closer to you. He breathes out right next to your ear and you shiver.

"Ma chèrie," he begins. "I think we need to take this somewhere else."

You turn to look at Charles, blood roaring in your ears. "What?"

Charles looks straight into your eyes as if searching for something. He rubs a soothing hand down your back, letting it settle on your waist.

"You want to, no?" Charles asks, momentarily glancing up at Oscar. "With me and him?"

You feel a rush of excitement course through you. Surely, this isn't happening. The idea of Charles bringing you home crossed your mind briefly the moment he touched you earlier, but that's as far as you allowed yourself to imagine. But the remnants of alcohol in your system and the intoxicating atmosphere of the club must have gotten to you with the way you so brazenly made a move on Oscar.

And now you reap what you sow.

"We can hang out at my place," Oscar throws out nonchalantly as if he was simply inviting you and Charles to more drinks at his apartment.

"I just moved in and it could use a little...housewarming," Oscar adds with a pointed look.

Charles bursts out laughing, leaning down to press a kiss to your shoulder before nuzzling into the side of your neck. You glance around, hyperaware that all eyes have been on Charles the whole night, and for sure it isn't any different now.

"Andiamo," Charles whispers. "We'll make it good."

Let's go. Your months of Italian as a prerequisite to working in Ferrari barely register with you now.

Oscar slips his own hand over your thigh, his large palm covering an expanse of your skin.

"You'll love the view from my balcony," Oscar offers, tilting his head towards you. He smiles, innocent and sweet once more, simultaneously squeezing at the flesh of your thigh.

You bite your lip, suppressing whatever sounds that threatened to come out.

-

You thought you'd never make it out of the car ride to Oscar's place.

Oscar had brought his own ride and being much, much more sober than both you and Charles, he took the initiative to drive. You and Charles piled into the backseat, giggling.

"Not fair, you guys," Oscar teased from the front, eyeing you through the rearview mirror. Charles merely snickers, hands sneaking up over your chest as you settle on his lap.

"Eyes on the road, Oscar," Charles ordered, yanking your top down, exposing yourself fully to Oscar. You gasped, the cold air of the air-conditioning lending to the stiffening of your nipples. Charles began to toy with them, pinching and rolling them between his fingers, reducing you to a speechless mess. You noticed just how hard Oscar was gripping the steering wheel, tight enough that his knuckles were drained of color.

You barely had time to cover yourself back up once you got to Oscar's place, with Charles tugging you out of the car as soon as Oscar killed the ignition. The younger of the two comes around to your side of the car as you and Charles stumble out. Oscar takes your hand in his and leans down briefly to kiss you, tongue darting out to lick at the seam of your lips.

Oscar pulls away, sending Charles a look. "I was on the podium, too, mate."

"Ah, sorry Oscar," Charles says lightheartedly. "Sharing isn't really my strong suit. But for her, I will try."

Charles lands a smack on your ass, the sound loud enough to make you flinch. You involuntarily whine at the sting, tripping over your feet a bit. Oscar steadies you, laughing along with Charles.

"We're gonna have so much fun with you, chèrie," Charles teases, kissing your cheek.

The elevator ride is even worse. Or better. You can't decide.

It's just the three of you, and you're backed up into the corner, Charles being the handsier of the two, creeping both hands up your sides, his knee pushing between your legs.

"Ch-Charles, not here," you manage to warn. He increases the pressure against your core, grinning as he watches you shiver.

Oscar watches from the side, arms crossed, leaning casually against the elevator wall. You meet his gaze and he winks, smiling languidly just as Charles kisses down the side of your neck.

Soon enough, the elevator doors open and you push Charles away, startled to see a pair of middle-aged women waiting on the other side. You hurry past them out into the hallway, following Oscar who saunters down towards the end with an easy step.

"Right here," Oscar declares, unlocking a door at the very end. Charles guides you inside just as Oscar turns the light on.

The living room is spacious, with a single couch and coffee table occupying it. A deep blue rug breaks the cream flooring. Past the receiving area is the dining and kitchen, set against floor-to-ceiling windows, a staple of Monegasque apartments, as you've come to figure out. A hallway veers to the right.

"You weren't kidding about the view," you comment, taking in the night sky and the sprawling harbor.

Oscar turns back to you, and only now do you get a good look at him. The first three buttons of his shirt undone, his hair the right kind of messy, and his eyes, darker than what you're used to.

"The view in here is just as good," Oscar replies, eyes raking over your body. He reaches out, a hand resting on your waist.

"May I?" Charles whispers from behind you, tugging down the zip of your skirt. He gets it open and you let it fall to your feet, kicking it off to the side.

"So pretty," Charles adds, kissing along your upper back. Oscar hikes your top up and you let him pull it over your head, leaving you bare, save for your panties.

"I could see your tits through your shirt the whole night," Oscar comments, pointer fingers ghosting over your nipples. "Imagined what they might look like."

You gasp, leaning further back into Charles. You had no idea Oscar had that kind of mouth on him.

It turned you on to no end.

"Better than what you imagined?" You breathe out, Charles' fingers making their way over your mound, pressing over the wet spot on your underwear.

"Chèrie, you're so wet," Charles curses, rubbing you through the thin fabric. "Will you let me get a taste of you, hm?"

You nod frantically, already buckling under the lightest of touch from both men. You can only imagine how pathetic you look right now, stripped bare, with them still fully clothed.

"We should move this to the room," Oscar offers, delivering a final pinch to both of your nipples. You yelp as Oscar chuckles darkly, taking your hand in his.

It hasn't even fully started and you're already made to do the walk of shame.

Oscar's walls are still mostly bare but you feel exposed somehow, shivering despite the fairly warm temperature. He leads you and Charles to the door at the end of the hall, stepping inside while undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt.

You're met with large double doors on one side of the room, leading to, what you can only assume, is a large balcony.

"We can do it with a view, amour," Charles says, wrapping both arms around your waist.

Oscar shrugs his shirt off and you watch as his muscles flex beneath his skin, taut and defined.

"We sure can," Oscar agrees, flinging the doors to his balcony open. The cool night breeze blows past your face and you sigh, heart rate picking up even more.

Charles gently maneuvers you closer to the open doors and your hands start to clam up. Shit, are you really doing this?

"W-Wait," you mutter. "Won't anyone see?"

Oscar approaches you, pointer finger hooking into your underwear. He tugs at it harshly, yanking it halfway off.

"We don't have to do it outside if you don't want to," Oscar says, voice low. He looks at Charles. "Don't wanna get kicked out after I've just moved in."

Charles snickers. "The bed is right there. We'll leave the doors open and let them hear you, instead."

And it's true. The bed is directly in front of the balcony doors, moonlight spilling onto Oscar's navy blue sheets. Oscar grabs fully at your soiled panties now, ripping them clean off.

You gasp, but any shock is melted away when you see Oscar ball up the torn fabric in his hand, bringing it closer to your face. He raises his eyebrows as if questioning you.

"Yes? No?" He asks, tapping beneath your chin. It clicks a little late what Oscar is asking of you but you nod, parting your lips.

Oscar grins, pushing your panties into your mouth.

Fuck.

You hear the metal clang of a belt being unbuckled behind you, followed by the crinkle of fabric as Charles lets his pants and underwear pool around his ankles.

"You and I are going to have so much fun with her, no, Oscar?" Charles asks, a hint of mischief in his voice.

Oscar undoes the button of his pants as well. "Yes, we are."

"How do you want to do this, baby?" Charles addresses you, taking hold of your hips. "Tell us."

"And maybe if you're good, we'll give you what you want," Oscar adds, a hand sliding up your chest before resting around your neck. Your breath hitches as you feel Oscar test the waters, squeezing lightly.

"Oh, wait," Charles laughs condescendingly. "She can't talk."

There's a glint in Oscar's eyes as he adds pressure around your neck. "Guess we have to decide for her then."

You whimper, arms reaching out to wrap around Oscar's own neck. He smiles at you, almost warmly, but you can still see the bubbling desire in his irises.

"You can take the gag out any time you want," Oscar instructs softly, releasing your neck. You take in a big breath through your nose.

"And if you don't like anything we're doing, say 'Monte Carlo'," Oscar adds. He nods at Charles and you feel yourself being pulled backward.

"Get on the bed," Charles commands and you scramble to do so, crawling over the mattress before turning around and laying back on your elbows.

Charles and Oscar eye you intently and you're tempted to cover yourself, but with how they've been acting the whole night, you're not sure how that would be received.

"You wanna go first?" Oscar nudges Charles lightly. The Monegasque grins widely like a kid on Christmas.

"Oh, yes," Charles concedes, getting on the bed with you. He scoots down so his face is level with your cunt.

"Hold tight, my love," Charles says before licking a thick stripe up your core. Your whole body jerks and you cry around the gag in your mouth.

Charles continues to work on your dripping pussy, alternating between flicking against your clit and circling your hole. You moan and whine and whimper, eyes tearing up as you look pleadingly at Oscar.

"Look at you," Oscar laughs. "We've barely done anything."

Charles spreads your legs even wider, licking even deeper. You're fully crying now, the buildup proving too much as you feel your body shake at your approaching orgasm.

Oscar reaches over and toys with your boobs, brushing over your nipples just the way you like it. Without warning, Oscar dips his head down and takes one in his mouth, circling the nub with his own tongue.

The added sensation nearly drives you crazy. The pressure builds rapidly inside you and you're left incoherent as you beg without words.

Not yet, fuck, I can't cum that fast–

You twitch and involuntarily press your pussy harshly against Charles' mouth as you come undone, toes curling and body seizing up. Oscar pulls away and watches as you throw your head back, fingers twisting into the sheets.

"Already?" You hear Charles' voice through the ringing in your ears. "You must really want it."

You blink through your tears, momentarily confused as you see Oscar reach for your face. You cough as you feel the dry fabric being pulled out from your mouth. Oscar tosses your ruined underwear to the side.

"I think she deserves a reward for getting there so fast," Oscar suggests, turning to Charles.

"Which one do you want a taste of first? You get to pick, sweetheart," Oscar says, wiping a stray line of drool dripping down the side of your mouth.

"Ch-Charles," you croak, throat still dry.

Charles and Oscar share a curt nod and the former moves to the head of the bed.

"Hands and knees, my love," Charles orders and you follow, getting on all fours. He settles against the headboard, leaning back as you take his cock in your hand.

"Guess you want me here, then?" Oscar says from behind you. You turn to peek over your shoulder to see Oscar stroking languidly at his cock, one of his hands coming down to spread your ass apart.

"Fuck, this view," Oscar hisses, smacking your ass once.

"I reckon, you don't need me to prep you? I can just–"

You shriek as you feel Oscar push in without warning, and though it was a surprise, the obscene amount of arousal coming from your cunt aids in the stretch that Oscar's cock brings.

He fully sheathes himself inside and he groans, grabbing your hips with both hands.

"Chèrie." Charles' voice forces your attention back to him.

"Don't forget about me, hm?"

You try to compose yourself as best as you can as Oscar starts to fuck you at a relentless pace. You lower your mouth down to Charles' cock, wrapping your lips around the tip.

You take half of him in, coating him in your spit, going lower each time you come down. Charles is nearly as incoherent as you were earlier, curse words in three different languages falling from his lips.

You feel the tip of his cock reach the back of your throat and you stop, gagging around it. Charles threads his fingers through your hair, yanking you back up.

"Open your mouth," Charles says, tightening the grip on your hair.

You do as you're told and Charles angles himself better. He holds you in place as he fucks up into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat each time. You will your breathing to slow, but the constant assault on your pussy muddles your brain and destroys your focus.

"She's so fucking tight," Oscar says through gritted teeth. You can feel his nails dig into your sides.

"Here as well," Charles agrees. "So warm and so wet."

All you can do is sob as you let the two of them use you, filled up on both sides, reduced to nothing but two holes.

"Fuck, I wanna cum on her face," Oscar says hurriedly, hips slowing down, probably in an attempt to keep his orgasm at bay.

Charles pulls you back off of him and he surveys you for a second.

"And I'll do it inside," Charles says. "Will you let me cum inside, chèrie?"

You nod, unconsciously clenching around Oscar. He curses, speeding up his movements again.

"Mate, I can't take it anymore," Oscar rushes, pulling out. You whine at the loss but Charles is quick to get off the bed, replacing Oscar's place behind you.

You feel the Charles' tip press against your hole and you plead, rocking back, desperate to be filled up.

"Charles, please, n-need your cum in me," you stutter. "Wanna be filled up, I need it, need you, please–"

Charles slides in one swift motion and your eyes roll all the way back in your head. He's thicker than Oscar and the stretch is almost painful but in the best way possible.

The older of the two wastes no time and starts pounding into you, rendering you speechless at how brutal his pace is. You're dizzy with arousal, spit and tears mixing on your chin and cheeks.

"Look here, sweetheart," comes Oscar's voice, rough around the edges, his hand cupping your chin.

He's stroking his cock at an impossible pace, bottom lip caught between his teeth. You look straight into his eyes as you stick your tongue out, waiting for him to release all over you.

"Fuck, you really are desperate for it," Oscar sneers, gripping harder at your face. "Open wide."

A warm spurt of liquid shoots straight onto your tongue, landing on your cheeks as well. You squint as it hits nearer to your eyes but you obediently lick up everything you can from your lips, swallowing Oscar's thick cum down.

"Oh god, baby," Charles warns. "Je vais bientôt jouir–"

Charles presses you closer to him, caging your hips against his own. He groans and you feel him twitch within you. You clench down as hard as you can around him, earning your hair a harsh tug from behind. Charles yanks you back against him as he gives a few more thrusts to ride his orgasm out.

"We are not done with you yet, amour," Charles warns.

Oscar's face comes into view and he's eyeing you up and down, his thumb swiping at a stain of himself on your cheek. He brings it to your lips and you lick his digit clean.

"Good girl," Oscar praises. "But he's right. You can give us a few more, right?"

You swallow.

You nod.

[queenie-avenue]

Terms and Conditions Apply.

💌 ⤻ THE CEO, ADRIAN HOUDE

—> you're the sweet little intern, and he's the big bad wolf who wants to eat you up.

⤻ reader is written as a female, yandere male, age gap, power dynamic, toxic obsession, slightly suggestive, slight financial abuse, set in london, this is a drabble but full fics of him will be made in the future

🦋 ⤻ archives.

TOP TEN BACHELORS NEAR YOU!

1. Adrian Houde.

Tall, Handsome, Rich, Successful, Ambitious. Ask anyone with more than half a braincell and they will immediately tell you that all these traits are what Adrian Houde has! Born from the rich Houde Family known for their luxury fashion products, he had risen the ranks as CEO of his family's company a few years back.

And boy oh boy, has he made himself known. From various (fake) scandals of him dating various women, to his success in the market in revolutionising his family's industry in fast fashion but still remaining loyal to his grandmother's routes as a custom tailor who first gained traction in France.

Perhaps Mister Houde's only flaw is that he has been on this bachelor list for far too long! He's already in his mid-30s, can you believe this guy has been single for so long?

So, to the lady who catches his eye, good luck surviving all the jealous women who are going to come after you, sweetheart!

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

Adrian Houde is a proud man. I mean, who wouldn't be, right? He was successful, and rich, and practically everyone — regardless of gender or age — wanted to be with him or be like him. He was the pinnacle of a great man, just like his father had said he would be.

So why was it that when you entered the office, looking like a lost little puppy dog, that you captured his interest immediately. Perhaps it was the coffee stains on your skirt and the way your eyes sparkled with desire for greatness. He had seen that spark many times before. In his own eyes, actually. From the moment he saw himself in the mirror as a teen who became aware of the legacy on his shoulders, he knew he was bound for greatness. And you, a simple woman, of all people, carried that same determination and ambition within those cute eyes of yours.

You couldn't blame him for being intrigued by you.

Especially when you looked at him with so much fear in your eyes he couldn't help but laugh.

"I am so sorry, sir- I had no idea anyone was in the meeting room this early." You apologised frantically, holding a bunch of papers and a small, slightly shabby notebook.

"No, no." Adrian voice was smooth and sweet, a mixture of his French accent and his London boy accent he had gotten from the years of being raised in London. "Don't apologise. I was a bit too early to the meeting room, it seems." He said, taking his hands out of the pockets of his suits, raising out his hand towards you.

"Adrian Houde." He introduced out of courtesy.

Hurriedly, you rushed to take his hand, firmly shaking it like you had been taught.

You touch sent shivers down his spine. Was it because your hands were cold or was it something else about you?

Either way, he liked it.

"[y/n] [l/n], sir. It's a pleasure to meet you." You smiled at him, that glow from your eyes never fading.

"[y/n] [l/n]," he repeated, allowing the syllables to roll down his tongue like something falling down the stairs, bouncing. "A pretty name, for a pretty girl." He chuckled cooly as he pulled his hand away.

"I've never seen you before, Miss [y/n]. Are you new?" He inquired.

"Ah, I'm an intern. I just- uh, got posted here recently." You smiled. "I'm a fashion design major."

He couldn't help but be a bit disappointed by that. You were a fashion design major, which meant that you and him would probably not see each other often unless he kept paying visits to the fashion department.

"Wonderful. It's nice to see such wonderful young minds in my company." The older man said as he adjusted the cuffs of his suit with a relaxed grin. "I just know you'll do great in this company."

That blush on your cheeks after he complimented you drove him crazy.

That was how your first meeting concluded.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

You were so intriguing that Adrian just couldn't keep his mind off you. The moment he returned to his office, he called up his secretary and immediately requested for your file.

When he got it, he couldn't help but obsess over it. Your portfolio was so perfect. From all your university extracurriculars to all your little quirks that the intreviewers had noted down, they were all there for him to overanalyse and understand. Your designs, he had to say, surpassed his grandmother's when she first started out the business.

His fingers traced past all the small details of the sketches of the dresses and suits you made and he wondered what you would look like as a model. Sure, you were the artist, but what if you were a muse?

He couldn't help but imagine you draped in fabrics, nothing else underneath.

He shook his head out of it.

Where was all this coming from? He was a gentleman, his grandmother had taught him to be one.

Brushing those thoughts aside, he went back to admiring your work with a smile.

Indeed, you were an asset he couldn't lose.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

Afterwards, he invested a lot of time into you. He would always drop by to the studio to talk to the head fashion designers then he would come find you, especially during your break where no one else would see you.

He disliked seeing you with others, terrified that someone else might steal his skilled intern away. No, he couldn't let any business rivals take you away from him.

Or at least, that was his justification.

Adrian would always watch you sketch your dresses behind you till you noticed and promptly let out a yelp. He enjoyed that fear in your eyes but what he enjoyed even more was the constant ambition sparkling in your pupils.

Right, you were his intern and his future designer. It was normal for him to be so invested in your growth.

After all, he was a gentleman. His grandmother had emphasised him to be in all his teachings, so this wasn't wrong. He wasn't preying on the cute intern because he wanted her. No, no, he was being a good boss by observing your actions and your growth.

Another defense as to why he began to nick your drawing pens away.

He would always replace them by gifting you more expensive pen though, a gift for you "allowing" him to have a close-up of the materials you use.

Plus, his future designer deserved the best.

You were his, after all.

"You lost another pen? No worries, I can gift you this one. Hm? Don't worry about it. Think of this as... an investment on your career."

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

I am his, and he is mine

Summary: You’re married off to Ser Harwin Strong by your lord father’s designs, and the prospect of a marriage consummation terrifies you.

Notes: idk man I just need more Harwin Breakmybones smut. Harwin obviously isn’t with our queen Rhae Rhae in this. Also, pretending not to know what we do abt Larys here.

Warnings: virgin!reader, reader is intimidated by Harwin, first time, reader is extremely innocent, vaginal sex, oral sex (f!receiving), Harwin loves eating punani

Masterlist | requests are OPEN! | hmu to be added to a taglist!!

Marrying his bride the day he met her was never what he wanted. Harwin didn’t consider himself a romantic, but he thought it cruel to be bound to someone you didn’t know for the rest of his life. It was more unfair to you, being a woman and forbidden from seeking out others for love.

His father had meant well with this marriage. Apparently, your father was a childhood friend, and you the oldest daughter of a great house. Though Lord Lyonel wasn’t ambitious, he was loyal to his friends, and the king, who encouraged the match. So in a whirlwind of affairs, the betrothal had been arranged by ravens, and the marriage planned.

You had married in the sept of King’s Landing earlier this day, and though Harwin had written you a letter to calm your nerves, the first time he got any impression of you was when your father led you to the altar.

He felt sorry for you. Whatever dreams you had held for the future had been crushed the moment the septon bound you in marriage. And on top of that, he wasn’t sure if you were scared of him or not. His reputation was true to his character, and next to his wide frame, almost every woman looked frail.

And now, while the wedding feast was in full swing, he saw your hands shake as you attempted to cut your food. He tried to distract himself, looking around the room and attempting to take his mind off of the fact that his lady wife seemed to find him unpleasant.

King Viserys was sitting next to his father, leaving Queen Alicent to put on an icy mask. She was better at hiding it than his wife. Perhaps because she had been in King’s Landing for longer. Princess Rhaenyra, on the other hand, was deep in conversation with Lady Laena. The two of them had grown closer since the rift between Rhaenyra and Alicent, and if Ser Harwin was not mistaken, the Queen looked almost jealous.

Prince Daemon was currently returned from his latest exile, trying to rile up Otto Hightower. Judging from the strain in the man’s jaw, the Prince was quite successful in his venture.

Still, it was his wife that seemed the tensest in the room. The new lady Strong, and yet, you seemed to be anything but. From what he had heard from his father, you liked to read and was very well educated, but beyond that only quiet. You did not ride, or hunt, or keep an army of ladies around her.

For the latter, he was grateful, but for the others… It seemed you didn’t have anything in common. Harwin was as educated as a future lord needed to be, but he preferred to train and hunt. The first time he even heard you speak outside of her vows was to his brother.

“A gift, for the bride.” He said, offering you a book. At that, your face lit up.

“Thank you, Lord Larys.”

“I hear you tried to become a Maester once?” he asked, and you blushed.

“I was five and had not yet realized the Citadel accepted neither women nor children.”

Harwin smiled to himself. It seemed that, at the very least, you had some spirit. When his brother had left, he tried to find something to talk to you about.

“So, what topics interest you?” he tried.

“History and medicine.” you replied curtly.

“Yes, I imagine Aegon’s conquest is an interesting read.” He said. You tried to suppress a smile at that, and Harwin raised a brow.

“Is it not?” he asked.

“Forgive me, my lord, but every child is told the story of his conquest over and over. The histories of Old Valyria before the Doom and Nymeria’s conquest are much more interesting, especially since so much source material has been lost.” you said.

He could tell that you weren’t asked about these things very often, the words spilling out of your mouth so quickly.

“What about you?” you asked.

“Hunting and fighting.” He replied.

“Does that not get boring after a while?”

“It is to me what reading is to you.” Harwin said. He knew you were from the Westerlands, where people spoke more eloquently, and though he was from the Riverlands and had no use for flowery words, he tried for you.

Your silence returned when dessert was served. You dreaded the bedding, and Harwin didn’t think he had seen many brides that were as terrified of it as you.

When it was announced that the bedding would begin, you turned even paler. Before the lords attending could swoop in to grab you, Harwin quickly scooped you up into his arms. Wordlessly, he left, as the crowd let out disappointed shouts of protest.

He carried you all the way to their new, shared chambers, setting you down on the bed. Turning around, Harwin grabbed the pitcher of wine to fill up their glasses. You would need it for your nerves.

As he turned back around, he could see you lying on the bed, the skirt of your wedding dress hiked up to your thighs and staring at the ceiling stiff as a board. He would have laughed at the comical sight, if he hadn’t felt sorry for you.

Instead, he sat at the edge of the bed, gently taking your hand.

“What were you told about the bedding?” he asked.

“My cousin told me it was painful, but my duty.” you replied.

“Sit up.” Harwin said, and you scrambled to follow his words, pulling the skirt back down.

“Your cousin must have a horrible husband.” He concluded.

“They- they do not value each other much.” you said carefully.

“Beddings don’t have to be painful.” Harwin began. He’d never been a woman’s first before, but he wasn’t inexperienced by any means.

“Oh.” Was all you said to that. It sounded more like a sigh of relief than a question.

“Did you not say you studied medicine?”

“The bedding was… seen as unseemly for me. It was forbidden.” you replied.

“I’ll be gentle, I won’t hurt you.” Harwin promised. Still, when he tried to come closer to you, you leaned away from him, trying to keep the distance. As if a kiss would kill you.

With a sigh, Harwin grabbed the dagger from his belt and your eyes widened even more.

“What…?” you asked.

“I won’t force you.” He replied simply, rolling his sleeve back.

“No.” you said, grabbing his wrist. It was the first time you touched him. “I- We have to someday. And I’d like to learn. I need to make my father proud.”

“Your father? This is about you.” Harwin tried. You gave him a half-hearted smile, and Harwin felt that he wouldn’t become friends with his father-in-law.

“If you want me to bed you, you should start by kissing me first.” He said, and you nodded.

“Will I be your first?” he asked. You blushed, lowering her gaze, and Harwin carefully tipped her face up.

“Good. Less pressure.” He joked.

“I suppose so.” you replied. “I promise, it wasn’t while we were betrothed.”

“And if it was, I wouldn’t blame you. Whoever he, or she, was they got lucky.”

You smiled at that, blushing due to his compliment rather than shame. With a determined look in your eyes, you put a hand on his face, pressing your lips to his. It wasn’t the chaste kiss they had shared in the sept, and it wasn’t heated with passion, but it was more than the trembling leaf of a woman that had sit next to him at her own banquet.

Harwin deepened the kiss carefully, his hands finding your intricate braids, impossible to tangle into. So he held you by the small of her back instead, kissing you until you broke apart for air.

“That was… dizzying.” you said. Your cheeks were flushed pink, and your pupils had grown dark, and Harwin could feel desire begin to grow for you. Carefully, he seated himself against the cushions, sitting you down in front of him, and beginning to take out the pins in your updo.

While he worked on the tight braidwork, he began to kiss up and down your neck, careful not to go too low too fast. You let out a satisfied sigh, clapping your hand against your mouth afterwards.

“They’re all gone by now. We were too boring, I suppose.” Harwin joked, and you nodded.

“You don’t have to keep quiet.” He encouraged. “It tells me whether I’m doing the right thing.”

“Oh?” you asked.

“Trust me.”

When he was done, your hair fell down your back in soft waves. Harwin briefly wondered if it was because of the braids, or if your hair was always like this.

Then, he moved onto your wedding dress. It was laced in the back, gold and cream embroidery hiding the strings, and you began to tense when he opened them.

“It’ll be more comfortable if you can breathe properly.” Harwin said, slowly pulling the stiff part of the dress over your head. The long skirt followed, until you were left in a thin shift. It looked like it was meant to entice him, barely transparent enough to see your shape, but nothing beyond that.

Harwin took his time laying the dress over a chair in the room, returning with the pitcher of wine. When he offered to refill your glass, you shook your head.

“I’ll be drunk then. I want to remember for the next time.”

“Already planning ahead?” Harwin teased.

“I don’t know. In case this time doesn’t get me pregnant.”

“You do know there’s more to this than getting pregnant, right?” he asked. You raised a brow, as if you did not believe him. “It’s… it’s supposed to be fun as well.”

“Can we start with kissing again?” you asked shyly. Harwin leaned over, kissing you softly. Your hands were unsure, cupping his face, roaming around his hair and awkwardly landing on his arms. Harwin readjusted them, putting one on his jaw and the other on his shoulder the way he liked it.

He really tried to hold back, but when you let another whine slip, he grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap. You squealed, surprised, but once you were there, you continued with more enthusiasm than before.

Breaking the kiss, Harwin saw that your lips had become a little swollen. Mindlessly, he tucked a strand of hair back to where it had fallen out of place.

“I’m ready.” you said, lying back against the pillows with a look of determination on your face. Harwin snorted.

“You are not. If I do it now, it’ll hurt. Have you ever even touched yourself?”

Your mouth fell open at that, as if he was accusing you of fucking a horse, and your blush took ahold of your ears as well.

“I’m only asking to make you comfortable.”

“Never… inside.” you managed.

Harwin nodded, making his way down your body until he reached the hem of your shift. Gently, he began to pull it up and automatically, your legs crossed over.

When he tried to pry them open, you pulled away.

“I have had my maidenhead inspected.” you said, voice high-pitched.

“I wasn’t inspecting anything. Just… trust me on this.” Harwin asked.

It took you a moment, but eventually, you opened your legs back up, allowing him access. Harwin knew better than to stare (for now), and began kissing the inside of your thighs, making his way towards your cunt. When he finally tasted it, he felt like he was ready to die – until his lady wife scrambled backwards, trying to gather her bearings.

“This is wrong. It’s sinful.” you whispered.

“Not really. Asked my septon when I was a boy, and also, it feels good.” Harwin replied nonchalantly.

“I’ll take you by your word.” you said seriously.

You lied back down, and Harwin held your thighs, trying to make a squeeze somehow feel reassuring before he started again, slowly lapping up the wetness your cunt had produced. He could feel you writhe beneath him, but better yet, he could hear you moan.

Muffled pants and cries reached him, spurring him on. Very cautiously, he pushed in one finger, continuing to lick your clit to ease the way. It went in easier than he thought, and so, Harwin crooked it to make you feel even better.

He wanted to be your first in this as well, and he didn’t care if that was greedy.

He had to push you down by the stomach when your back arched. Harwin chuckled to himself as he worked the finger inside you, knowing exactly what he was doing.

After a while, he could feel your body begin to shake, and your legs wrapped around his head, pushing him down. He almost felt proud of you, even as he began to run out of air, but Harwin kept going, until you came, licking you like a starving man.

When you went limp under his touch, Harwin dared to come up from under your shift.

“And?” he asked.

“Whatever that was… I think I caught a glimpse of the Seven Heavens.” you sighed.

“You… came.” He replied, half-asking.

“Yeah. It was wonderful.”

“Did you never?”

“No. I didn’t dare.” you said.

“That’s a pity, to go so many years of your life without pleasure.”

“I see that now.” you quipped, and Harwin laughed with you.

You sat in silence for a while, you leaning against his shoulder with your eyes closed. Harwin felt that he was hard for you, but he didn’t want to disturb you. He could bed you some other time.

Sated with the knowledge that he had already done this for you, Harwin took off his wedding suit and changed into the long linen trousers that were laid out for him. He could feel your eyes burn into his back. Just to tease you (and not at all to inflate his ego), he flexed his back- and arm muscles.

He settled back into bed, staring at you until you realized you had been caught.

“Does my lady wife approve?”

“Mhm.” you mumbled, shamelessly staring at his chest. “I want another.”

“Another?” Harwin asked.

“Bed me. Make me feel like that again.” you mumbled through gritted teeth. Hesitantly, you let her hand wander under the blankets and into his trousers. His cock was still hard from before, and your eyes widened as you felt the girth of it.

“How will it fit?” you asked.

“You managed two fingers. I’ll help you work it out, but there’ll still be a small stretch.” Harwin tried.

Your hand was still frozen on his dick, so he carefully guided it to stroke him. All word about you rang true, you were a good learner.

Harwin closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall to concentrate on the sensation for a moment, before he stopped you.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Please.” you replied. There was still a residue of nervousness in your eyes, but Harwin wasn’t going to say no to such an invitation.

Slowly, he pulled your shift over her head, tossing it aside carelessly. For a moment, he could only stare, causing you to cross your arms over your chest.

“You’re beautiful.” Harwin said breathlessly. He wasn’t used to being gentle, but Gods be damned, he’d try for you.

Taking his pants off again, he began to kiss your tits, lavishly sucking more bruises into your perfect skin. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him down towards you, and Harwin tried to suppress a groan.

“Good?” you asked.

“Yeah. Really good.” Harwin replied. Your response was to lightly tug his curls, a smirk on your lips. He kissed you again, this time forgetting everything about gentleness and going slowly, swallowing your sounds up with a kiss, desperately holding your face with his hands, dwarfing it in comparison.

His thumb stroked your cheek, trying to convey the awe he already held for you, and you raked your hands through his hair in response. His resolve was melting by the second.

Carefully, he angled his dick up with your cunt, teasing your clit with the tip for a moment, before he slowly sank into you. One of your hands landed on his hips, and Harwin froze.

“Are you alright?” he asked. You stared up at him, wide-eyed, before you nodded.

“Just need a moment.” you managed. Excruciatingly slowly, Harwin sank in further, waiting for you to adjust, until he was fully inside you.

“Can I…?” Harwin began. You nodded, and he pulled back, before thrusting forward with as much self-control as he possessed. He expected you to cry out in pain, but instead, you met him with an unabashed moan.

“Fuck.” you panted, before catching yourself.

“I don’t believe you’ve sworn before.” Harwin managed. You opened your mouth to say something, but he thrust again and your answer was swallowed by another moan.

He tried to put all of his newfound devotion into his thrusts, to make you happy. To satisfy you, so that you would not grow to despise him, at the very least in this way.

All of his intentions of being slow and loving disappeared when you began to beg.

“Please, I need more.” you whispered. Even through the dim candlelight, Harwin saw you blush, but who was he to deny you?

So he picked up the pace, his thrusts turning almost brutish. He would have worried for you, if your eyes hadn’t been in the back of your skull, and your nails weren’t digging into his back.

“Fuck, you’re so.. didn’t expect this.” Harwin managed. You gave him a laugh, which immediately turned into a wanton moan under his ministrations.

“My pretty little wife, legs open only for me.” He praised. Harwin felt your legs wrap around his hips, desperate to create more friction, more intensity.

“Only for you.” You repeat, and Harwin can see the change in your expression, from tense to relaxed. Your posture is open to him (in more ways than one) and his heart almost sings at the thought that you might not despise him or be terrified of him after all.

Harwin manages to steady his mind into looking at you, and Gods, you look fucking angelic. Hair splayed out like a halo, mouth parted and face contorted in pleasure, trying so, so hard to keep your long-lost composure. Nothing feels more right than trying to break that composure, to make you melt into his arms even more.

To give up any thought of propriety and be his.

His thoughts run wild, his heart pounding in his chest with crazed abandon and he can feel himself coming close to the edge. He searches for the bundle of nerves between your legs, hoping to make you scream and when he finds it, it works so well he’s worried the entire Red Keep will hear you after all.

Desperately, he begins to rut into you, watching all coherent thoughts disappear from your eyes as he brings you over the edge a second time. Only then does he allow himself to cum, grabbing your hips harshly until he, too, is spent.

Suddenly exhausted, he rolls off of you, lying next to you and only grabbing your hand.

He turns to face you after a while, you doing the same. Your eyes meet and a smile appears on your flushed face.

“My body feels like it’s filled with lead.” You whisper.

“My lady wife. I never knew I could get this lucky.” He replies. Harwin got out of the bed, trying to find a washcloth. For once, you did not ask any questions, eyes closed in bliss. You let him wipe off the remainder of his seed, burrowing into his side as he lies down next to you.

“You are mine.” You whisper, hearing him chuckle at your words.

“Indeed. I swore it before the Seven just this morning.”

“I think I’m falling in love with you, Ser Harwin.” You sigh.

“So am I, my love.” He replies.

[marthawrites]

"don't shut me out. please"

I hope it is not too late for me to join the celebration ☺️ Congratulations! 💕👏🏼

Thank you sooososo much! You are such a gem and I appreciate all of your fandom love more than you know! I did my best to include a (one shot appropriate) slow burn, angst, and a happy ending. I hope you enjoy this ride MWAH!

Summer's End, Autumn's Beginning

Modern Aemond Targaryen x fem reader

Word Count: 6.3k+

About: A chance encounter with Aemond leads to a whirlwind of emotions. Over the next few months you both fail, in yourselves and in the relationship, and learn from the mistakes.

Includes: Chance encounter, age difference (references to Aemond x Alys) mentions of cheating, allusions to cheating, angst, second chance romance, and smut featuring vaginal fingering, possessive sex, and unprotected protected vaginal sex

Note: Hello lovely reader! This is the longest piece I've wrote in quite awhile - whew! I also feel like it's one of the more ambitious one-shot fics I've worked on/completed. Reader is non-descript. As always, please, enjoy!

read part 2 Between the Covers here

-

I.

There were two things tied for number one on your five-year goal list.

First, be out of your city apartment (preferably as a home owner and not a renter)

Second, have a dog. 

They went hand in hand. One couldn’t happen without the other. So, it was a hard tie and you weren’t willing to budge on either. Until then, to take the edge off your self-proclaimed animal loneliness, you volunteered at a local shelter two nights a week. Mondays and Wednesdays.

While your day job wasn’t a doctor, lawyer, or professional athlete – ones that your family pushed you to have while growing up – it still paid decently and had the potential for career advancement. And! You were able to live on your own. Not having a roommate was worth the dry job description. Besides, your boss was fair and most of your co-workers were friendly; a win win, really.

Tonight, Monday, you finished your shift, went home to change, then headed out to the shelter. Even though it was all volunteer hours you valued punctuality and did your best to get there around the same time each night.

“Hey! You made it!” Arryk called out to you when you stepped inside the building. Chaos sparked all around. He did a great job running and maintaining the schedule, and with the help of volunteers alongside regular staff, it was, more often than not, smooth sailing. Tonight, however, it appeared quite the opposite.

“Hey! Yeah, a few minutes later than usual, sorry!” You said as you walked over to him.

He waved a hand brushing off your apology. “No worries. We had a few people call in today. So, since being short staffed we’re definitely running behind. I know you normally help bathe the dogs with Baela tonight, but can I ask you to do something else instead?” He winced slightly with his question, unsure of your answer. He knew how much you loved Baela and cleaning the dogs!

You squinted at him suspiciously. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, crossing your arms. “You know I won’t administer shots. If I could get over my fear of needles I’d be a veterinarian and not an office worker like I am!” You scrunched your brows before one, all on its own accord, arched up dubiously.

“Ha!” He laughed. “No no no, I know. We have six dogs that need walking tonight. And I don’t think Targaryen can handle all of ‘em.”

“Helaena? She’s back?” You asked, eyes bright with surprise.

“She’s still away for that college trip. It’s her younger brother, Aemond. Have you met him before?”

You’d heard Helaena talk about him, of course, but you’d never met him. Shaking your head, you peered around the shelter looking for anyone else with the Targaryen tell-tale silver-blonde hair. No one caught your eye. “I haven’t. But, I don’t mind.”

“You are a lifesaver!” He praised. “He’s down the west hall getting them ready. Depending on how long you're here afterward, there might be another couple who could use a second walk. Terriers. You know how they are.”

“Happy to help, Arryk!” He was a good guy. You’d always liked him.

“Aemond’s tall, towheaded as the rest of his family, and has an eyepatch. You can’t miss him.” And with that Cargyll switched tasks and got right back to work.

Turning and walking down the west hall, you were happy to say, chaos began to fizzle out. This hall had the larger dogs; no wonder Aemond wouldn’t be able to walk all six at once. Even with the slow turn of summer to autumn sunset wouldn’t be for another three hours. Assuming all went well you’d be able to walk the second batch of dogs, too. 

Down the aisle were five opened doors with each respective dog ready for their walk. Their leashes were hooked onto the door so they couldn’t run amuck. You patted and scratched them, earning yourself more wagging tails, a few happy barks, and some excited licks. Looking to the end of the hall you saw someone who you assumed was your evening walking partner. He was kneeling, talking soothingly to a great big senior hound, while clasping the final buckle of their harness. “Hello, uh-, Aemond?” You called out feeling slightly self-conscious. 

Still kneeling, he turned his head to look up at you. Any softness in his single eye quickly hardened to match the rest of his sharp features. “Hey,” he said, caught off guard by your presence; someone he’d never seen calling him out by name. “Is there something I can help you with?” Slowly, in a single fluid motion, he stood up and the aged dog kept his eyes on him the whole time, panting happily.

Whoa. He was tall. And, at first sight, incredibly good looking: dressed in casual black clothes, long silver hair tied into a braid, with a scar along the left side of his face that you had to tell yourself not to stare at. His mouth was a unique shape, too, and you weren’t sure if he was merely waiting for a response or if he was smirking the tiniest pout at you. “Hi,” you said again with a nervous laugh. You told him your name. “Arryk sent me. Said you could use some help with the walk tonight?” ‘Play it cool, dummy. He’s really handsome, so what? He could be a huge asshole. Play. It. Cool,’ your inner voice said.

Did he have a mechanical eye beneath his patch? The way he looked at you, then, made you feel like he read your thoughts. “Ah. I could certainly use the help,” he said smoothly with a small curve of lip, turning his attention to the three dogs at the front of the hallway. “Wanna take those three?” He asked, looping the big dog’s leash around his wrist. “I mean, you can have any of them as long as I get this guy. He’s my favorite.”

Your pulse raced a little too fast. Clearing your throat, you smiled in an attempt to ease the butterflies in your belly. “I don’t mind. Why is he your favorite?” You turned and began to unclasp leashes from their doors; happy tips and taps of claws growing louder at the pups’ excitement.

“Reminds me of my girl at home,” Aemond replied, adoration clear in his voice. “Big and old, a little stinky, a little slobbery. The best kind, really.”

“Aw, that’s very sweet. I don’t have any pets. I get my fix here,” you laughed. Holding all three dogs in one hand, you pulled the door open with the other. Except, it didn’t open. On instinct, you tried again hoping Aemond didn’t notice.

He strode up next to you with the rest of the dogs in tow, smirking at you for real this time, as he said, “it’s a push door.”

You knew it was a push door. Fuck. He gave you a knowing glance over his shoulder as he walked out, waiting for you to follow along.

II.

You didn’t see Aemond on Wednesday and you couldn’t deny your disappointment when you left for the night. Come to find out you two had been volunteering at the same place for months – only on different days. He tended to be there Tuesdays and Thursdays. 

Monday had been a chance encounter. One you couldn’t shake out of your head. 

Before leaving tonight, however, you took a selfie with Aemond’s favorite old hound. You’d exchanged numbers but hadn’t an excuse to strike up a conversation. Yet. Now, with the selfie as an excuse, you opened a fresh text thread and sent him the photo along with:

Someone missed you tonight! 

While buckling up in your car and getting ready to reverse out of your parking spot, your phone dinged with an incoming message:

Very cute. Will you be there on Monday? Maybe Cargyll will assign up walking duties again.

Your belly flipped. Truthfully, you weren’t expecting him to message back – especially so quickly. Before you could stop yourself you sent back:

Yup! See you then?

And he sent:

I’ll find another excuse to be there. 

Feeling a little bold, you replied:

Excited to see you again! You have these adorable dimples when you smile. Maybe I’ll see those, too?

When nothing came through for a few minutes, you feared you might have gone too far. It was just a little innocent flirting, right? Nothing bad? And then:

Maybe so. See you Monday.

Smiling, you didn’t send anything back. It’d be your luck to say something dumb and rub him the wrong way. 

During your first walk, as soon as the ice broke, you both clicked really well. Hopefully – just maybe – things would flow like that again. The connection you felt, something akin to a liveware, couldn’t have been one-sided. He had to feel a spark of it, too; even if just a little.

You drove home, made dinner while facetiming one of your friends from uni, and when she asked about the spark in your eye you told her about your friend Helaena’s younger brother.

III.

“I seriously cannot believe you’ve never seen The Lord of the Rings. The Hobbit trilogy was a little silly, but watchable. But you haven’t even seen that?” Aemond asked clearly aghast at your lack of understanding his reference.

Tonight, you both got walking duty again and neither of you complained. And, this time, he regarded you with a softer look in his eye than his original sharp glance. He was dressed in dark casuals again and you hated (loved?) how good he made them look. His hair was in a bun and his eyepatch stayed firmly in place. You wanted to ask him about it but weren’t sure if you should try it yet. Instead, you rolled your eyes and laughed. “You’re making it sound better and better the more you talk about it.”

“That’s because it’s the best.” The dogs pulled both of you along and you had to walk brisker than normal to keep up with them and Aemond’s longer legs. He seemed unaffected by it.

“So, you recommend I watch it?” You asked playfully.

“No,” he started, very serious. “I recommend you read it first and then watch the movies.”

If you had more breath in your lungs you’d have giggled – not laughed, but giggled. Something about the way he said it, and the totally serious look on his face, tickled you. “Will you watch them with me?”

The question appeared to catch Aemond off guard. He looked at you, lingering over your pinkened cheeks and smirking lips, before finally making it back to your eyes. Just when he opened his mouth to say something in reply, a completely unrelated thing stole his attention. Sometime during your bantering you’d made it back to the shelter, and a tall dark-haired woman called out, “there’s my sweet Aemond. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you and you haven’t been answering your phone.”

If you thought Aemond attractive, this woman made him look like any regular ol' Joe. She was elegant, warmed by a late summer tan, and had raven dark hair cascading down her back; truly a vision of enchantment. When she sauntered to him and pressed her body to his, you felt like a voyeur watching the embrace.

“Alys,” Aemond breathed quietly. “What do you want?”

“You know what I want,” she answered as she trailed manicured fingers across the front of his chest.

She had a timeless look to her, the kind that concealed her age. She could have been anywhere from twenty-five to fifty, you thought. You really hadn’t a clue. All you knew, now, is that you should finish your task alone.

Aemond’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. Posture tense. “I told you I was busy tonight–”

Before you could stop yourself you cut him off with an awkward wave. “See you later, Aemond.” And, with that, you walked inside before you overheard anything else they might be saying to each other. Turning to glance over your shoulder one last time, you were met with a look of deliberate triumph from Alys; she had the greenest eye you’d ever seen. 

It was haunting.

Driving home, you felt stupid. Aemond was just a guy you just met. It was silly to think someone like him would be single and even sillier to think your innocent flirtations would be working on him. You had half a mind to delete his number. Or, at the very least to delete the short message thread of your texts.

Instead of making dinner like you normally did, you called in delivery and facetimed with your friend as you waited. She immediately knew something was off and you were quick to tell her everything that happened.

Twenty minutes passed and you were starting to feel better. It’s not like you two hooked up or even kissed. It was just a chance meeting with playful banter. Nothing to get shook up about. “Food’s here. Thanks for listening to me. I’ll talk to you later. Love you!” You said as you got up to answer the door. 

When all else failed, your favorite food could always make you feel better.

Turning the tv on and sitting down amongst your couch pillows and blankets, you were getting ready to dig in when your phone rang. 

Aemond. 

Your insides did a weird flip and hunger disappeared entirely from your mind and belly. Should you answer? Let it go to voicemail? Turn the stupid thing off and completely ignore him? Right before the final ring, you decided. “Hello?”

“Hey,” he said, immediately sounding relieved. “I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t yet ready to call it a night with you.”

“It’s no biggie,” you replied. Lying. “I didn’t want to interrupt anything–,” you paused, searching for something else to say to soften the edge of your voice, “–the dogs were getting tired anyway.” God. It sounded stupid even to your own ears.

Aemond sighed through the phone. You wondered if he slid his hand down his face or through his hair. It sounded like he did. “No. Alys is… it’s complicated. She’s my ex and–”

“ –you don’t have to explain anything to me,” you said, cutting him off. “Really. It’s fine.” Despite it being a phone call, you tried to smile as if it would blunt the dismissal of your tone.

“I mean it,” he said. “I really wasn’t ready to say bye yet. What do you say you skip your regular Wednesday night plans and grab a milkshake or something with me?”

Your insides flipped again but for an entirely different reason this time. You knew it: the sparks definitely weren’t one sided. The firm set of Aemond’s jaw and the rigidness of his shoulders flashed once more in your mind’s eye. Since your break up with your long-term boyfriend you’d been on a few dates, but none of them lead to anything worthwhile. With how you and Aemond clicked, however? This date might lead to something more than a hook-up (or, attempt at a hook-up. Some men truly had no game). “Are you sure…?” You asked after a moment. “You and Alys looked pretty comfortable–,”

“ –I’m sure,” it was his turn to cut you off.

“Alright then. Let’s do it.”

IV.

It'd been two months since your first milkshake date with Aemond – the first of many dates. It was a guilty pleasure of yours and apparently one of his, too!

Your first kiss, first time meeting his elder dog, Vhagar, and first time meeting his family were all memories you cherished. 

The more you learned about Aemond’s relationship with Alys, the more you understood it "complicated". Including Targaryen drama, Targaryen business, and a list of other things you had a hard time following. It didn’t matter anymore, though, Aemond reassured you. Things were done between them and he only wanted you; proving it to you with fingers and mouth until you begged for a break.

A lesson you learned from your last relationship – one Aemond learned from his, too – was to be careful with love. As much as you genuinely enjoyed him and his company, a barrier stood between you that neither dared yet to cross.

Love.

Each day you fell for him a little more; you were scared to admit it. The scar of heartbreak healed slowly. Could you truly trust Aemond with that part of yourself? With the very essence of your heart? It’d been two months and you still weren’t entirely sure.

If he felt the same he’d say something, right?

Autumn blanketed the lands with brisk air, rainy days, and rolling fog. As days grew short and nights long, you and Aemond spent more time at your apartment or his quarter at the Targaryen estate. Your apartment was the clear favorite. Living alone had its perks: never having to worry about nosy family or friends who showed up unannounced.

And thank God you didn’t live with anyone else. 

"Mmh… fuck, baby, I've been thinking about this all day. I can't get enough of you. Let me make my girl feel good," he said against your mouth as one of his hands moved up the inside of your thigh. "Are you wet already? I bet you are," he chuckled, fingertips tracing your slit. "Mmm… I knew it. Your clit is sooo needy, isn't it?" 

Shit. Those hushed words, the glint in his eye, his rasped tone… you happily indulged him in whatever way he wanted. And him, you. Fingers, mouth, cock, he quickly learned what tricks made you melt. 

As much as he loved having you ride him, or bending you over, his absolute favorite was fucking you into the mattress. You sprawled out beneath him, hair messy and fanned out around your head, legs wrapped tight around his waist, fingernails on his body… he could never get enough of your blushed face beneath him, trembling and arching as he pushed you to peak after peak.

Your sheets had never been cleaned so often in your entire life.

It was particularly rainy today and you were both finished with everything on your to-do list. Aemond sat on the floor in front of you as you lounged in your overstuffed chair. You told him you'd read the Lord of the Rings as long as he read it to you. He didn't even pretend to be annoyed by your bargain. He read to you from his own collection, claiming he liked the worn feeling of the pages better than a new book's pages. 

Like any proper reader Aemond started with The Hobbit. You enjoyed it more than you thought you would. More so than the story, however, you enjoyed him reading aloud to you – he had the loveliest voice. You were about half way through The Fellowship of the Ring and the story continued to get better.

But, all afternoon, Aemond's phone never stopped going off. It seemed like every few minutes it would ping with some kind of notification. "Who's blowing you up?" You asked, annoyance creeping into your tone.

Stopping mid sentence, he looked. "Alys," he sighed as he scrolled through the various messages. 

You tried to not look over his shoulder to the texts. You really did. But there was something about Aemond's shift in posture, and the air around him, that made you suspicious. "What's going on?" You asked in your best nonchalant manner.

"She's asking if I have some of her clothes at my place still," he answered and you swore you saw pink spread atop his cheeks.

That caught you off guard. "Why would she have clothes–"

And whatever else you were going to say was abruptly cut off.

There, in a new string of messages, was the single text line, "I miss you, baby boy," followed by at least three photographs of Alys in lingerie and various stages of undress. 

"What the fuck Aemond!?" You asked, anger and hurt instantly warming your blood. "What the hell were those? Are you fucking joking?"

"I have no idea why she sent–"

" –is that why she left clothes at your place? Couldn't let her go for real? Jesus Christ I can't believe you." Anger flushed your face and bittered your words.

"Listen, please. Hear me out, bab–"

" –oh fuck off, Aemond, you don't get to 'babe' me around anymore. In fact, just leave."

He looked as hurt as you. And shocked. A hundred emotions played across his chiseled features. "No, really. Let me explain," he pleaded with eye and tone.

You weren't having it. You were cheated on before and he knew it. It made your own hurt cleave even deeper. You really fucking liked him. Maybe even loved him. And this whole time he had you and Alys? "I'm seriously about to get really fucking angry. Leave. Now."

He stood and left. Silent fury screamed around him like a whirlwind. He didn't even give you one final look over his shoulder.

He shut your door with a deliberate click.

You curled up in your blanket alone as fat ugly tears streamed down your face. You couldn't be bothered to grab a tissue for your snotty nose. 

Aemond's leather jacket was still draped over the back of your couch and his book still lay on the floor. Your crying somehow turned uglier at the realization.

Eventually you dozed off. With Aemond, you always had your phone on silent so you didn't hear all his missed calls and texts.

V.

The following month went by in a blur; you drowned yourself in work. You also stopped volunteering because you didn't want to give Aemond the opportunity to meet you there. By some feat of strength you ignored all his attempts at talking – and by proxy, apologizing.

The only thing you said to him was a single text:

I need time. Please understand

Part of you wondered how it affected him. His calls and texts became sparse until they eventually stopped.

Helaena asked where you'd been and you felt horrible lying to her. So, you didn't. After telling her the story she sighed and asked if you'd want to grab tea. You agreed. Meeting her at a local cafe allowed you to air out your feelings; laughs and tears alike. She was kind, and sweet, and supportive without being passive. She loved her brother but knew he had many of his own issues. You'd been friends for over a year and this was the first true heart to heart you shared.

Upon returning home you picked up the Fellowship and tried to read from where Aemond left off. But, it wasn’t the same without him and it only made you cry. Again.

VI.

The following morning, despite your car's newer model, it barely wanted to start for your drive to work. By a stroke of luck you made it there fine. And, made it back home that evening, too. But that was the end of your luck. It needed to be picked up and taken to a shop until a mechanic could see it.

Carless, you had to rely on Uber or public transportation. Yuck.

A few days of stress passed and now you were done for the week. Thank God for weekends. Unfortunately your groceries were extremely low and you would need to make a trip in the morning. You sighed and used it as an excuse to order pizza.

After waking up and a breakfast of (the last, and past its sell-by date) packet oatmeal you got around to make the walk to the nearest grocery store. Knowing you'd be walking home, too, the list was small. Carrying bags up two flights of stairs was hard enough, much less carrying them home a mile!

On the way back it started sprinkling. Great. Just great. You started walking faster with hopes of making quicker time than your leisurely stroll to the store. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, you heard your name called. Was that…? Stopping in your tracks you looked across your shoulder to the side of the road and saw none other than Aemond. You knew his car and voice anywhere. You didn't have to see yourself to know a dozen emotions played across your face.

"Hey," he said gently, his own features a mirror of yours.

"Hi," you said.

"Why are you walking in the rain with groceries?"

Slumping your unintentionally scrunched up shoulders, you sighed. "Stupid car died on me and it's been with the mechanic for almost a week."

He smiled softly. So soft. The outside of his seeing eye crinkled and emotion rushed to your chest. Your gut. "You're way too good to be walking alone. Let me drive you home at least?" 

You didn't resist. How could you? "Alright. Sure. Just dropping me off though, okay?" Guilt panged your chest. Did he feel it too? Could he read it on your face he knew so well?

"Alright," he answered, expression falling just slight. You might as well have stomped on his foot with how it affected you.

I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry. Can we try it again? Can I hold your hand? God I love your hair in a ponytail. You smell good. Did you see the trailer for that new horror movie? I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry. It all turned around your head like a fucking rotisserie chicken. It shouldn't be so hard to say any of those things to him. But it was.

You didn't say anything on the short ride home. Neither did he. His right hand flexed a few times and you wondered if he was having a hard time, too.

"Can you get it all upstairs?" He asked as he pulled into an empty spot and parked, looking across to you with horribly concealed emotion.

"Yes, but…," you trailed off momentarily, trying to read his face. "I still have your book and jacket. Wanna come up and grab them?" You asked hopefully.

He killed the engine faster than you could blink. "Yes! So that's where they've been. You could have mentioned it sooner," he said slightly accusingly, grinning at you with a spark of playfulness.

Leading the way upstairs to your apartment, you unlocked the door and disappeared inside. After placing your items down and grabbing Aemond's, you turned to look at him standing in the doorway. He leaned against it. Waiting. Quiet. He glanced around with a wistfulness that made your throat tight. You watched him watching you and your home until the air became awkward – was it half a second, a few seconds, longer? You weren't sure. 

Slowly you walked over to him. Your gaze flickered up at him as you handed his things back. "Were you ever going to tell me the truth?" You asked. "Did you think I really wouldn't find out? Why did you stick around if I wasn't good enough?"

He blinked. Taken back. "You never even gave me the chance to explain." His jaw feathered before it tightened. His eye hardened.

You grabbed the door, fixing to close it on him. Now that you started talking – unloading pent up questions which kept you tossing and turning at night – you couldn't decide if you wanted to slam it on his face or yell. "I told you how I was cheated on! And you did it anyway! I trusted you, Aemond." Your voice thinned, sounding shrill even to your own ears.

One of his hands braced on the door so you couldn't close it on him. "So this is your revenge then, huh? Punishing both of us? Why don't you trust me?" Hurt and fury simmered in the lovely hue of his eye. A storm. No, a hurricane. "Alys and I have been done for months. Months. Even before you and I met. I'm sorry for what she did but I can’t control what she does. She was playing her wicked games trying to sabotage us– you and me. Don't shut me out. Please." 

He pleaded, every pore and line of his face begging for forgiveness. As each word came off his tongue they clicked into place in your head. He meant it. He was telling the truth. Before you could stop yourself your fists balled into the front of his shirt, pulling him down so your mouth crashed up to his. "You mean it?" You asked through the kiss.

Instantly he leaned down into you, and instantly he held onto your waist pulling you deeper against him. His other hand cradled the side of your face daring to curve along the shape of your skull. "I mean it. Yes I fucking mean it," he answered against the kiss; breath stealing yours away until it left you in a little moan.

You pulled him inside and shut the door, locking it. You moaned as he nipped and bit at your neck. Your heart thumped wildly. He sucked at the sensitive skin, again and again, pulling away just before leaving a mark. "God, Aem,” you whimpered. Goosebumps covered your body. The only thing on your mind was him.

"Fuck, I missed you. I missed you so much." His hands were somehow all over you all at once. His mouth trailed, and dragged, and kissed over any exposed portion of your skin. He happily pulled off layers of your clothing to expose more and more of your soft, warm, saccharine flesh; intoxicating him. After weeks of your separation the last thing he wanted to do was to push too far too fast.  “Can I take this off?” He asked before taking your shirt off.

“Yes,” you replied breathily. “Fuck it. Take all of it off. I missed you too. So much,” you said as you helped pull his clothes off, too. He pushed you against a wall. You kissed. Heavier, and hotter, and hungrier. You pushed him against a wall. 

He gasped as he smirked. “I love when you act all tough when we both know I can have you squirming under me in minutes,” he growled, pupil swelling. The dimples at the very corners of his mouth betrayed his amusement, however, as he once again pushed you against the wall. You were both only in your underwear, now, and his lean body on yours had you aching. “My tough girl… how quickly do you think it’ll last when my fingers are in you?”

“Why don’t we find out?” You asked defiantly, knowing damn well it wouldn’t last long at all. By now you were both down the hallway and your bedroom was only a couple feet away. You needed him. Now. And judging by how fucking hard he was he needed you too.

The next moment went by in a blur and before you could catch yourself you were sprawled out on your back atop your bed. Aemond made quick work of moving you both inside, and made quicker work of pulling your panties down. He groaned as your thighs immediately spilled open for him. He dragged two fingers up your slit and circled your clit with your arousal. “Shit–,” he hissed. “Never make me wait so long to have this pussy again. Do you understand me? Never,” he said as he worked your already swollen clit. He played with it just how he knew you liked it and your cunt’s tiny wet sounds sent his cock throbbing. “Answer me.”

Tension built in the low muscles of your belly. Your legs began to tighten already – one of the tell-tale signs of your approaching climax. How the hell could he push you there so quickly? “N-never! Ahh-h never again!” You replied, voice light, and sweet, and tantalizing as any sin Aemond ever knew. “Please, Aemond, I want to cum…!”

He shoved those same two fingers into you. “Good girl,” he said as he curled those fingers. “This pussy is mine. All fucking mine. Give it to me,” he said huskily as he worked them in and out of you. It was sloppy and wet. Borderline obscene. Each time he slammed his hand against you he was mindful to press the heel of his palm against your clit and your mound, knowing how the extra pressure sent your pretty toes curling.

You cried out his name as your eyes clenched shut. The tension in your belly snapped and a wave of glorious bliss washed over you. Sweat sheened between your breasts and along your lip. You arched, quivered, shuddering in the aftermath of his intensity. 

Aemond’s mouth crashed to yours and you threaded your fingers through the roots of his hair. It was still in a ponytail and you had no mind to take it out, you just had to pull him deeper into the kiss. He tasted the salt of your sweat and groaned. “Relax your pussy, baby, you’re clenching me really hard. It feels amazing but I don’t wanna hurt you pulling out,” he said tenderly, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck.

“Sorry,” you giggled. “Just feels too good.” You tried to steady your breath and relax as he laid beside you, continuing to kiss your neck and shoulders. When your spongy walls finally eased around him you were sad to feel him withdraw. Stress melted away from your subconscious and you wanted to thank him for the pleasure. You wondered if your eyes said it while he looked at you.

Leaning up, he discarded the final piece of his clothing and sighed in relief as his cock sprang free. He got between your thighs and looked down at you hungerily. “Look at you all doe eyed already. See? I knew you couldn’t stay tough for long,” he said, smug, as he lined up with your drenched cunt. He held one of your legs up against him, and you pressed the other against his side. 

When you left for the store this morning you had no idea your afternoon would go in this direction.

He pushed into you. Inch by inch he sunk into you and soon he was as deep as he could be. A moan escaped both of you, and a throatier one left him when his free hand tugged at your bra. It was one that clipped in the front. He popped it open and rocked into you as soon as your tits spilled free. "You're so sexy like this."

With your body already sensitive from your first orgasm, and now with Aemond building a rhythm between your thighs, you weren't going to last long. "You feel so good," you purred, eyelids heavy. "Fuck I missed you."

Another sound left his chest and when you wrapped your legs around his slim waist you swore you felt goosebumps pebble all along his skin. Or, maybe those were your goosebumps on your legs. Whatever the case, Aemond leaned forward and kissed you again. "I missed you too," he rumbled. "Gonna let me fill this pretty pussy with my cum again?"

You two made good use of your birth control and you weren't about to deny him – or yourself – the pleasure of being thoroughly fucked and stuffed. "Y-yeah," you stammered, smiling.

Aemond mumbled something incoherent into your neck, and if your brain wasn't foggy from his perfect fucking cock you might have caught what he said. 

He leaned up and supported himself on his forearms, pressing his forehead to yours. "You're my girl. You're my fucking girl. You're my fucking girl," he repeated again and again until the pace of his thrusts grew sloppy. Somehow the sloppiness of it, the neediness and urgency of his voice, sent emotion swelling in all of you.

Heat collected and grew out from your spine, webbing throughout your entire body. You clung to him desperately. You rolled your hips up into him and shamelessly grinded your clit against his pelvis as he drove in and out of you. It was all too much. You crumbled beneath him and let orgasm take control of you. The depths of your body squeezed and convulsed around him, holding him tight and soaking the fullness of his length with your slick. He never stopped or paused his thrusts. 

His own peak followed. Once he was as deep as he could be he released everything he had into you. He stayed there, both of you panting through little moans, until he no longer twitched between your stretched walls. Slowly, he pulled out, and slowly, his seed dribbled out of you. Grinning, he rolled onto his back and scooped you against him.

"Let's stay here like this all day," you mumbled happily, fingertips trailing up and down his abdomen and chest.

"You'll get no argument from me," he said.

Quiet minutes passed and the sound of his heart nearly put you into a trance. "I'm sorry for how I acted," you finally admitted.

All the while he'd been petting and trailing his fingers through your hair. He didn't stop as he answered, "and I'm sorry for not trying harder." He kissed your forehead and held you tighter.

"Let's try it again. For real this time. With the titles and commitment and everything."

"Are you asking or telling me to be your boyfriend?"

You smirked. "I'm suggesting."

Returning your smirk, he pulled you atop him so you could straddle him. "You're all mine," he said with a dark eye. "My perfect girl." 

Leaning down, you kissed and nipped his bottom lip. "Are you already hard again, Aemond Targaryen?"

A chuckle rumbled somewhere in his chest as his touch dented into your hips to hold you at just the right angle. With a roll of his hips he pushed himself up inside you again. "Whose cock is this?"

You gasped, eyes darkening with another round of lust. "Mine."

"That's right. Yours. Not anyone else's. It's fucking yours."

You rode him until your tits were covered in fresh hickies and you were filled with another load of him.

Yours. His. The second chance you both needed.

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

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Masterlist

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[sencrose]

— WHO ARE YOU, REALLY?

pairing: naoya zenin x f!reader, implied feelings involving naomaki

tags: dead dove do not eat. dubcon, angst?, reader is described as having a similar appearance to maki (mostly in hairstyle), incestuous undertones, physical abuse (against maki, sorry queen) established relationship, throatfucking, no prep, rough sex, pain during sex, (condescending) praise, hair pulling, internalized misogyny

wc: 3.2k

summary: You do not know what your husband sees in you. For better or worse, you learn.

a/n: back on my writing horrible things about naoya bullshit!! ngl this was weird to write but i also had a lot of fun with it. big thank you to @blueparadis for beta reading this for me <3 please read the tags and proceed with caution. ao3 link here

tagging: @pixelcafe-network @jellyfishsart

You do not know what your husband sees in you. 

It is not that you are without merit, but you are, simply put, plain. A weed in a field of flowers in full bloom. The diet that follows after a bad bout of the stomach flu. A satellite in the night sky that might be mistaken for a star — until it glides past far too quickly to be one, much to an onlooker’s disappointment. 

You know what power the Zen’in clan holds. The kind of power where even the most upstanding of sons will poison their fathers just for a taste. The paranoia that comes with it, the rumors of potential traitors whispered between paper doors is enough to keep anyone on edge. 

With all of that in mind, you know in your heart of hearts you are not the type of person the next head of the clan would pursue. 

Yet you were told he picked you out by hand, out of the dozens of matchmaking papers given to him. Applicants that began and ended on ink, their names, birthdays, and occupations, were discarded without a care of who they were, or who they could have been. 

What an honor, you were told. 

So you packed up your things with a judgemental eye, preparing yourself for the worst when you arrive. Would they let you keep a stuffed animal that was a birthday gift from a friend, or is that too childish? What about this shirt — is it conservative enough or will it bring unwanted attention?

You left most things behind. 

—

Every now and then, you recall a conversation you had with your mother shared over a plate of cut fruit, shortly before you received the news from the Zen’in clan. It comes to you whenever you see the young girls rushing through the corridors, hands holding a stack of sheets that tower over them. 

“Do you have any dreams?” she asked, carving the skin of an apple, the crimson peel spiraling under her skillful thumb, “Ambitions?”

She tended to ask this now and then. It’s natural, you assumed; a mother’s desire to know anything and everything there is to know about their child. 

It’s hard to remember or keep track of all the answers you’ve given her. All you know is that they’ve become less ambitious over the years. From huffing your chest out and saying you’ll be an astronaut who lives out in the stars with the profound confidence only a child could have, to something less spectacular, more mundane. 

You didn’t have much luck becoming a sorcerer, which shrunk your options. Maybe you’d go to school. Maybe get a degree, get some kind of corporate job, waste your life away in a gray office cubicle. 

But none of those are dreams. Obligations, perhaps.

“No, not really,” you replied, detached from the conversation. It was the truth. 

She patted you on the back, comfortingly. “Ah, that’s a good thing. You don’t want to be greedy.”

You still don’t know what she meant by that, but you also made no effort to ask for clarification. The words simmered low and steady until it burned and branded itself in your head.

As if to pull you out of your thoughts, your mother handed you a slice, an offering. Despite her words, you wondered if it was consolation. 

—

Even after some time has passed since your arrival, you do not know what your husband sees in you. You’re not sure he sees you at all. 

His touch is few and far between. 

To your surprise, on the night of your wedding you did not consummate your marriage. It happened two weeks after, and it was not what you expected from someone who had supposedly picked you out on his own accord. 

It was anything but gentle. You learned quickly that Naoya Zen’in is not a patient man.

Rough hands were grabbing anywhere, everywhere. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was trying to devour you. 

Nothing placated him. When you gazed up at him teary-eyed with soft pleas to go slower, you only made things worse. Hands grabbed onto your form to flip you over, push your face into the sheets so he didn’t have to hear your protests. Fingers pressed deep into the dip of your waist, so hard you worried about bruises forming (they did). 

Once he got what he wanted out of you, he tossed you to the side. As if you were some random girl he just happened to pick up for the night, someone he hoped would be gone come morning. 

As if you weren’t his wife. 

It was the first time in a long time that you realized, maybe, you had wants. Desires. To do something instead of having something done onto you. 

But your mother’s words haunt you. 

You don’t want to be greedy. 

—

For the first time since arriving at the estate, you have a hint of what your husband sees in you.

You don’t think you’re supposed to see it. You don’t think you’re supposed to be here at all.  

A girl lies on the floor of the open courtyard, her head underneath Naoya’s heel.

It’s like looking into a mirror, though a bit distorted. The image is similar, but the puzzle pieces filling in the gaps are all different.

Her hair is much like yours, though the strands that frame her face hang like blades, sharpened, ready to cut anyone who gets too close. 

You don’t have that type of intensity around you. The pieces of hair that frame your face soften your features. Wispy, uncertain shapes that blow away with the slightest puff of wind. 

The similarities start and end there. 

Though she’s younger than you, she wears a hardened expression, one you always thought would come to you with age. You realize now that you must’ve had it easy when you see how she wears it like it’s all she’s ever known. 

Although you go unnoticed by your husband, the girl acknowledges your presence. Her gaze meets yours, fury ablaze in her eyes, along with something else you don’t recognize. Your legs react before you even realize, taking a step back. 

Even with her body pressed into the ground in submission, you can tell she is anything but. It’s written candidly on her face, teeth bared to the world, begging for flesh to dig into.

Your husband must be a blind fool. Even you can see from a distance that she’s a wild animal in human form, just waiting for a chance to break the chains of her enclosure. You feel it in her stare, how she strips you down to a state even Naoya hasn’t witnessed. You don’t like it. How her eyes hone in on you like a lion staring down its prey.

Then again, would you even be considered prey? Even a rabbit has a fighting chance at running away. You do not know how to run. Not towards a goal, and certainly not away from danger.

But you can still walk. Walk while you can and you can forget you’ve ever seen this. Stuff it back in the recesses of your mind, back where you wrote off wants and desires and greed all those years ago.

You don’t walk away fast enough.

When you hear her name slip from your husband’s lips, your stomach freefalls. 

You haven’t been at the estate for long, but you know of her. Everyone does. You just never had the chance to put a name to a face. Maki Zen’in, one half of the clan disappointment, alongside her twin sister. It goes without saying that you also know of the ties that connect them.

You know your husband is a cruel man. He has to be; it’s practically a requirement for someone of his power and status. But it’s hard to watch when it’s laid out so plainly in front of you. Even so, you stay.

You watch with a tightness in your chest as he pulls her up by the base of her ponytail before throwing her back onto the ground, gravel and dust dispersed in the air from the impact.

Anger lights a fire in his eyes. No matter what he does, he doesn’t seem to get the reaction he wants, or much of a reaction at all. She takes it in stride, only emitting hushed grunts when he kicks her. While you flinch at the volume of his voice rising, she boldly sneers at his frustration.

You meet her eyes again. 

She laughs. 

It isn’t to piss off Naoya. No, it’s directed at you. The bystander who’ll go on with her day like nothing ever happened, even after witnessing the horrific abuse doled out at the hands of her husband.

Even though she doesn’t hold an ounce of cursed energy in her veins, you know what she thinks of you. You hear it in the dry chuckle she lets out before Naoya kicks her again.

You’re cursed. 

How pitiful. 

—

You’re sure he’s ranting about something, maybe something Naobito did, but you can’t bring yourself to listen to him. All you can think about is the girl in the courtyard, with an ire in her eyes you’ve never seen before. When was the last time you looked like that? Felt something so intense it radiated off of your very being, so bright and radiant it couldn’t be ignored? Have you ever had that kind of fighting spirit in you?

A stagnant silence brings you back. You vacantly stare back at your husband. It was your turn to speak for once. You perk up at the opportunity, though you’re unsure how to seize it.

“Sorry. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”

“Well that’s the thing, isn’t it? You don’t need to say anything. C’mere.”

He pulls you in closer, his hand petting your head. It’s the only time he shows any semblance of gentleness, a cruel way of lulling you into a false sense of security. You know what comes next. His hand presses against your head, lower, lower, until you’re nestled against his crotch. Naoya looks at you, expectantly. 

Your fingers wrap around the cotton ties that hold his hakama pants, pulling with a tug. From there, the fabric falls easily, more so once you reach around his waist to undo the tension from the straps. 

You steel yourself to do what you’ve always done, though something sits in the back of your mind. 

You get him to groan with a long stroke of your tongue on the underside of his cock. Build yourself up to taking his entire length into his mouth, inch by dreadful inch, but it’s hard. By the time you swallow him whole, you can feel his tip pressing against the back of your throat. You do your best to service him at a pace he’d be satisfied with, one you know is out of your skillset, dribbling spit and coughing softly whenever you go too deep.

But Naoya isn’t satisfied. He’s impatient, his fingers weaving through your hair, pulling tight before he quickens your pace to his own liking. It’s something you still haven’t gotten used to. The burning in your eyes, the gross wet sounds that leave your mouth as he bobs your head up and down like a toy.

“Fuck, you’re perfect. Take me in so well, don’t you?” His grip around your hair tightens.

He continues recklessly fucking your throat, ignoring all of the choked cough and garbled yelps you let out whenever he hits the back of your throat. All you can do is take it, ball your fists and fold your thumbs in, and hope that trick you learned about reducing your gag reflex isn’t just some urban legend.

Naoya removes yourself from him as roughly as he places you onto him. The rush of air is both a welcome one and sudden change, and you gasp and cough at the sensation.

“Wife,” He brandishes the title like a weapon, the blade of a dagger pressed against your neck.

“Tie your hair up for me, won’t you?” he poses it as a question, but you know you have no choice in the matter. 

Time freezes.

Your eyes shift and you find yourself fiddling with your fingers, hoping he will change his mind if you look up at him with a disarming plea in your eyes, but his gaze does not falter. His eyes only get darker, a dangerous amber that glows like a warning sign in the lowlight of your shared chamber, as he awaits you to fulfill his request. 

Maybe your husband doesn’t see you, but you have always seen him for who he is, even if you didn’t want to admit it. It shines more than ever, when he tilts his head and the corners of his lips upturn. A snake carefully wrapping itself around a rat, just one good squeeze away from keeping you in his clutches forever. Once again, you’re trapped and frozen with nowhere to go. Unfortunately, you play your part well without trying.

You shouldn’t be surprised. It probably runs in their blood.

Slowly, you tie your hair up, strands spilling between your fingertips as you pick them up again, gathering and pulling through the hair only halfway through the elastic, an unstable, floppy bun.

You don’t want to be greedy.

A ghost of unspoken words from your mother whispers against your ear, and maybe if you caught on a bit sooner, things would be different. What was she trying to tell you? What did she hold behind her tongue so cautiously?

Because that’s not how I raised you?

Because that’s not a woman’s place?

Because that’s not what makes a good wife?

But none of it sounds quite right.

And though the thoughts swirl and cloud your head, something else rings bright and clear through the murkiness. 

You want. You want to be wrong. You want it with an intensity you’ve never felt before in your life, a desire clawing its way out of your chest, desperate to see the light of day. 

It’s a good thing. You don’t want to be greedy.

Naoya gently tugs on the loop of hair with his fingers, almost intimately, and it makes your stomach curl. He pulls apart the strands in half to tighten it, until a ponytail reminiscent of the one you saw earlier today sits on top of your head. 

It is only in this moment the clouds in your mind disperse, the addendum your mother wanted to add clear as day.

Because all you will be left with is disappointment.

Even though you’re filled with unease, you follow his lead because it’s all you’ve ever known. He pulls on the waistband of your skirt before pushing his hand against your back, getting you in position to arch for him. 

His fingers drag against your slit, before sliding two of them inside your hole, ignoring any initial resistance. Another thing you learned about your husband is that he’s a determined man; to your dismay, it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t fit, he’ll make it fit. Even the stretch of his digits is uncomfortable, scissoring them inside you just to hear you whine under his touch. You wince when he withdraws them, tighten up when you feel something hot and hard pressed against you.

There’s no getting used to his size. Even if he took the time to prepare you properly, you’re sure it would still hurt – if not at the initial penetration, then at the frenzied thrusts that come shortly after. His plump cockhead nudges teasingly against your hole, poking and proding before pulling away. He likes to keep you on your toes, hear you whimper when he surprises you a rough thrust. 

Something about him seems more impatient than usual.

He pushes himself into you, and you bite down on your lip as he splits your walls apart in one swift movement. Over the course of your marriage, you’ve learned to wait out the pain, keep your breathing steady until he starts to move. But his pace never stays slow for long. It’s only a short moment before his hips slam into yours faster and you have to weave through the sheets and grip for stability.

“Naoya, ‘s too much,” you whine, voice high pitched and on the edge of sounding needy.

Without warning his hands wrap around your ponytail and he pulls tight. The sharp pain makes you wince, arch your back until you’re pressed flush against his chest.

“Talking back, are we?” he quips back.

“No, no, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you say, hushed and quiet. 

You don’t think he accepts your apology, not when he tugs a bit harder and gives you a thrust so deep it knocks the air out of your lungs. Whether he accepts it or not, he’s still enjoying himself. You hear it in the groans he lets out whenever he hits you deep inside and you moan at the impact, feel it in the way his other hand kneads your breast before giving your nipple a tug.

“You like this, don’t you?”

You wonder if his words are actually directed towards you, but you don’t think too hard about your response, falling back on your default mode of placating him.

“Mhm,” you hum softly.

“Then you won’t mind if I go harder, right?” he asks, but he doesn’t give you a chance to respond. There’s no smooth transition, he simply goes straight into fucking you harder.

His pace is dizzying, the slap of skin-to-skin echoing throughout the room as he fucks you.

He only gets louder and more desperate as his hips slam into yours. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him like this before. It makes your mind race, makes you wonder if he’s holding back his tongue to call out another name whenever he hums a bit too long in pleasure. Each sound he makes causes your heart to skip in terror and anticipation, but you never hear it. Still, it trembles. 

“Be a bit louder for me, ok?” he whispers in the shell of your ear. His hand traces down from your chest to your waist, lower until it reaches your aching clit. “I’ll even treat you tonight.”

The unexpected contact pushes you further into him, sends a shiver of tension up your spine. You don’t want to admit the pleasure boiling up in you, not like this, but your body doesn’t give you much of a choice. Your lips are the first line of defense to fall, high pitched moans you don’t recognize spilling so easily, naturally, as if it’s water leaking from a faucet.

Maybe he thinks you’re enjoying yourself just a bit too much, because the grip on your hair tightens once again. But it doesn’t stop the rush of warmth building up in your stomach, from your muscles tightening to prepare for your impending climax.

“Nao, I’m close, I’m close-”

Shame washes over you along with your orgasm, walls fluttering against his cock, as he fucks you through it. Naoya’s own climax follows shortly after yours, his hips thrusting harder until he stills with a shaky groan. 

Only once he removes himself from you, you collapse on to the bed, body spent. You cautiously reach for the hair tie, looking over at Naoya as you pull it out with a soft tug. He doesn’t stop you. 

You know what your husband sees in you.

You wish you didn’t see it too. 

[sexydoffyman]

Ik it's like many days from now but for the age gap could you do price👀?

(x male)

With soft gentle smut, nothing too wild, a bit of angst, and lots of fluff

Please and thank youuuu

day 29 - AGE GAP

John Price

male reader

navigation

genre: smut

mdni

A/N: Sorry for the late post. Also, didn't know how to add angst in there, but I can make a new fic with some fluff and angst.

You were quite a young lad to join such a dangerous task force as the 141, but you were exceptionally skilled. Price has a tendency to adopt strays to his team. People who don't really fit anywhere. People who joined the military in search of a way to forget their past.

Laswell saw your file and immediately knew that you'd be the kind of person John would want. He was given your files first, getting scared that Laswell would even think of putting someone so young to such a dangerous task.

She only asked him to go see you for himself. He did as she told him and understood. You were a balloon packed with emotions that were ready to come out in the form of fuel to your never-ending energy. He had seen a lot of soldiers who had been bottling up their emotions, but none of them were able to use them in such a creative way.

He took a liking to you, and eventually, you were assigned to the task force. You weren't all cold. You just needed your time to find out if you want to be around a certain person or not.

You warmed up to them and were happy that you could share a laugh with someone. Although you loved it there, you noticed a certain someone staring in a different way than others. John was staring at you like he wanted to spend the night with you.

It amused you for many reasons. You never imagined that he'd be gay, but what was bugging you a little more than that was his age. You were in the belief that older men liked more mature people than people like you. You chuckled at the fact that John had a taste for the young blood.

Thanks to your young spirit, you decided to fuck with him a little. Giving him smiles every now and then. Patting him on the shoulder more often. And touching his hand, then winking at him when you were in the mood.

He realised what you were doing pretty quickly. He was a little annoyed, but holy shit, you don't know what you're doing to him. He is unable to focus with his hard-on. He has you on his mind almost all the time.

You enjoyed every second of it. That playful young mind inside of you wanted more. You wanted him to do something. Anything. You didn't want it you needed it. You wanted him to flirt back. Or to order you to fuck off.

It was excruciating that you weren't able to get a single reaction out of him. And at the same time, it made you want to chase your goal harder. You were really ambitious when it came to Price. You were chasing his approval like you chased the approval from your dad. The one you never truly got.

He noticed your chase and found it strangely adorable. Even tho he always gave you the cold shoulder, you never gave up. That was what attracted him the most.

It was a cold night, a very cold night. The heating system at the smaller base where you and the task force were stationed was broken. Hell, it probably never worked in the first place.

You were just at the smoke pit alone. You held a cigarette in your fingers and sat there on a rusty old guardrail. You were looking deep into the cold, dark night. You suddenly heard his voice.

"Aint ya too young for that?" He asked in a cocky tone. You ignored him completely which was fairly surprising since normally you'd be going at him already.

He observed you. You were shivering and all you wanted to do was to find a warm place to rest. He sat down next to you, flicking the cigarette out of your hand. You looked at him annoyed and he just laughed.

"You cold?" He asked you as if it wasn't obvious. You rolled your eyes to which he responded "I can make you warm." He even whispered it. That asshole. You shivered as a blush appeared on your face. You never expected him to make the first move. You were the one who always went to lick his feet.

You finally understood. He enjoyed it. Before you could think about it more he got up and said "Common now." He walked away and you ran after him, trying to catch up.

You were in front of his room, which he opened for you to get in. You waited for him to get in, not wanting to be rude. "Common, don't be shy." He was always able to turn people's actions against them due to his profession. What was different was that it wasn't him being an asshole. It was more of a teasing way.

You sat on his bed, and he sat next to you. You were still shivering, unable to control your body. He found a perfect opportunity to act. He pulled you down on the bed, pulling a blanket over you. He warmed you up by rubbing his hand on your arms.

The blanket caught the heat, and since you didn't want to be cold again, you were basically stuck with him. Not that you minded it or anything. He pulled you into his embrace, his hand exploring your thighs.

It got hotter very quickly. You decided to also make a move rather than just staying completely still. You moved your leg for him to have better access to you. He immediately took the hint and went for your belt.

He softly unbuckled your pants and put his hand inside them, feeling around your boxers. He played with you, and you could do nothing, then melt into his arms. He knew what he was doing. He doubled you in age, after all. (I believe his cannon age is 35, but let's pretend that he's 40+. Just for the sake of the fic.)

He knew right where to touch you, using only your almost unnoticeable reactions. He used his leg to pull your pants down completely and moved on top of you. He put his fingers under the waistband of your boxers, lifting them up.

"You ever done this before, darlin~?" You shook your head. You weren't a virgin, but this was your first time with a man, so you didn't know what to expect.

He chuckled, whispering "Tell me when it hurts." He said it like he knew it was not gonna be all sunshine and rainbows. You got prepared with his statement.

He pulled down your boxers and unbuckled his own belt. You tried looking him in the eyes since you didn't want to make things awkward. He teased you, "You sure you don't wanna take a look?" You eventually beat yourself to look down, seeing his size. You got startled but remained courageous.

He slipped into you, thrusting lightly. You expected a lot, but you never imagined this. He stretched you perfectly. He pushed his body down onto yours, whispering "Good boy~" and groaning every so often.

You finally understood. Price was waiting for this moment.

[taurusdaylight]

our rendezvous

summary. being lost in the horizon sounds scary, but not when you're hand in hand with your lover.

pairing. boyfriend! jaehyun x implied fem! reader

genre. established relationship! au, fluff

word count. 4,021

warnings/tags. as far as i know, nothing :) it's only a little angsty because of uncertainty about the future, but nothing too intense! very very fluffy,,,, maybe a lil pda (oh?)

a/n. ur resident valentine is back! i'm so sorry for going off the grid, my life has been a blur over the past few months… i did nothing and everything. anyway, this is inspired by none other than horizon (soty!) and i was very lucky to have had the opportunity to visit florence, where the horizon mv was filmed, so i knew i had to write this! after finishing it, i realised it's rather similar to my first fic but what can i say, i love jaehyun travel! aus, plus, jaehyun and forever just go together. <3 hope the new year is treating everyone kindly, and as always, have fun reading~

–

Navigating life after graduation was akin to walking through a maze, struggling to find a way out. Growing up, you always thought that everyone’s life had already been nicely written out since there were only two things that truly mattered: school and work. The adults always preached about how good academic records would land you a great job. All your life, you never failed to achieve and maintain stellar grades so you never doubted that you would get a job. Yet, as the day of your graduation approached, you started to worry that you might not end up finding a job. Or at least, one that was to your liking.

The thought of working for the rest of your life sounded… boring. Perhaps an oversimplification, but you always made sure to put a hundred percent into your studies, so you felt like you never really had the chance to live your life the way you wanted to. You weren’t a party animal per se, but you wouldn’t hesitate to skip a night out with your friends if you had an important deadline to meet. It was always academics over everything else. Apart from meeting expectations that others had on you, the fear of failure haunted you too. More often than not, the urge of wanting to disappear creeped into your mind. It didn’t seem like a bad idea, running away to some random part of the world where no one knew you. Once you’ve spent enough time there, you could easily travel to another city and explore till your heart’s content. That was the dream. Unfortunately, this particular dream of yours never came true.

That was, until now.

Treading the path of adulthood was admittedly scary, you could slip and fall at any given moment and not know how to pick yourself up. But, you weren’t on your own. 

Jeong Jaehyun, your boyfriend of two years, shared the same sentiment. Sure, he was ambitious and had his goals set out. Like you, however, working himself to death wasn’t one of the things on his list. Jaehyun believed that it was important to strike a balance, to not throw yourself into something so deep that you would get lost in it. Working may be important but it would never hurt to have a little fun whenever time called for it. 

You first met Jaehyun in Introduction to Film Studies. Both second-year students, you and Jaehyun clicked extremely well with each other as you bonded over your shared love for films. What started as study sessions to help each other with assignments eventually progressed to warm, cosy movie date nights that also involved cuddling under a fluffy blanket on Jaehyun’s couch. 

While there have been minor arguments over those two years, you and Jaehyun always made sure to communicate. After all, a couple is supposed to fight the problem, not each other. The both of you understood that. These disagreements never bothered you that much because you believed that they were part and parcel of every relationship. Instead, you wondered more about how lucky you are to have found someone like Jaehyun. As you liked to put it, Jaehyun was your twin flame. He spoke to your soul in a way that no one else could.

Instead of taking the conventional route of starting a full-time job after graduating, you and Jaehyun booked one-way tickets to Rome the week after your final exams. How long the both of you were going to stay there for, that was a question for another time. The plan was to have no plan, going wherever your feet took you. Both of your parents weren’t exactly agreeable about this idea, nagging about how irresponsible and irrational it was. But what could they do? It’s not as if they could physically stop two grown adults from going. Eventually, they were able to come to terms with it and simply asked the both of you to stay safe. 

It’s been about three weeks or so since you two arrived in Rome. Tranquil mornings without a blaring alarm was something that you could really get used to. The icing on the cake would be waking up to the sight of Jaehyun sleeping peacefully next to you, an arm securely draped around your waist. His lips would slightly jut out, you would sometimes sneak a kiss or two because he simply looked too adorable to resist. 

A day out together would look something like sitting by an artwork in a museum, coming up with various interpretations or hopping from café to café to try out different desserts (which were often, gelato), you couldn’t count with your fingers the number of times the staff had to chase the both of you out because they were closing. Time is said to fly past when you’re having fun, but even more so when you’re spending it with the love of your life. At least, that’s what you think. 

The both of you woke up earlier than usual today because you’d turned in early the previous night, probably exhausted from all the walking. The sun wasn’t up yet, which meant that there were limited stores that were operating during this time too. It felt like a waste to sleep in and laze around in the apartment, so came the impulse decision of buying last-minute train tickets to Florence. 

“C’mon baby,” Jaehyun half-shouted, his gaze flickering between you and the platform located at the other end of the station.

Hands intertwined, you and Jaehyun were sprinting as fast as your legs could carry you in order to catch your train that leaves in approximately two minutes. Or rather, you were doing everything in your power to match Jaehyun’s speed because why was he running like he was competing in the Olympics? So much for wanting an athletic boyfriend. 

You were almost out of breath from running, you didn’t even have the energy to give Jaehyun a verbal answer. Instead, you tried to speed up like he told you to. After what felt like a hundred miles, the both of you finally reached the platform, boarded the train, and settled down into your allocated seats. 

“Oh my goodness. We are never doing that again,” you said, panting. 

Jaehyun shot you a wide grin. “Now that’s what I call an intense leg day.” 

You were rendered speechless. Here you were, thinking that he was going to agree with you. But you also remembered that Jaehyun was a gym rat first, your boyfriend second. Jaehyun goes a little over the top with exercising, you could tell that much just by looking at his physique. Though, you wouldn’t say that it was exactly a bad thing. In fact, what a sight for sore eyes he was… 

Before you had a chance to respond, Jaehyun used his other hand to push your head towards his shoulder. “Go to sleep, doll. Don’t want you feeling cranky in the middle of the day because you didn’t get to take your daily nap. I’ll wake you up when we’re reaching.”

Despite not being able to see him, you could hear the smile in Jaehyun’s voice, which caused you to grin too. Perhaps it was Jaehyun’s shoulder that made you comfy, but you could feel the sleepiness slowly start to envelop you, so you snuggled even closer to him.

“Good night, Jay,” you said before falling into slumber.

–

The train ride took faster than expected, probably because you were asleep throughout the journey. Upon alighting, you and Jaehyun walked aimlessly along Via Faenza. You stopped in your tracks when you caught the pleasant aroma of coffee beans coming from a café, it was so inviting that the both of you had no choice but to enter.

Save for the long line of people in office-wear queuing to get their morning coffee fix, there was no one else occupying the seats in the café. Wanting to be away from the crowd, you and Jaehyun made your way to the corner booth seat situated all the way inside after getting your order. You sat next to each other, with Jaehyun's arm wrapped around your waist. Your torso was slightly exposed because of the cropped top that you wore, and Jaehyun’s fingertips easily found purchase on your skin. Soft traces all over, which oddly enough, made you feel tingly and warm simultaneously. 

“Jaehyun,” you called out.

He turned to look at you. “Hmm?” 

“Do you regret being here with me? Don’t you feel like you’re wasting your life away?”

Jaehyun halted his movements, but he did not loosen his grip on your waist. His answer was written all over his face, from his creased eyebrows to his frowning lips. 

“Of course not, baby. Did I do or say something to make you think that way? I’m sorry if I did,” he said sincerely. 

“No, you didn’t do or say anything of that sort!” you quickly clarified. “I think I’m just worried about the future, you know? Once all of this is over…”

A small smile played on Jaehyun’s lips as he removed his arm from your waist. He cupped your face in his hand, sighing. “I wish you could see yourself the way I saw you, because then you’d have nothing to worry about at all. You’re going to do great things, ____. I’m sure of that. But for now, just let loose and enjoy yourself, okay? You deserve to have a break.” 

Jaehyun’s words could bring you to tears. He radiated so much positivity that it naturally rubbed off onto you, especially with the amount of time that you spend with each other. However, there were still moments of weakness, like now, where you’d inevitably think about how things could possibly go wrong. Before you could spiral into a whirlpool of negative thoughts, however, Jaehyun would pull you right out of it by telling you exactly what you need to hear in order to help get you through these times.

“Thank you,” you whispered, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on Jaehyun’s cheek.

Jaehyun made a sound, as if to signal that he was pondering. He pointed at his cheek and tapped on it with his index finger several times. “One more?”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his request, but who were you to deny him? Since you were feeling generous and grateful to your boyfriend, you quickly moved closer to give him two more kisses. One on his cheek, and the other on his lips. The best part was seeing the Cheshire cat smile appear on his face after he’d received his well-deserved kisses.

For the rest of the time at the café, you and Jaehyun were people-watching through the glass window while sipping on coffee and feeding each other small spoonfuls of pastries. At some point, random passer-bys became a part of a guessing game that started out of nowhere. Dating or siblings? What would their coffee order be if they came in here? The both of you had a lot of fun making up stories to back up your answer, boisterous laughter sounding through the place. 

Afterwards, you and Jaehyun continued wandering through the streets now that more stores have opened. An apparel store selling headwear caught Jaehyun’s eye, and he spent about twenty minutes or so looking through the bucket hats. Taking one in his hand, he tried it on and started making silly faces at you while dancing. 

“Stop it, you’re embarrassing me.” You reached a hand out in an attempt to remove the hat from Jaehyun’s head, but he swiftly avoided you.

He held on tightly to the hat. “I think this was made for me. I’m definitely getting it.”

The hat didn’t look bad on him, but it was still… questionable. A helpless sigh escaped your lips when you knew that nothing you say would change his mind. “Okay… as long as you’re happy.” 

Fortunately, Jaehyun didn’t have thoughts of wearing the hat there and then. Because if not, you would think twice about walking next to him.

The next few stores mostly sold vintage items and souvenirs. You and Jaehyun ended up getting matching gnomes that had the initials of your first names carved into it. While checking out at the counter, the cashier made a comment about how cute the two of you look together and that the gnomes were such fitting choices, so much so that they looked like mini versions of you two. With shy smiles, the both of you thanked her before exiting the store. You also noticed the tinge of red on Jaehyun’s ears, but kept quiet about it since you were most likely a blushing mess yourself. 

Then, it was time for lunch. 

You and Jaehyun had previously crafted a mini bucket list, and one of the things on the list was to try the various types of pasta while you were in Italy, so that’s what the both of you had for lunch. It appeared that all the shopping must have taken up a great deal of your energy because the both of you still had an appetite for dessert afterwards, or, rather, gelato was considered a staple so there was no way that dessert could be skipped. 

Although it was sunny, the summer heat wasn’t unbearable so you two were at the outdoor seating area of the gelato café. Within the vicinity of the café, there was a group of children playing catch with one another. After finishing the gelato, Jaehyun dragged you along to them. 

“Ciao! I’m Jay,” he introduced with a friendly smile. 

You introduced yourself to them too and stood behind Jaehyun, hiding slightly. You didn’t have anything against children, but you still considered them to be strangers, and you always had a hard time talking to strangers due to your reserved nature. You barely had any experience with children too so this was still foreign to you.

On the flipside, Jaehyun adores children. You could see it in the way his eyes would light up whenever he interacted with him. Not to mention, he was great with children (an understatement, if you had to be truthful). Seeing Jaehyun with children always made your heart swell, in a good or bad way, you weren’t sure… The only thing you were certain of was that you definitely wanted to have his children.

While you were spacing out, Jaehyun was quick to ask and memorise the names of the children. He played around with them for a bit and made sure to include you as well, the game of catch was never so fun before. However, it wasn’t long before you got tired, so you opted to sit at one corner to watch them. You whipped out your phone to capture this moment, giggling at how precious Jaehyun looked. Happiness looked great on Jaehyun, and you hoped that it would stay on him for a long, long time.

All of them grew tired after a few rounds too, putting an end to the game. While they were busy running around, you discreetly returned back to the café and told the cashier that you would be paying for the children to get gelato. You also grabbed a bottle of water and gave it to Jaehyun, who was perspiring profusely; indeed, an intense leg day it was for him. 

Through body language and very poorly spoken Italian, you tried to tell the children that they could go pick out the flavours that they wanted at the café. You were far too preoccupied with communicating that to them, the endearing look that Jaehyun had on his face went unnoticed by you. Thankfully, the cashier was there to bridge the language barrier and they managed to get their gelato without any hiccups. Before leaving, each of the children gave you and Jaehyun a hi-five, a word of thanks echoing after one another.

Having spent almost the entire day in that area, you and Jaehyun decided to explore another part of the city before catching your train back to Rome. Long before this trip, you happened to stumble upon a website about the top spots that offered a picturesque view of the city. One of which was a twenty minute bus ride away from where you and Jaehyun were currently at. 

When the bus arrived, you and Jaehyun entered by the back door and sat down. You were busy admiring the old architecture of the buildings outside until you felt Jaehyun’s hand touching the side of your face. You realised that he was trying to put one side of his wired earpiece in your ear, which caused you to turn and face him, and you saw that he already had the other side of the earpiece in. Jaehyun was smiling so widely that his dimples were showing. You brought a hand up to poke it, feeling a sense of victory because you were one of the very few people in the world whom he allowed to touch his dimples.

Shyly, you took Jaehyun’s hand and interlocked your fingers together. No words were exchanged between the both of you, but there was a mutual feeling that this exact moment perfectly encapsulated the love you and Jaehyun have for each other. Tender, somewhat otherworldly in a way where everything, like the chatter of the other passengers on the bus, seemed to fade out in the background. 

As Can’t Take My Eyes Off You started playing through the earphones, you took it as an opportunity to mouth to Jaehyun, “I love you.”

Jaehyun’s dimples became more prominent at your sudden declaration. He made sure not to break eye contact with you before he mouthed back, “I love you.”

–

“Look!” you exclaimed, pointing toward the replica statue of David. It was the first thing that you saw after alighting from the bus.

Jaehyun turned his head to look at what you were pointing at. “Wow, it’s stunning."

The both of you hurriedly walked over to take some photos, which ended up in you and Jaehyun bursting into fits of laughter because he was imitating the statue and posing in the same way. It definitely earned you a few stares from the other visitors, but you and Jaehyun were too busy laughing to even notice that you two were getting judged. 

After snapping a few more photos, you and Jaehyun went to the other side of the square where you could see an overview of the city. It was breathtaking, to say the least, the both of you concurrently marvelled in awe at how it looked like a scene straight out of a movie. You could even spot the street that you two were at earlier in the day, as well as many other famous landmarks. Not to forget, the surrounding trees and mountains made it feel more complete, it was a perfect getaway from the bustling city for some peace and quiet. 

The both of you were standing at the top of the stairs, and you saw that there was a walking trail below. Due to time constraints, however, it seemed more logical to sit and admire the view, since neither of you knew how long the walking trail was and where it led to. Besides, it was a perfect spot to catch the sunset before you had to leave for the train station, so you two sat on one of the steps near the top where you had an unobstructed view of the city.

Like before, you and Jaehyun were listening to music together while holding hands. Other than humming along to the song, Jaehyun would also sing some of the lyrics to you, especially if it was a sweet or cheesy line. 

“Can’t believe I get to be here with you.” Even after some time had passed, you were still greatly impressed by the scenic view, in disbelief about how you could share this moment with your lover. The bright orange hues of the sun added more colour to the backdrop, it felt surreal watching it slowly go down.

“Me too,” Jaehyun replied almost immediately. “It feels like a dream…” 

“If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up from it,” you said while shifting closer to Jaehyun’s side. “Like, ever.”

“I want to stay here with you forever.” Your voice came out as a whisper, because deep down, a part of you was afraid that this happiness would be taken away from you abruptly. 

Yet again, Jaehyun made one of those sounds to indicate that he was thinking, which made you gasp in response.

“You don’t want to be with me?” you questioned, a look of betrayal on your face.

“No, silly,” Jaehyun chuckled. “Of course I want to be with you.”

Jaehyun let out a deep breath, as though he had to brace himself for what he was going to say next. “The thought of eternity feels scary. But if I know that you’ll be there with me, then… there’s nothing to be scared of. I think, for me… forever is where you are, wherever that may be.”

Silence ensued, music playing through the shared earphones being the only source of sound. Jaehyun gulped awkwardly when he noticed that your gaze was fixed on him, but you weren’t saying anything. “Did that come out wrong? I don’t even know what I’m saying sometimes. But I guess I was trying to say that–”

You cut Jaehyun off with a kiss. He smiled against your lips, causing you to do the same. Jaehyun’s hand travelled to the small of your back to pull you in before he tilted his head to the side for better access, going straight for your upper lip to return the kiss. It was slow, delicate, and everything you could ever ask for. You sighed when you felt Jaehyun’s hand running over your skin; he knew exactly what he was doing. Every kiss that you shared with Jaehyun never fell short of being exhilarating, which was one of the great things about love… or Jaehyun. Perhaps, both. 

He was the first to pull away, staring intently at you with a cheeky smile on his face. Jaehyun leaned in closer until he could bury his head into the crook of your neck, leaving another kiss on your collarbone. You wrapped your arms around his frame, hugging him as tightly as possible. You and Jaehyun stayed like this for a while until you heard a lady yelp from a distance away, her loud voice grabbing your attention.

As you looked up to find out what the commotion was about, tears immediately filled your eyes and you had to do everything that you could to hold them back. 

The said lady was standing by the railing, both hands covering her mouth. In front of her was a man, down on one knee, holding out a box with a diamond ring. You tapped Jaehyun’s shoulder so that he’d sit back up, and he turned to see what you were looking at. All of the other visitors were also invested, as everyone patiently for the lady's answer. 

Everything happened so quickly. The lady nodding and getting pulled into a hug by her fiancé, the crowd erupting in cheers and applause–a truly sweet moment to witness. Without thinking much, you blurted out, “that’s going to be us.” 

Jaehyun diverted his attention back to you, shaking his head. Seemingly biting back a smile as his lips formed a thin line, Jaehyun jerked his head to motion at something behind you. “That’s us.”

You were about to protest, pop another question that was something along the lines of whether or not he was planning to marry you. However, you remained quiet and decided to take a look at what he was referring to first. 

Well, it looks like the urge to complain has completely disappeared. How could it not? Rather than dissatisfaction, your heart leapt with joy when your eyes landed on a couple standing hand in hand at the other end of the steps from where you and Jaehyun sat; they were having their pre-wedding photoshoot.

[kunikinnie]

a/n: the angst writer lives!! this has been in my wips for a long time and just decided to finish it (sorry that Kunikida's is much longer than the others lol)

warnings: some profanity

watching you marry someone else

featuring: Kunikida, Akutagawa, Fukuzawa, Fitzgerald x F!Reader

Kunikida Doppo

a/n: based on my aunt's story + this is sort of a sequel to this short fic

He didn't know why he came here. Was it because the entire Agency attended? Most likely, but he's not quite sure himself.

It might be wrong for him to be here in the first place. It was he who dumped you, after all. But he supposed that your working relationship after that wasn't too strained - if anything, it seemed you were still good friends. Perhaps your romantic history had been superseded by your more recent interactions, so there's nothing for him to be worried about.

The venue of your wedding was an excellent choice. Nothing flashy yet elegant, and the decorations were quite refined. It seemed well-planned as well. He mentally took notes for his own - if he were ever to have one, that is. At the back of his mind old drafts of the wedding you two could've had suddenly reappeared along with old memories that should've long been forgotten.

Fortunately the pain growing in his chest stopped momentarily when you finally appeared at the entrance. His eyes widened, shocked at how beautiful you looked. It was perfect. From the way your dress showed off your figure in all the right places to the way your hair fell lovingly on your shoulders to the way the sunlight emphasized the brightness of your eyes - it was truly perfect.

Somehow he imagined it was him you were walking to. It was as if his greatest dream was suddenly becoming a reality, and the ideal life he had been chasing for so long was finally within his grasp. The millisecond-long glance you showed him felt like you were intently gazing at him for hours.

But the harsh truth came crashing down as you continued to walk past him. The moment your eyes met the grooms', Kunikida saw the invisible link you two had. It was something to admire, really, but also something to be envious about.

The pain in his chest returned with ten times the force it had earlier. As the minutes passed so did his frustration rise, and every thought he had from the moment you two broke up - no, from the very first time you two met each other suddenly overwhelmed him.

Kunikida loved you so much. Nothing has changed and it never will. If he simply never became ambitious, if he simply never lied to himself, if he simply never trusted his stupid brain over his heart then maybe-

"Kunikida-san, there's an emergency at the office."

Tanizaki's whisper caught him off-guard. But within seconds he recomposed himself. Although the wedding was far from over, duty came first.

He discreetly said goodbye to his coworkers and silently left the venue with his junior. Of course, he stole one last glance at you before finally leaving.

Surprisingly Tanizaki took the wheel, but Kunikida paid it no mind as seconds could not be wasted when more urgent matters were at hand.

"What's the situation like? What happened?"

Strangely, the younger detective continued to drive off in silence.

"Oi, Tanizaki. Didn't you hear me?"

The more he hesitated, the more the older detective became suspicious. What the hell was he up to?

"A-actually," Tanizaki finally replied. "Nothing happened. It's just that Dazai-san said-"

"What?!"

"I-I mean we could all feel it, Kunikida-san. We thought you just needed some space to let it all out."

"There's no need." He sighed heavily. "Really, you're all worried for nothing. We should head back."

Still, he did not stir. "They'll be exchanging vows by the time we get back."

It was Kunikida's turn to be silent. Even if the car continued to travel further away from your wedding, it was almost as if he could hear those vows being recited right in front of him.

His eyes remained fixed on the road ahead, focusing on nothing in particular. A single tear fell down his cheek which he promptly wiped off with the back of his hand.

"It's okay, senpai. You can pretend I'm not here."

Kunikida wasn't sure why he broke at those words. It was quite unbecoming of a senior to show his emotions this openly to a coworker, let alone someone much younger than him.

Yet the tears won't stop coming. It was as if the frustration that built up across the years finally let itself free. When was he ever honest about his feelings on the matter? When has he ever shared the truth with anyone, even with himself? The bitterness at each sob was so great that he was sure his voice would be hoarse by the next day.

His ideals should've brought you happiness - that's the most fundamental rule he completely forgot. Yet maybe it was his failure in keeping that that ironically brought you to the one who will truly bring you everlasting joy. He'd have to learn to accept this fact, even if it meant forgetting the what-ifs, even if it meant letting you go, even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness.

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

The whole place was so... bright. Everything was white and fluffy, from the flowers on the aisle to the lights hanging on the trees. It was strange. It felt like he was in a children's book.

How unfitting for someone like him whose very being was, in essence, black. From his hair to his shoes, his coat, and perhaps even his soul.

But it's not like the guests noticed a shadow silently standing between other shadows. If anything, his whole outfit made him blend into the background perfectly as he intended. After all, Akutagawa wasn't in the strictest sense (or perhaps even loosest sense).

In fact, he could barely see what was happening. People in light colored formal garb, both male and female, the groom sporting something that stood out even more from the guests - he felt dizzy just looking at the scene.

But the moment you stepped in, all the color and light seemed to dim. Your white dress dazzled in the sunlight and your face shone brighter than he remembered. Has it really been so long since you last met?

All he could do was stare at you from the shadows. Your light was so blinding to his darkness, yet his eyes refused to shift their focus. How could he, when he knew that this would probably be the last time he'd ever see you?

You were better off without him. If you stayed with him, your smile would never be like the one you wore now. It's not like he could ever force himself upon you, either, even if it seemed that you cared for him more than anyone should have-

His chest began to throb painfully. The searing pain was much greater than most attacks he's had, rendering him almost completely helpless. Shit. If someone were to attack now, he'd be dead. Or if he were to give himself away and you spot him - ugh. He'd rather die.

Akutagawa struggled to walk away slowly, deciding to forget everything he saw there. It didn't do anything good for him. Why did he even decide to come here? Was he such a masochist to remember everything "good" you ever brought into his life? Wasn't it enough that he'd dream of you more often than he'd like, only to wake up in total darkness?

Each step he took triggered a memory for him. Each smile, each laugh, each embrace that you so cruelly bestowed upon him felt more real than the scene he just witnessed. Your... love had not yet disappeared, at least not in his mind, and how dearly he wished he could've relished in it a little bit more before it truly faded away.

Still, he was somewhat thankful he didn't. If it were granted, he would've craved your love more and left him with more pain in the end.

He still had that stupid sunflower keychain you gave him. It was a small crocheted piece, tattered but still quite vibrant in its colors. He never understood why you gave him that specifically in the first place. He only knew that you wanted it to make him happy.

Well, it still somewhat accomplishes that goal. It's the only physical remembrance of you he still has left, after all.

But like the sunflower that dies without the warmth of sunlight, he promised to let his feelings wither along with the memory of your smile.

Fukuzawa Yukichi

Unspoken words last longer. Deny it as much as he'd like, the truth is Fukuzawa's feelings for you had only grown deeper as the years passed by and only now did he wholeheartedly regret not telling you sooner.

He'd convinced himself that being friends - no, best friends was the best thing that could've happened between the two of you. No matter how much time was spent away from the other, each moment you two had together was only made more precious; it was as if you had never been separated in the first place.

All your dreams, all your hurts, all your pains - everything, he knew. And it was mostly true vice versa, except for that one very fact that stubbornly kept secret all this time.

He wasn't sure if he was truly glad to have been invited to your wedding. Sure, it was an intimate friends-and-family-only occasion that he was honored to be part of, yet the meant having to face the ultimate reality that he had for so long ignored.

He was present at your side of the wedding preparations. While others were scurrying along to bring you things you needed, he stood idly as clueless as ever. Maybe he should've just headed directly to the venue instead...

Suddenly, you requested him to enter your room. Well, if he could finally be useful then what was he to-

Astonished isn't even enough to describe his reaction. His hand froze on the doorknob the moment his eyes landed on you. Were you always this beautiful? Because it felt almost wrong to look at you, especially when his heart was holding things it shouldn't be.

"Hi Yu-kun," you spoke as usual. "I hope I'm not bothering you." Of course you're not a bother. You could never be a bother. "Just wanted a little chat to ease the anxiety, you know? My mind's been all over the place since last night."

You began spilling out of some of your true feelings - or perhaps intrusive thoughts is the better term. Worries about how you looked, how the guests were feeling, but most importantly worries about the future occupied your headspace.

He did his best to comfort you in his own way. Pre-marriage jitters are completely normal, and there was nothing he'd do to ease your nerves, wedding at hand or not.

"Actually... there's something I want to ask you. Before everything, you know, gets set in place..."

From that it was his turn to get nervous. He had an inkling as to what you were going to ask, and he wasn't sure if was ready to handle where this was going. He held his breath as each syllable escaped your lips.

"D-did you really... did you really never-"

"It seems they're looking for you, Y/N."

No, he was not ready. He couldn't be honest to you right now. How could you ask him now of all times? But at least he did not lie with his 'excuse' - you did have to leave soon and head to the wedding.

Without a hitch, everything went as planned. You walked down the aisle with all your loveliness, took the hand of the love of your life, and exchanged vows with him. Everything went so smoothly Fukuzawa nearly forgot about your earlier conversation.

It was during your dance with your now husband that he remembered everything. He silently watched the way your skirt flowed with every gentle step you took. Would he ever have been lucky to have danced with you like this had he been honest earlier?

Perhaps. But at this point, should he even think about that? He wished for nothing more than a peaceful married life for you, and disturbing that with a belated confession would do no good. That's why he dodged your question - not that he was worried your relationship with him would strain somehow.

Well, it's not like you actually asked him the question about that. He just assumed that's where it would go. And he's just assuming that you too had feelings for him that never went anywhere because of his own cowardice.

Agh. Maybe he should have waited for you to finish speaking. That way he'd never be left with unanswered questions and that he could have the closure he needed.

The night ended with neither of you bringing up what happened in the dressing room. You'd never bring it up in the future either, and in a way spared Fukuzawa half the pain. Seeing you happy, albeit with another man, was more than enough to satisfy his aching heart.

Francis Scott Fitzgerald

You two were quite young when he fell madly in love with you. But unlike youth, Francis was convinced his love for you would never go away. You didn't seem to agree, however.

Time can be cruel. He'd been working his ass off just to make a future with you possible - not just so that he could live another day, but also so that he could provide the future you wanted. So why? Why didn't you wait for him to come back?

In a way, he blames you for it. You could've been at least a little more patient. He never lied to you when he said he's been spending most of his waking time at work, or that not for a second did he forget why he was working so hard to begin with: to be with you and only you.

Yet for the most part, he blames himself. Had he been more efficient, he would've earned more and been able to return to your arms. Perhaps he could have gone down a different route that would've made him financially secure faster. Maybe you also felt unloved as he had little time for you - had he addressed your emotional needs better perhaps this story would have a different ending.

No. The story had yet to end. You loved him the way he loved you, right? You didn't lie to him, did you? So he still had a chance before you finally tied the knot - all he had to do was make it in time.

He'd raise an objection at the marriage. You'd suddenly snap your head to the source of the voice and meet his eyes, then you'd run into his arms and envelope him in your loving embrace, asking him why he only came back for you now. "I missed you so much," you'd say as he'd sweetly kiss your forehead like he did so many times in the past.

But he didn't make it in time. As he ran to the entrance the ceremony had already finished, and lavishly dressed guests were leaving to make it to the reception. That's alright, he said to himself, maybe he could still convince you if only he could meet you during the reception somehow.

The opportunity never came, however. He followed the trail of guests to the banquet your now husband without doubt had prepared for you. Francis recognized some of your favorite dishes among those being served, and it slowly broke his heart seeing how this new man of yours took good care of you.

He finally saw you seated beside your husband, dolled up perfectly to the role of a rich businessman's wife. He would've wanted to enter the hall and try to approach you, but the guards wouldn't let him take a single step inside.

There was still the end of the reception, right? Just one moment with you was all he needed. Good Lord, please just grant him this one opportunity to talk to you, even if there was no chance of getting back together with you. Francis just had to know - he just needed to talk to you one last time.

You finally left the venue, but there was no opening for him. You couldn't even spare him a glance. It was already hard for him to take one last proper look at you, so imagine how much harder would it be to talk to you again.

He couldn't sleep properly that night. The tears silently flowed down as he gently clutched a picture of yours, pretending that you were right beside him caressing his hand.

Why did everything go wrong? Why did nothing go his way? Was he truly a nobody, even to you, the love of his life?

From then on he vowed to make himself a man worthy enough to stand on your level. Someday he'd be able to speak to you once more, and the time will come when he'd provide you a better life than what even your filthy rich husband could. Someday, you'd learn to love him again.

taglist: @stygianoir, @requiem626k , @irethepotato, @kisara-16reblogs, @thatdazaikin, @dazaee, @menshusband, @celestair, @bloobewy, @renaxnnas, @kunikida-simp, @fyodorisbbg

[azaliyas]

summary : after studying the guitar since you were a kid, you were now ready to start a band and let your music be known to the big public. thanks to an online announcement you posted, you found him as your bandmate.

word count : [ to be added later ]

genre : modern au, fluff.

cw / tw : mentions of drinking.

characters : 6reeze boys.

note : had to change the order because of the way i keep my posts in order, sorry for the inconvenience ^^;

aether — the keyboardist

if you had to describe aether in one word, it would have been "puppy", always so cheerful and easy-going. it was easy to befriend him after you guys met for the first time for a trial rehearsal and see if you two could work well together. his friendly and kind personality had you, too, smile brightly at him. and that pulled his heartstrings in a way he had never experienced before.

his slender fingers, you were sure of that, were blessed with a talent and a discipline you have seen in such a few people it was more unique than rare. the keyboard really came to life whenever he played, each note an arrow going straight to your fans' hearts. he had this natural charm that draw people to him to watch closer, and staying to have more.

aether was kind with everyone, but with you, he was such a gentleman, always ready to come to your aid even outside your music business. he was your dearest friend, the person you held in high regard, and the same was for him. he couldn't help the fondness in his voice when talking about you, be it with his friends or fans he met in the streets, a special kindness enveloped your name every time it left his lips.

of course, fans were quick to catch up on it and start spreading the "y/n x aether" agenda, heart-shaped eyes looking at every little interaction between you and the blonde guy, be it off stage or, more often, on stage, when his golden eyes were glued on your form, following you around, his voice soft and tender while singing his parts.

ah, but it was such a shame you didn't notice any of this. how wonderful would it have been, dating you, call you his significant other, his lover, the one he oh so tenderly loved and cherished... but that had to wait. he had to make you aware of his feelings in a less direct way first in order to see if you too felt the same way as him. but until then, he was happy even with just holding you close to his chest after another night of successful concerts, sleeping soundly on his lap.

just wait a little longer for him, will you?

heizou — the dj

you weren't exactly a fan of electronic music or whatever kind they played in nightclubs and similar places, but after meeting heizou, you had a change of heart.

the maroon-haired guy was like a tornado, strong and passionate and unstoppable when his mind was set on something. and that something was forming a duo with you and have your music climbing the charts. he surely was ambitious, but you didn't mind, he got the spirits and that was what was important to you.

with heizou's influence your music grew artistically and in terms of listeners on the major streaming platforms, thanks to his fame as an already well-known dj and a few semi-important collabs he had. from covers to mix-ups to original music, your virtual library grew exponentially. you two featured in many playlists, sometimes even those ai-generated, or the most mainstream ones along with much more famous artists. and you were the center of it.

heizou did whatever was in his power to have you in the spotlight, always talking so fondly of you fans couldn't help it but start shipping you two. and how could they not, when every single damn occasion was as good for him to mention your name.

but you were pretty dense, weren't you? thinking it was just for advertising purposes, his shameless flirting for you, but if he did that only with you, then why weren't you catching on his attempts?

a shame, truly, because you two looked so good together, have it in real life or in the numerous pics of you guys circulating on the internet. but fret not, heizou was confident you would eventually fall for him one day, he could have you in his arms even in a romantic sense, and not only literally, like right now, while he was carrying you in your bedroom after he found you asleep on the couch of your shared apartment.

working late into the night wasn't for you, you know?

kazuha — the bassist

the first time you met kazuha, the impression he left you was quite strong despite his calm, comforting aura. maybe it was right because of that aura of his, such an opposite to his on-stage self, wild and crazy, a side of him only during concerts you were able to see. his fingers were rough on the bass chords, plucking them with harsh strength to keep up with the exciting and fast music you composed together, going so far he had to wear bandages to avoid hurting his fingers.

off-stage, on the other hand, kazuha usually kept to himself, notebook and pen by his side, writing poetry and lyrics. having him around you was like walking on the clouds, feeling so warm and comfortable. and he felt the same with you, so of course your relationship bloomed outside of music, becoming friends.

the white-haired boy was such a softie he had you cooing over him like most of your fans, although they did so both for him and for the romantic relationship they thought you guys were in. and no one could blame them to think so, with how kazuha seemed to have eyes for you only, or with how he was glued to your hip when on stage, foreheads pressed together while playing, lips inches away with only a microphone stopping him from kissing you — the crowd surely wouldn't have complained.

kazuha didn't hide the bluntness of his feelings, but he never explicitly said he was in love with you either. it was in the loving embrace you were always welcomed in, the gentle touches of his fingers littering on your skin, in the quiet voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear while asleep, hoping to give you pleasant dreams.

one day, kazuha told himself, he would have been able to tell you such words while you were awake, not sleeping clinging to his side, hands around his waist and one of his was in your soft hair.

one day, his muse shall know the truth.

venti — the singer

although venti wasn't exactly your usual rock singer, he quickly adapted to your style, but so you did to his. this perfect molding brought you two leaning towards a kind of rock music with classical and ballad influences, creating quite the sub-genre per se. and your growing fans seemed to particularly appreciate such fresh and new stuff.

over the years venti grew quite fond of you and viceversa, so much you two became each other's closest friend. your chemistry was something you didn't get to experience every day, and whoever got to know you and him knew that at first glance.

he was a playful and flirty friend, bringing that same behaviour on stage, knowing way too well it had your fans swooning over him — or maybe on you two, since this flirty behaviour of his was mostly directed at you. arm snaking around you, or cheeks pressed together, or foreheads resting on each other, the boy always managed to have contact with you while his sweet voice echoed in the hall along your guitar. touchy, but you didn't mind, that was his persona after all.

or wasn't it?

off stage venti was calmer, but still always seeking your companionship, almost as if you were his cuddly teddy bear. what you didn't know was that it was his way to have you close, to push away those who tried to flirt with you, to satiate the love he had for you.

yes, venti loved you, dearly, deeply, but most of all quietly. he knew you saw him as a friend only, a dear one, but a friend nonetheless. this knowledge had his heart ache, but he was resolute in not letting you know about his feelings, ever. otherwise, he feared he wouldn't have been able to hold you like this, your head in the crook of his neck and his arms around your waist as you slept, ever again.

you were everything, he couldn't possibly let you go.

wanderer — the drummer

kunikuzushi, known as "scaramouche" (from his previous membership in another band) or "wanderer" (adopted for his solo career), wasn't actually the bandmate you would normally expect. sure, he was one hella good of a drummer and his previous fame helped yours skyrocketing, but except for this he wasn't particularly inclined in dealing with you outside music business.

of course, you weren't expecting to become best friend with the indigo-haired boy, but at least a relationship of close acquaintances was the least, in your opinion. you thought that his "bad boy" persona was just a facade for the fans, but his coldness toward you sometimes had you second guessing.

all of this changed whenever you two were inside the studio or, more often, on the stage. there, kunikuzushi seemed to turn into a totally different person. his deep and raw voice would draw your attention to him, eyes locked together singing at the top of your lungs, music blasting all around you.

what you didn't know, however, was that kuni held such contrasting behaviours toward you for a single, simple, yet stupid reason: he was in love with you. a deep, warming love that swelled in the depths of his heart, away from your knowledge.

loving you inspired him to write those tooth-rooting kind of songs you seemed to like, but they were too obvious regarding your persona to be sang in front of a crowd. he poured his heart in those lyrics, they were personal, for him only — no, not even you.

all the years he spent wearing that stupid "bad boy" mask convinced him he was, indeed, not good enough for a serious relationship so, how could he enter one with you?it was better to leave you alone, but your figure sleeping soundly by his side after another night of concerts, snuggling against him for warmth in that cool night, was giving him a hard time doing so.

you were such a temptation.

xiao — the guitarist

when posting that announcement for a band member, surely you didn't think you'd meet "alatus", a guitarist with a well-known reputation on the underground scene.

xiao was a guy around your age, not particularly expressive but with an impressive knack for music. all of his emotions and feelings were poured into the lyrics he wrote for your band. yours to write was the melody for his words.

this partnership of yours was quite fruitful as, even with you two leaning more onto the underground scene, the virality of your music earned you guys quite the fame even on the mainstream side. and not only because of the excellent and expressive music you and xiao produced.

many of your fans actually shipped you guys really hard because, according to them, the chemistry between you and xiao was one of a kind, more unique than rare. whenever there was a short video of you two back to back, playing the shit out of your guitars, heads leaning on each other's shoulder as the music took over you, your fans would be squirming in place, giggling and kicking their feet.

you, on the other hand, didn't quite understand their excitement. sure, over the years you and xiao spent together had become friends and got to know each other pretty well, not only to find a chemistry to be able to work together, but also because you really enjoyed having the black-and-teal-haired boy by your side. you considered xiao a dear friend, too dense to notice his eyes softening whenever they were on you.

how could you not notice his eyes sparkling when smiling for you, those tiny but genuine smiles only you could pull out of him? or his thoughtfulness about you even outside work, well behind the care a normal friend would have for you?

he sighed to himself, thinking that, one day, he will confess to you and have you two being a couple even outside the band. but for now he was happy like this, your head resting on his lap, knocked out cold after your usual post-show drinks.

what a lightweight you were.

© azaliyas 2023 do not copy repost translate or feed to ai

[indras-wife]

may I request Yandere Indra with his s/o escaping him?

Heyyy! I am so sorry this request took me ages to complete as I was super busy with my studies. 🥺 Despite taking my time I hope you will the request. Yandere Indra is such a hot concept for me. That man is the embodiment of crazy person who will do anything to stay with his lover forever. Hope you enjoy this❤️💖

Y/n thought a lot about her plan of escape very thoroughly for months. She was in an arranged marriage, one she never agreed to and hated her married life the minute it started. She knew very well that if her husband caught her running away, he would undoubtedly punish her or even worse kill her. After all, he was known as the “Red eyed demon” in these lands where they settled. But she could not help herself, her mind was continuously wondering about the life she could have if it was not for that man. She wanted her life and most importantly her freedom back. Living with Indra was a full nightmare for Y/n.

Memories

”But…but I don't want to marry you.!” Y/n looked at his eyes, hoping to see a change in those red rubies. Yet the only thing she saw was his unchanged and even darker expression, making it obvious that her cherished dream of being free from him will soon be crushed.

”You really think you have any freedom to decide your own future Y/n? How naive of you..~”he said, smirking. This man always got what he wanted and now he wants Y/n as his wife, the mother of his future children and his partner for life.

”You and I are destined to be together. No matter what, you belong to me. I won't let anyone or even YOU try to take what's mine away from me. Understood?” His eyes gleamed with malice as he spoke. Only at that moment did Y/n realise that the rumours about her soon to be husband were true…he truly was one crazy and merciless man who would not stop at anything to get what he wanted.

End of memory

Y/n waited till her husband left for his daily council meeting at night. She already prepared everything in advance, hoping that her plan to escape would succeed. She knew her husband would stay longer during this meeting as he was preparing for a surprise attack at the village he came from. This was the chance of the lifetime for Y/n and she would use it.

Gathering some clothes and food in her small bag, she finally came out of her house and started running towards the forest as fast as her legs could carry her. After some time of running, she started to run faster, not daring to look back or even think about being caught. Freedom seemed so close for her that she just could not stop. She was ambitious, she had to regain her freedom and her lost life. Maybe even reunite with the man she wanted to be with?

Y/n’s head was filling up with ideas of her bright future as she was running through the dark forest. Her heart, on the other side, was filled with the feeling of being scared the more she went away from her house and village.

-Meanwhile-

“Stupid documents..I forgot them..” Indra was mumbling as he walked towards his house. He wrote down every plan of his, which was created by very precise calculations and wisdom that only he possesses out of every man in the village. He knew that if he wanted to make his father and brother pay. he had to rely only on his wisdom and precise methods. Or else he would fail and for him, failure is not an option.

As he entered his house, he felt a strange feeling; some sort of emptiness in the house which he never experienced. And what was weirder was his wife did not come to greet him.

“....” Indra knew something was off. “Y/n?” he said loudly, waiting for his wife to come to him.

But…there was no answer. Indra went upstairs to their bedroom, but Y/n was not there as well. He could not even sense her in the house.

Did she get kidnapped?

Did someone try to harm her?

Did someone take her away from him…?!

Or…maybe she escaped..?!!

Indra’s mind was full of ideas about what could have happened to his wife in this short period of time of his absence. He would not tolerate anyone harming her or taking her away from him. Y/n belonged to him and only him and he would make sure to let everyone, including her, know it. His mind screamed for him to go to the forest, hoping to reach those who kidnapped her. Or even to her.

Indra hurried out and ran to the forest. He would get her back no matter what. And if she was not kidnapped, but instead escaped him, he would show her the consequences of her actions without holding back.

-After some time-

Y/n was not sure how long she had been running in the forest. Everything looked the same to her, she even thought she was lost. Her legs were tired, her heart beating super fast and her mind thinking only about the escape.

As Y/n could not keep running anymore, she leaned on a tree to catch her breath.

“Kami…please help me find my way…Please…” she breathed as she closed her eyes, hoping to take a small rest and continue.

“You are calling for the WRONG god, Y/n…” Y/n heard Indra’s voice from behind her. Her body was signaling for her to not turn around. but ran, as far as she could. But she ignored her mind ans instead turned around, seeing her husband behind her.

“....!!” her eyes widened, walking back as she could not believe in her eyes.

Why is he here? Shouldn’t he be in his meeting? Did he know of her plan?

Thoughts were running in Y/n’s head, trying to make sense of what had happened.

“You were trying to escape from me huh..? And here I was thinking my wife was kidnapped, but in reality she is trying to escape from me..I thought you would NEVER do such a thing,...considering how good I treat you~” he spoke calmly, walking towards her in slow steps.

Y/n was totally freaked out. She was not expecting to be caught, and not to mention she was scared of what Indra would do to her. His calm way of speaking freaked her out even more. For him, this is a betrayal, and she knew better than anyone how Indra was dealing with people who betray him.

“Cat got your tongue dear WIFE..?” Indra quickly appeared in front of her and slammed her body on the tree. Y/n left out a small sound of pain as she could not dare to look at him. Her whole body was shaking, her heart beating fast and her mind replaying scenarios that she thought would happen to her soon enough. What will he do to her?

Kill her?

Torture her mercilessly before killing?

“I-In….Indra..I…”Y/n could only utter his name weakly, still not able to look at him. She felt too ashamed and scared to look at him. As she was trying to gather her thoughts to defend her. she heard Indra sigh deeply.

“You what? Want to tell me you are sorry? That you did not mean to ESCAPE from me, but it SOMEHOW happened..? How long were you planning this escape of yours, Y/n. Tell me…TELL ME!!” he screamed, grabbing her neck. Y/n knew he was livid. He would yell only when someone got him very angry. And she DID get him angry.

“S-SORRY…! I am sorry Indra..! Please….Please let…let me go…please!” Y/n spoke as her hot tears fell, hoping her cruel husband would really let her go.

“Let you go…?” Indra asked, his voice full of mockery. “Ah you…my SWEET, POOR WIFE~” He added, now laughing on her face. Y/Despite never bearing him laugh, she knew instantly that this wasn’t an innocent laugh. It was full of evil, mockery and foreshadowing of torture.

“I WILL NOT let you go. EVER. You are mine…Your soul, body, mind…your whole essence is MINE Y/n. There is no escape from me..and I will make sure you dont ever think about escaping AGAIN” he gripped her hand and pulled her body to his.

“W-What you plan to do with me..!?”Y/n asked, feeling scared for what will happen to her.

“Do not strain your mind thinking about it..~ You will see soon enough…~ I will make sure your legs will not work for DAYS and your mind will be blank of any idea about escaping me.”

Indra picked Y/n up and ran through the forest to their house. Something told Y/n, she would not enjoy what he would do to her and she knew that after this, she would not ever dare to escape or even think about it.

EVER.

[freesia-writes]

Ch 16: Foreign Contaminant

~ Master List ~ Previous Chapter ~ WC: 2.8k

Hunter let out a slow exhale, finger steadying on the trigger as the animals milled about near the river below. There were far too many young males in the herd, which had resulted in a great amount of fighting for dominance to determine the social hierarchy. While it was sometimes entertaining to watch, it gave him all the more reason to thin out the kod’yok as the females huddled nearby, ears flickering in mild irritation at the pervasive atmosphere the males had created. Their meat was always in demand at the butcher shop, so Hunter was grateful for the situation he now found himself in. 

One male mounted another, bugling triumphantly before being quickly headbutted by another ambitious adolescent. The ruckus spooked everyone for a moment, scattering them for a few moments before they slowly reconvened. Hunter sighed, finding himself too distracted to just take the shot already. 

“We could have been done an hour ago,” came Crosshair’s slithering words from beside him on the grassy knoll where they’d both posted up. “Do you always make it so miserably drawn-out?” 

“Sorry,” Hunter mumbled. “Stuff on my mind. You didn’t have to come, you know.”

“I told you I wanted to shoot something.”

“Well, when that one singles himself out again,” Hunter replied, nodding toward the largest male, “You can go ahead.”

“I thought you have your process,” Crosshair remarked snidely.

“Yeah, well… Let’s just get it and go.”

They sat in silence for a while, watching the herd mingle and squabble, neither willing to admit how much they truly enjoyed the waiting. It was peaceful and quiet, the breeze bringing a hint of warmth that suggested an upcoming return to the more temperate weather on the island, and the sun had poked out from behind the clouds to provide a toasty blanket of light across the entire scene. 

“How’s the observatory?” Hunter finally asked, voice barely audible in their shared space. 

“The work is fine. The people are loathsome.”

“Naturally.”

“The Xyloan keeps praising me for following the island’s will and has tried to ‘read my face’ about fourteen times now. I’m going to smack her if she tries it again.”

“You are not.”

“Maybe not,” Crosshair said with a small smile, indulging in just the thought. 

“What’s the deal with the Zygerrian?”

A visceral sound of disgust. 

“That bad, huh?” 

“He’s nothing like the rest of his people. Must have been dropped on his head as a baby.”

“I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing…” Hunter observed, tilting his head to sneak a glance at the side of Crosshair’s face for a second before returning his focus to the herd. 

“It’s unnecessarily complex,” his brother explained, hissing his words with a particular vitriol. “He somehow broke free from their brainwashed sort of herd mentality and is just full of love and rainbows for all living creatures. He thinks everyone he crosses paths with is just wonderful.”

“Ah, yes. Sounds terrible.” 

“It’s annoying.”

“Mmm.”

Silence fell for a while, Hunter mulling over all that his brother had been through and fighting a smirk at the sniper’s purported repulsion toward any sort of optimism or ebullience. But the Zygerrian’s positivity certainly seemed refreshing in comparison to the bitter, cynical types Crosshair had typically entertained since arriving on the island. Hunter didn’t think he was legitimately attracted to such harshness, but he still seemed to be working through the weight of his past and his own perceptions of his self-worth. Hunter was privately holding out hope for his brother to realize and accept the deep desire to care and be cared for.

“How’s your girlfriend?” Crosshair asked, putting just enough emphasis on the word to make it a verbal jab. 

“Don’t call her that,” Hunter said, pushing aside the immediate questions in his mind. “And… it’s weird.”

The sniper remained silent, eyes lazily flickering from animal to animal as they cavorted about the hills below. Hunter was grateful for his unobtrusiveness that masqueraded as disinterest, giving time to gather his thoughts. 

“I just have this nagging sense that she’s hiding something… Or… I don’t know. It can’t be as simple as it seems.”

“Why not?”

Now it was Hunter’s turn to be silenced, turning it over in his mind for a while before answering, “It just feels like there’s more to it.”

“Hm.”

“Little things,” he continued, “Like… Her past seems so… plain. Or she hints at stuff that happened but doesn’t share all of it…”

“And I’m sure you’ve shared everything with her, right?” 

“No, but I have reasons not to,” Hunter deflected, “Would you go telling everything to your little Zygerrian friend?”

Crosshair sniffed, rolling his toothpick to the other side of his mouth in response.

“She finally invited me to her house,” Hunter started, interrupted by a click of the tongue from his brother.

“Nice.” 

“Not like that,” he said, rolling his eyes. “We just had dinner. But I could swear she had a bunch of stuff hidden… in the walls or another room or something… Metal, electronics, weapons maybe…” He saw Crosshair staring at the side of his head out of the corner of his eye and turned to face the sniper fully. “I know it sounds crazy. But something was there. And I didn’t know how to ask about it, but she said the house was just old… But that wouldn’t explain it at all…”

“No, it sounds completely reasonable,” Crosshair said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Honestly Hunter… It sounds like you’re the one who’s hiding everything. Your own paranoia is tinting the way you see everything.” It was judgmental and dismissive, but it did give Hunter pause. Crosshair was uncannily insightful at times, but he could also be too quick to make up his mind without considering all the possibilities. Still, he’d been having a similarly difficult time when it came to adjusting to civilian life, leading Hunter to wonder if their struggles were not so different at their core. “It’s like you want to find skeletons in every closet because you’re too scared to just let yourself be happy.”

“Kriffing hell, Crosshair. You’re one to talk,” he exhaled, absolutely skewered by his brother’s words. 

“We’re not talking about me, are we?”

“Fair enough.”

Crosshair turned back to the herd of kod’yok, who had stilled enough to provide a clear, clean shot at the big male. “You know what I think?” he asked, flipping a tiny switch on his rifle before lifting it to his eye. The gun shook a little, provoking a frustrated huff from the sniper, who quickly squeezed the trigger with a snarl. The animals sprang into action, scattering in alarm, and the target hobbled a few steps before collapsing beneath the quick follow-up shot from Hunter. An awkward moment passed between the two of them, Crosshair flinging his Firepuncher across his back in irritation before turning to Hunter to finish his thought. 

“I think you two just need to bone.” 

[end of scene, but this is absolutely the same vibe we’re channeling here, LOL]

* * * 

.

Butcher duties wrapped up early, Hunter arrived at the school a little while before Omega’s class let out. He knew she didn’t need escorting to or from the school, but he’d missed her over the last month, and now he chuckled at how things had flipped since the start – sometimes he’d visit Lyra at her work with the excuse of seeing Omega and walking back down the mountain together. Venturing down the quiet hallway outside the administrative wing, he came to the back door of the offices and knocked quietly. 

“Well hellooo,” Lyra said as she answered, inviting him in. Her office was in the back corner, wedged between some closets, conference rooms, and archives, with one small window that barely let enough light in. The office door was dark wood and usually kept mostly closed, and she’d made her inside space cozy enough with a few small lamps and plants that brought some life to the otherwise drab setting. Everything was a rich, deep brown, from her large L-shaped desk to the shelves all around it, and the two small chairs that sat across the open part of her desk were a drastically different color from the monotony of everything else (they were a dark burgundy). 

“Hi,” Hunter said placidly, quickly hiding his surprise as he saw a man sitting in one of the two chairs when Lyra moved aside to return to her desk. Standing up a little straighter, he gave a curt nod to the fellow, who was sprawled out in quite the leisurely recline. His feet were stretched out straight in front of him, up against the front of her desk, and one arm stretched across the back of the other chair beside him while his other hand toyed idly with a small decorative cube that usually sat on one of her shelves. 

“Afternoon,” the man said, barely flickering a glance in Hunter’s direction before returning his eyes to Lyra, who had sat primly in her chair with her shoulders angled away from both of them, toward the wall side of the desk where her folders and screens were. “So anyway, she keeps sending me all these comms, and they keep getting bolder and bolder, and pretty soon she’s totally naked, right? Hah. But then I see her the next day and she’s pissed, and I don’t know why because I was all about her… uh… exhibition. Turns out she’d sent one more, in an even saucier position… to the wrong person!” 

“Oh no,” Lyra said halfheartedly, offering a small smile and empathetic expression while Hunter’s eyebrows crawled downward. This did not seem like normal work chatter, nor did it seem like something Lyra would be particularly inclined to hear. But the man continued, oblivious to the clear disinterest as he straightened his smart suit and ran a hand over his neat, wavy blonde hair. 

“I know, right? Not like that was my fault. Silly little whore…” Hunter’s mouth fell open at that, and the man turned to him, throwing a look of camaraderie that shocked the clone even more. “Ya feel me?” he laughed, rolling his eyes before turning away. Too speechless to respond, Hunter was distracted by a tiny snicker from Lyra, who had snuck a peek at him over her shoulder and was reveling in his reaction. “So what, you got a meeting with this guy or somethin?” the man continued, tossing the wooden cube back onto her desk and shifting his position into a different yet equally man-spread arrangement. 

“Ah… Yes,” Lyra nodded, turning to face the two and rising to her feet as though she’d just realized the solution to her problem. “Yes… This is the parent of one of our students. We need to sort out some details for the remainder of his daughter’s internship year.” 

“And you’re not even gonna introduce me?” the man said, standing up with a grunt and thrusting a hand at Hunter. “Mullet,” he announced, grabbing Hunter’s hand from his side and shaking it obnoxiously. “Mullet Hanker.” The cough that came in response was a quick cover for the laugh that surprised even Hunter – he’d heard plenty of odd names over the years, but for some reason the particular sound of this one, which contrasted starkly with the man’s suave appearance, struck him as odd.

“Hunter,” he answered, stepping back as the man pushed past him to stand beside Lyra, taking her hand just as quickly and holding it for a second, brushing his thumb across her knuckles before giving it a little farewell shake. “Just ‘Hunter’, eh?” said Mullet, giving Lyra a wink before turning back to him, snapping him out of the intense focus he’d suddenly had on their hands. “Mysterioussss.” He winked and bumped Hunter’s shoulder jovially before heading for the door, giving Lyra a quick second to shoot an apologetic glance before turning back to Mullet. “Catch you later, Vetty.”

“See you,” she said, waving as he disappeared around the corner after pointing at her for a long moment with a waggle of his eyebrows. Hunter and Lyra stared at each other for a moment, speechless in the cavernous silence that remained after Mullet’s departure. With a quiet sigh, Lyra returned to her seat, leaning her forehead into a hand while her elbow rested on her desk. Hunter remained standing, alternating between cautious glances down the hall where the man had headed and curious looks at her. 

“Uhh,” he began, realizing he had no idea where to go from there. 

“I know,” was all she could say. 

“What… What was that?”

“He oversees the administrative wing. So he pops in from time to time.”

“For… those kinds of updates?”

“Yep,” she rolled her eyes, shaking her head at Hunter with a softened look. “I think I’m one of the few staff members that he hasn’t slept with yet. Probably has some kind of personal conquest or somethin.” Hunter’s eyes narrowed, turning to peer back down the hall before moving a little further into Lyra’s office. 

“Does he bother you?”

“I mean… whose boss doesn’t?”

“Yeah, but… You shouldn’t have to listen to that kind of stuff if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not worth the conflict,” Lyra shrugged, the corners of her mouth turning down a little. “Want to sit?” 

Hunter looked at the chairs, close together in the space that Mullet had just occupied, and shook his head, inexplicably dissuaded. There was a sharpness to his voice that he didn’t intend as he replied. “I’m good… Omega will be out soon anyway.”

“Hey,” she said softly, getting back up to stand before him, wrapping her arms around herself a little self-consciously and resting her weight to one side. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck before mimicking her crossed arms. “Why?” he asked, lifting his chin to regard her impassively. 

“Just seem a little agitated.” It wasn’t an accusation, but an observation with a bit of yearning behind it, as though she wished she could free him from any burdens that may plague him. Her gentle honesty lowered his walls a little, and he looked at the floor again, clearing his throat quietly. 

“Weird feeling from that one, is all.”

“You’re not wrong there,” she agreed with a light sigh. “Oh, hey!” she said suddenly, turning back to her desk and pulling something from a readily-available space on a top shelf. Coming back into Hunter’s space, she opened her hand, revealing the small emergency beacon he’d given her a couple months into the school year. “Since Omega is going to be primarily away on internships for the rest of the term, did you want this back? She might want to keep it herself when she travels.”

“She was a little weird about it when I tried to give it to her,” Hunter admitted, glancing down at her hand but not moving to take it. “She’s on a bit of an ‘independence’ kick or something…” 

Lyra guffawed loudly, clapping a hand over her mouth at his initial look of affront. “No, I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you. I just…” she shook her head, a bit flustered and embarrassed now. “I’ve seen it a lot with kids this age. Well, they’re not even really kids anymore. They’re stretching their wings and finding their place in the world. And nothing is more offensive to that endeavor than someone trying to parent them, no matter how reasonable or well-meaning it may be.”

“Heh. That sounds about right,” he said slowly, a sense of validation momentary soothing his tumultuous concerns. His silence lasted a few extra seconds, his expression growing contemplative, and she tipped her head slightly, taking one tiny step closer and reaching out her free hand to place it on his forearm with feather-light apprehension. The warmth from her touch radiated up his arm and into his chest, and he slowly moved his eyes up to hers. 

“If it makes you feel any better,” she said haltingly, a slight sparkle in her low voice, “No one knows what they’re doing. Kids don’t, parents don’t, even the ‘experts’ don’t. We’re all just doing the best we can with what we have… And just the way you are always there for her is the most important thing. In my idiot opinion, anyway.” Her dismissive finish was followed by a chuckle, but she nodded at him confidently, sealing her words with clear admiration. 

“Well thanks,” he conceded, looking back down to her hands. “And uh… Why don’t you keep the beacon. For yourself…”

She followed his stare, bringing the little silver cylinder back up between them with an open palm again and considering it, as well as all that his words implied, then calmly closed her fingers around it, a small smile touching the corner of her mouth as she looked back up in time to see him gazing at her intently as he finished speaking. 

“Just in case you ever need it.”

.

Previous Chapter ~ Master List ~ Next Chapter

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[warriorofthought]

Part 2 I did love you, always!

Summary: Bucky broke up with you but the Winter Soldier still loves you.

Word count:  2189

Warnings: sad and sentimental Feelings 

Winter Soldier x Reader

You had, with Bucky as the winter soldier controlling his body, two wonderful weeks until his mind slowly started to slip back, bit by bit into Bucky.

You and Winter didn't talk about how you both will manage it when Bucky comes out again, just ignoring it and making the best out of it. It's foolish, you both know it. 

Deep down in your heart you know you can't lose Bucky again, but you don't care in which mind you have him but to lose his individual again will shatter your heart in thousands pieces again and never will heal.

Currently you walk from the stable into the living room, carrying a few Wooden blocks to throw into the fireplace as you see Winter sitting on the sofa a bit lost in thought, his phone in his hands.

You throw the Wooden blocks in the oven and then walk closer to him. “Are you writing someone?” You ask and see him slightly flinch, which surprises you.

You look a bit more focused on him and see, in winter's eyes, that he slipped a bit back into Bucky.

“Bucky? Who did you write to?” You ask gently. 

You see him frown, then his eyes set on you. 

“Sharon.” 

You nod, swallowing hard. It's what you have expected to happen.

You watch him, and see how Bucky's eyes flicker before they are Winters again.

“I'm sorry, my love. But Bucky has written to Sharon.” 

“Don't worry, it's alright. Are you feeling good?” 

“I'm, my flower”

“Are you sure? Can I do something to help you?”  you ask concerned and pat his thigh.

Winter grabs your face, soft but firm. You grasp slightly and watch him, his eyes piece into yours with a deep frown.

“Everything is alright, Winter.” You say comforting.

The Winter Soldier relaxes his grip and kisses your forehead.

He is silent for a moment, just holding you. But then he whispers.

“I know you are right, but somehow that makes everything tougher… Sharon loves the real Bucky. But you actually love me, the other side of him and him, you love us both equally.”

“I know, don't break your head with this thought alright, I will love you, no matter what happens.” You promise him.

“Just let us enjoy our time, hmm?” 

You see Winter nod gentle at you.

You grab his hands and walk over with him to the sofa, there you put on the tv. It's Winter's favorite show, you let it play.

In the meantime you watch Winter, his features. You still see the emotion from the killer machine that Hydra produced, but he is surprisingly soft in everything he does as long as you are present.

But then you also see how Bucky starts to appear slowly more often. His eyes start to lose the Winter Soldier touch.

Then one night without your knowledge as you sleep, Bucky writes Sharon.

Bucky sat at the kitchen table, the glow of his phone illuminating the room in the quiet of the night. The message to Sharon was crafted with care, each word heavy with the weight of his decision. He glanced over at you, asleep on the bed, your face peaceful in the dim light. You were everything to him, the anchor that kept him grounded. Yet, here he was, pretending to love Sharon, a facade he had built out of fear and confusion.

His relationship with Sharon was a facade, a fragile construct built on lies and deceit. She was ambitious and driven, but her love for him was shallow, lacking the depth and understanding he found with you. He knew he had to end things with Sharon before the charade became unbearable, but the thought of hurting you in the process filled him with guilt.

Then he start writing:

Sharon,

I can't keep living this lie. I'm leaving. I'm sorry.

Bucky

The message to Sharon was written, and his thumb hovered over the send button. It felt like he was about to detonate a bomb.

Then he hit send. It feels so heavy.

He set his phone down, his hands trembling as he fought back tears. He couldn't bear to face your disappointment, but he knew he couldn't stay here any longer. He quietly gathered his belongings and slipped out of the farmhouse, the night swallowing him whole.

The next morning, you woke to find Bucky's side of the bed empty and his belongings gone. Confusion and fear gripped your heart as you searched the house for any sign of him. 

“Winter?!”

“Winter, come on, where are you?” you still don't hear anything.

“Bucky? Bucky, are you here?” but still you get no answers.

When you found nothing, you reached for your phone, your hands shaking as you dialed his number.

But there was no answer and your heart sank. You knew then that he was gone, leaving behind nothing but unanswered questions and broken promises.

As the sun rose, casting a warm glow over the farm, you stood alone on the porch, your heart heavy with grief. Bucky had vanished without a word, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart alone.

The sound of a car approaching broke the silence, and she turned to see Sharon stepping out, her expression a mixture of confusion and anger."Where's Bucky?" Sharon demanded, her voice sharp. You met her gaze, your eyes filled with sadness. "He's gone, Sharon. He left last night."Sharon's face twisted in disbelief. "Gone? What do you mean, gone? He sent me a message to come here."

Your heart ached as you watched Sharon read the message on her phone. You knew the pain and confusion you felt mirrored Sharon's own emotions. Bucky had left them both behind, with nothing but his lies and deception to show for it. 

“That coward," Sharon spat. "He ran away and left you to deal with this? Typical."

You stand your ground. 

"He was scared, Sharon. He made a mistake. We all did."

Sharon's eyes blazed with anger. 

"Don’t try to justify his actions. You knew about us and still kept seeing him."

You feel a pang of guilt but you keep your  voice calm. “Sharon, Bucky is in a conflict with himself, the winter soldier is still fighting to stay.” Sharon scoffed, shaking her head. She doesn't listen. "You’re pathetic. Both of you." 

With that, Sharon stormed back to her car and drove away, you felt a profound sense of loss wash over you.

You watch as the car disappeared down the road and step inside the farmhouse again with a heavy sigh.

Bucky Barnes stood in the middle of an icy, snow-covered field, the frosty air biting into his skin. The winter sun cast long shadows, and the quiet was almost eerie. In his mind, a battle raged between the memories of his past and the life he was trying to build.

Suddenly, the silence was shattered by the appearance of a figure he knew all too well: the Winter Soldier.

It was like looking into a twisted mirror, seeing himself in the cold, unfeeling eyes of the assassin he once was. 

The Winter Soldier stood still, his expressionless face partially hidden by a black mask, his metal arm glinting in the dim light.

"You can't run from me, Bucky," the Winter Soldier said, his voice a mechanical growl.

"You think you can hide behind new memories, but I am always a part of you."

Bucky clenched his fists, feeling the weight of his past pressing down on him. "I'm not you anymore," he replied, his voice firm but strained. "I've changed."

The Winter Soldier smirked, a chilling sight. "You think you've found love with Sharon, but you're lying to yourself. You know who your heart truly belongs to."

Bucky's mind flashed to memories of you, the woman who had been a beacon of warmth in his life after he was freed from Hydra's control. Your smile, your laugh, the way you made him feel like he could be more than just a weapon. But then there was Sharon, dependable and strong, someone who understood the world of espionage and danger.

"You don't know anything about love," Bucky spat back. "You're just a ghost."

 "You can't hide from me, Bucky. You can't hide from what you really want." Bucky squared his shoulders, trying to steady his racing heart. "I won't let you control me anymore," he replied, his voice resolute. "I'm not the Winter Soldier."

The Winter Soldier's lips curled into a mocking smile. "You're right. You're not me. But you can't deny the truth. You can't deny who you truly love.”

Bucky's mind flashed to memories of you, the warmth of your smile, the gentleness of your touch. But there was also Sharon, strong and dependable.

He had tried to convince himself that being with her was the right choice, the safe choice. Yet, the Winter Soldier's words cut through his defenses.

"I care about Sharon," Bucky insisted, but even as he spoke, doubt clouded his mind. The Winter Soldier took a step closer, his gaze piercing. "But you love y/n. You know it. I know it. You're just too afraid to admit it.”

Bucky felt a surge of anger and confusion. "Why do you care? You're just a remnant of my past. You don't know anything about love."

The Winter Soldier's expression softened slightly, a rare hint of emotion breaking through. "Because I'm a part of you, Bucky. I know everything you feel, even the things you try to bury. You can't run from yourself."

Bucky clenched his fists, the internal struggle tearing him apart. 

"I don't want to hurt Sharon. She's been through enough."

The Winter Soldier shook his head. 

"You don't have to hurt her, but you have to be honest. With her, with y/n, and with yourself. You owe them that."

Bucky's resolve wavered, memories of you flooding his mind. He remembered how you made him feel alive, how your presence had brought him peace in the chaos of his past. He had been trying to build a new life, but it was a life without the one person who truly made him whole.

"How do I do it?" Bucky asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "How do I make things right?"

The Winter Soldier stepped back, his mission complete. "You start by being honest. Go to y/n. Tell her how you feel. Fight for her. You have to be willing to face the pain to find the happiness you deserve. Then we can be one and live happy."

Bucky watched as the Winter Soldier faded into the snowy landscape, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Leaving the snowy landscape behind, Bucky set off on a journey that was both literal and emotional.

He traveled across snowy landscapes and through bustling cities, driven by the hope of making things right. 

When he finally reached your doorstep again after he was on the farm where he left you behind and didn't find you there, his heart pounded in his chest.

He knocked and after a few moments, the door opened. You stood there, your eyes widening in surprise and uncertainty. "Bucky? What are you doing here?”

"I came to see you," Bucky said, his voice shaking with emotion. "I need to tell you the truth. I made a mistake, y/n. I thought being with Sharon was the right thing to do, but it was a lie. I love you. I never stopped loving you.”

Your eyes filled with tears, but you didn't move. "Bucky, you hurt me. You broke up with me, without a good reason. Then as you fall back into the winter Soldier mode, you suddenly remember me?" 

"I know," Bucky said, stepping closer. "And I'm so sorry. I was scared, confused. But I can't hide from my feelings anymore. You mean everything to me, y/n. Please, give me another chance to prove it."

For a long moment, you just look at him, your expression unreadable, even a bit disappointed. Then, slowly, you nodded. "It's not going to be easy, Bucky. You've hurt me deeply."

"I know," Bucky said, his voice filled with determination. "But I'm willing to fight for us. I'll do whatever it takes."

You took a deep breath, your eyes searching his. Finally, you stepped aside, letting him into your home and, tentatively, back into her heart. 

“That is your last chance, Bucky. You can be lucky, I love you.”

“I promise, to do everything, you earn your trust. I love you too, so so much.”

It was the beginning of a new journey for both of them, one that would require patience, trust, and a lot of healing. But Bucky was ready to face it, knowing that this time, he was fighting for the right reasons. And as they sat together, the warmth of the fire contrasting with the cold outside, Bucky felt a sense of peace. He was no longer running from his past. He was embracing it, using it to build a better future. For himself, and for the woman he loved.

[binniebakery]

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Non Idol AU Ex!Yeonjun x Gn!Reader, Angst ♡Warnings: no happy ending, not proofread, cursing, I'm almost 90% this is gender neutral but if there is a mistake please let me know! ♡A/N: im so sorry this took forever to come out gfdgjhksd but its here! since this is my first time writing angst I'm not sure how i feel about this one but.. that's me with all my yeonjun fics... lmfao enjoy

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴: "Above the Chinese Restaurant" By Laufey 𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴: "Don't Let Me Go" By Cigarettes After Sex

0:09 ━●────────── 3:43 ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷

——-˖⁺. ༶ ❤︎ ⋆˙⊹ 𐦍 ˖⁺. ༶ ❤︎ ⋆˙⊹——-

There you lay in the quiet solitude of your dimly lit room. The only source of light being the soft glow of your bedside lamp and a candle that smelled of sandalwood and something oddly familiar.

The outside world remained silent, a contrast to the buzzing thoughts that swarmed your mind. Your new apartment was quiet, lonely, and grey. It was nights like these that had you reminiscing those warm summer days you spent in the city.

Glancing over at the nearest window, you find yourself in a moment of deja vu. You’ve been here before– in this position looking outside as you lay in bed.

Except this time you weren’t waiting for anyone, it was just you and the sound of your ticking clock as the arms slowly moved to the next hour.

Time always seems to go by quicker than you can notice.

Your mind wanders back through the corridors of your memories as you clutch the soft fabric of your comforter. You let out a deep sigh as you find yourself reliving those memories again.

It’s cozy, you have a wonderful view of the greenery outside, it’s spacious, it’s a safe neighborhood, and your apartment is brand new. All of this and you would think ‘how could anyone ask for more?’

You realize it all fails in comparison to those distant memories. It's quite foggy really, you can’t really remember them too well leaving you pondering if so much time had really slipped away from you.

Just like he did

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆｡°

July 8th, Summer.

You and Yeonjun were simply young and dumb. At least that's what your parents would always say. Two ambitious individuals who found each other at a time when it seemed like the world was against you both.

Your families were against you moving into the city, but you were both young and desperate to start a new life together. It took weeks of couch surfing but despite the financial issues, you both managed to find that small apartment right above that old, run-down Chinese restaurant.

That summer the whole neighborhood spoke of the new young couple moving in, though you two paid no mind. Yeonjun enjoyed the attention and you were willing to endure anything as long as nobody spoke ill of either of you.

You remember Yeonjun’s small car lugging your belongings up the hill, and the minute you two arrive he’s opening the passenger door and pulling you into a hug.

He’s spinning you around and you’ve never felt happier. The summer heat burned down and your skin had tanned an awful lot, causing you to feel insecure about the obscure tan lines you modeled.

Of course, Yeonjun complimented you to the moon and back, kissing every bit of skin while his own was left sunburned. He always made you feel special no matter the occasion.

This moment was no less different, that bright, toothy grin of his as he clumsily plops down to lay with you on your shared futon.

“Got a gig next week, gonna earn so much too, I’ll buy you dinner every day for the next month!” Your boyfriend exclaims with his arms in the air.

You laugh at his expressive antics, leaning towards him to pull him in for a tight embrace.

“Don’t worry about that jjunie, I don’t need fancy dinners from you.”

“But I wanna,” he pouts “I gotta do something to make up for you working so hard!”

“Alright but nothing too expensive, we should be saving up..” You raise an eyebrow as Yeonjun makes himself comfortable laying his head in your lap.

“Mm, we’ll see” he chuckles and despite him burying his face into your thighs you can see the way his grin grows ever-so wider.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆｡°

While Yeonjun chased his dream of being the biggest rockstar the world had ever known, you worked as a dishwasher just downstairs and occasionally picked up any odd jobs you could find when you had the time.

You didn’t mind being the breadwinner– after all, you were content just being by your lover's side.

Yeonjun would come home in the early hours of the morning, returning from his latest gig that his small band managed to grab.

He’d quietly push open the door to your apartment, he'd set his guitar down with care on the floor and slip off his boots as silently as he could manage, mindful not to disturb your sleep after a long day of work.

He was always a gentleman, slipping beneath the covers beside you and gently pressing a tender kiss to your forehead as a silent apology for the missed "goodnight" texts he always promised to send but always ended up being too busy with his performances.

Your life with him wasn’t perfect, but regardless you had everything you could ever need.

It didn’t matter that the water always ran cold during the winter, the lack of heat or cool air circulation, the thin walls and loud neighbors, the constant sound of sirens running through the streets at night, or even the unstoppable growing mold in the corner of your bathroom.

You two were happy regardless of the trials this life had brought you.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆｡°

September 30th, Fall

You’re clutching that same old soft comforter, except this time echoes of soft laughter and plates clinking could be heard bouncing off the thin walls of your humble apartment.

Yeonjun lights the candle he had just bought, the scent of sandalwood filling the air as he finds his way to you.

“If you listen closely you can hear Mr. Wang snoring” Yeonjun whispers as he snuggles closer to your shaking form in an attempt to warm you both.

You toss another dumpling into your mouth and grin.

“Sometimes I wish that was all we heard at night. I don’t know how much longer I can stand his bed creaking on Fridays..” You snicker and that was all it took for your boyfriend to burst into a fit of giggles.

“Shhh! My love please!” You whisper loudly as you lean over your shared futon to cover his mouth.

Yeonjun holds back tears as he attempts to regain composure. You grab a dumpling from your plate and shove it into his mouth.

Your boyfriend happily munches as you sigh, a wide smile on your face despite wanting to be annoyed. “You think the restaurant will give us more if I head back down?” He looks down at his empty plate, stomach rumbling and his eyes look back at you. His face resembled a child getting caught doing something they weren’t supposed to, guilty look on his face.

You find yourself giggling at how cute he looks, hand reaching to gently caress his cheek. Yeonjun smiles and lets the food in his mouth peek out slightly.

“Aw jjunie thats gross!” You laugh, pushing him away.

Yeonjun laughs as well, cheekbones popping out in all their glory from the way his smile extends impossibly more and you feel yourself falling even more impossibly in love.

That ends up being how the both of you spend the rest of your night, attempting to remain silent so as not to get another noise complaint. Sharing jokes and silent tickle fights, the perfect distraction against the autumn weather.

If only your nights stayed like this forever.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆｡°

February 22nd or 23rd? You could never really remember the date.

Despite winter soon making it’s leave, you stay stuck inside the restaurant building with Yeonjun as the winter storm still roars on outside.

“Jjunie! I’m home!” You chirp as you open the door to your apartment.

Yeonjun looks up from his phone, laying on the worn couch you had both found on someone’s lawn with a sign that said ‘please take’. Despite your sour look Yeonjun somehow managed to convince you both to take it “looks like it’s still in good condition to me” he awkwardly smiled as he wiped off the remaining dust. 

You shake your head smiling at the memory.

“Hey, you. How was work?” He smiles and pats the empty spot next to him for you to sit.

“Same old, but it wasn’t that busy today. I even managed to take a nap in the freezer before Mr Wang noticed me.” You grinned.

Yeonjun lets out a chuckle and you crawl into his lap, resting your head on his shoulder.

He opens the blanket he was currently wrapped in and invites you in to join him in his little burrito.

You bury your face into his neck, inhaling that familiar scent you grew to love. Yeonjun places a hand on your back and rubs small circles as he plants a kiss on your hairline.

“Hey, I know that you’ve been out a lot. You know– busy with band stuff, but do you think you could maybe get a small side gig to help us out?” You looked at him with a nervous smile.

You knew Yeonjun took his band career seriously. He did everything he could to help, taking any small gig he and his bandmates could find. But most of the time it just felt like it wasn’t enough to pay the bills.

“Baby… we talked about this before.. You know I–” 

Before Yeonjun can finish his response, your conversation gets interrupted.

Creak

“What the–”

“Is that the roof?” Yeonjun squints his eyes as he looks at the wooden planks above him. You both sit in silence staring upwards, waiting for the odd sound to play again.

Nothing.

“Huh..” You lift yourself off your boyfriend and stand in the middle of your tiny living room, eyes still concentrated on trying to figure out where the sound was coming from.

..Creak…

“Ah shit–! Y/n look out!” Yeonjun jumps off the couch and grabs your wrist, pulling you towards him as part of your roof collapses right on top of the spot you were standing on. A fresh blanket of snow pouring in.

“Holy fuck, fuck fuck fuck–”

“Y/n are you okay?! Did you get hurt?!” His hands grab your face and his eyes are scanning for any injuries.

“I- I’m fine but our roof just fucking caved in!??! Shit, I could have been crushed!” Your jaw was practically dropped at the situation.

Yeonjun pulls away and walks towards the pile of wood and snow to assess the damage.

And as if right on cue, another fresh blanket of snow falls right on top of him. “AH!” Yeonjun yells, shaking off the remaining snow sitting on his head.

“Stupid fucking roof! I hate this damn apartment, not only do we not have any heat but we don’t even have a roof!”

“Pffft–!”

Yeonjun looks over and sees your face almost red, doubled over as you tried your best to keep in your laughter and he can’t help but feel his anger dissipate at the sight.

He hadn’t seen you laugh or smile like this in a while.

“You–! you look so stupid right now– I’m sorry!” You breathe out, falling on the couch as you let out a heavy laugh.

Your boyfriend beams, seeing you like this was better than any blanket or heater. His heart skips as you pull him in to lightly dust off the remaining snow.

So what if it took half of your savings jar and Yeonjun sacrificing almost a whole night of sleep to fix the roof? Every penny and splinter was worth seeing that priceless smile of yours.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆｡°

April 3rd, Spring. After two weeks of nonstop work, you finally had a day off the same day Yeonjun was home for the day.

You took the opportunity to splurge and eat in. You put on your favorite movie as you folded both of your laundry, Yeonjun making comments every now and then, pausing to get up and check on the stew you were making.

You found yourself wishing your days were like this more often. You knew he was busy and you respected that he wanted to chase his dreams, and who were you to get in the way of that?

Unbeknownst to you, Yeonjun had been silent the last few minutes.

Suddenly, you feel his figure scoot behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “One day I’m gonna make enough money for us to get out of this dump.” He mumbles into your neck.

“Huh?” You looked up from the pile of clothing that you were attending to.

“You heard me, I’m gonna make it big. The day that I do, I’m gonna buy you brand new clothes, a cute dog, we’re gonna live in a mansion, and then get married.”

Your face flushes and you smile. This was the first time Yeonjun had ever mentioned marriage to you.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, gonna be the biggest star this world will ever know. My face is gonna be plastered on every billboard. Then, we’ll have kids.. and then when I’m too old to perform, we’re gonna be so rich you’ll never have to work another day in your life” he grins.

“Feeling a little ambitious are we?” You giggle, raising an arm to pat his head. His hair felt soft, it had been so long since you ran your fingers through it. You find yourself closing your eyes as you begin to imagine your ideal future.

“Say whatever you want. It’s gonna happen!” Yeonjun raises a fist in the air, as if giving a speech to a crowd and you feel as if you couldn’t have been more in love with him in that moment.

One day, he’s gonna be in front of a real crowd, the largest one he’s ever seen, and you swear you’ll be front row cheering him on.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆｡°

May 16th, Spring.

You throw his bag down in frustration. “So this entire fucking time you were just going out and having fun? Drinking with your bandmates while I’m here working my ass off trying to keep a roof over our heads?!”

Yeonjun sighs and grits his teeth.

“No. I’m not just going out and having fun. Yes, I admit! Sometimes we’re out of luck and Soobin can’t get us a fucking gig. We go to a place and have a few drinks to destress, but I promise you I am trying my hardest! I do everything I can to get a shitty gig, I hang out with other douchebag bands so we can get connections y/n! Con-nec-tions! You ever fucking heard of that?!”

Another argument, the 4th night in a row.

This time you were cleaning around the apartment, finding Yeonjun’s bag as he took his shower before heading out for the evening to meet with his bandmates. ‘A huge meeting talking about an upcoming event they’re going to perform at’ he claimed.

You open his bag, knowing that he’d appreciate you cleaning up the trash he had inside. He trusted that you wouldn’t toss any of his half-written lyrics or important documents anyway.

That’s when you see it, three– no four– crumble receipts inside the inner pocket. You unscramble them to see they’re all charges from bars. Not just the same one, but multiple, containing only large orders of alcoholic drinks with the occasional snack to go along.

Anger consumes you before you think rationally, and as Yeonjun walks out of the shower with just a towel around his waist shaking his wet black hair, you shove the receipts in his face.

After minutes of back and forth, the tension grows immensely thicker. And before you both even notice, it all turns into a yelling match. 

He explains that it’s due to him not being able to find proper gigs as of recently, and how drinking will destress him, going off on a rant about how it’s normal in the industry to drink with managers and other bands to get a good rep. “Do you even fucking care about us!? We live in a dump! I had to call someone to fix our dishwasher three times last month! What if I get fired or laid off? We’re just gonna live on the fucking streets?! Be realistic Yeonjun! Be fucking realistic!”

“Maybe the issue is you don’t care y/n.. You just don’t understand that I’m serious! I’m taking this shit all seriously! I’m sorry I can’t find a proper job right now, but I need just more time.. And if you can’t respect my dream then honestly.. Maybe I should just fucking go right now for good.”

You couldn’t even respond. The tears in your eyes began to drip down and Yeonjun could only watch as your eyebrows furrow more, face scrunching up in an attempt to hide the frustration you were feeling.

He knew you hated crying, especially in front of him.

Had your eye bags always been so deep?

Yeonjun’s lips part and you hear his breath hitch the second it all starts crashing down on him. 

He stares at how disheveled your hair is. The way your skin looked so pale and almost blue under the dim light of the moon from your opened blinds. He remembers the way he used to kiss up your sunkissed arm the first few months you both moved into your tiny apartment. Letting the sun shine through the windows as you both danced slowly to whatever bossanova song played through your vintage radio.

Those first few months of summer were golden. They were warm like your skin on his when he woke up in the morning to you with his arms wrapped around your waist. Now your skin looked cold, dull, and you looked stretched thin.

How could he have just noticed all this? He was living with you the whole time.

In reality, he stopped being present a long time ago.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆｡°

The following days Yeonjun was nowhere to be seen.

You cried every day, constantly looking over to the door to see if he would just waltz in, big grin as he held a golden contract to a label over your head. You glanced over at the couch often, expecting your lover to be sitting as usual on his phone or hunched over writing whatever lyrics he could muster.

You called and texted but no response was ever given. Even if you had a car, not that walking would stop you, you had no idea of his whereabouts. Where would you even begin to look?

Then finally at the end of the week, Yeonjun returns home.

You weren’t there when he arrived, you still had to work despite the fact that things were rough. So when you return that night, all that’s left is your stuff and a note.

To my dearest y/n, Sorry for everything. I hope you understand that I need to do things my way right now. This is stupid but I'm sure you can imagine where this is going. Maybe in the future we’ll find each other again, but as of right now, I have to leave. If you need me you have my number,  See you around baby -Yeonjun

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆｡°

Shortly after, you find yourself moving out of that old apartment. You never texted or called Yeonjun, and he never did so to you either.

As time goes by and the seasons pass, you can’t help but wonder where he ended up.

Did he continue to seek that dream he always wanted?

Maybe being with you was his biggest dream all along,

He just didn’t know it then.

Deep down Yeonjun wished he could have shown his appreciation for you more. How much he wished to give you a better life, to be a better boyfriend. How much he wished that on those nights when he’d arrive late in the morning hours, you’d wake up to see him giving you those gentle kisses, or how he’d double check to make sure the blanket was properly covering your sleeping figure.

Oh, how Yeonjun would never know about those faded photographs you still have saved from your old polaroid camera. Both of you with wide smiles as you sat in the pile of snow in the middle of your living room. You often found yourself wishing you could go back. Go back to when things were simpler, go back to that summer you moved in that tiny apartment.

As these nights go on, so does time. Therefore the tears that you find yourself wiping away eventually dry, and you let these memories go with a sigh. They carry themselves away along with the gentle breeze that whispers through your open window. And as that sandalwood candle’s wick flickers out, you realize so does the love you once held for him.

[slaymitchabernathy]

Red

“I don’t like that color.”

Coriolanus sighs at the snippy tone. He’s gotten used to it over the years, how she still tries to poke at him, push his buttons, fight him on every decision.

She’ll learn one day.

“I always paint them this color darling,” he reminds her with a tone all too gentle for the way she just addressed him. But he’s patient with his girl. For the most part.

“None of my friends paint their toes red anymore. Now it’s pink.”

Coriolanus raises his eyebrows as he continues to paint even, red strokes of polish onto his girlfriend’s toes, acting as if he’s so interested in what her silly little friends are doing.

He’s met some of her friends. Seen how stupid those girls are, their boyfriends too. All so bubbly and not at all driven.

“Then you’ll be extra special,” he says, finishing with her left foot. It’s a good thing Coriolanus doesn’t mind feet. Not that he actively seeks them out, but he doesn’t mind his girlfriend’s small feet. Not when he gets little moments like this with her. And she giggles whenever he tickles her feet too, so that’s nice.

Soarynn huffs but doesn’t say anything in reply. He’s glad. He’s had a long day at work. He never thought such a domestic task would bring him such serenity, but for some reason, he truly enjoys painting his girlfriend’s toes.

It all happened on a whim. The nail salon she normally frequented got closed down—rat infestation— and Soarynn was without a place to get her pedicures.

Coriolanus being the economic man he was offered to paint her toes for her. It was a bit of a joke at first, what could he possibly know about painting toenails? But he knew how to make things work, how to overcome and adapt.

He was a Snow after all. And he’d been through a lot in his younger years, survived a lot, learned a lot.

Soarynn preferred white toenails at the time but he’s convinced her to go with red. It would be a one-time thing anyway. But then it turned into every once in a while until every three weeks Coriolanus Snow was painting his girlfriend’s toes.

In a way it was embarrassing. Here he was, the powerful Coriolanus Snow hunched over while his girlfriend placed her feet in his lap. But he didn’t mind. He did it out of love. And pride. But mostly love.

None of Soarynn’s friends had boyfriends who were as dedicated as he was to her. None of those sorry excuses for men were willing to come home after a long day of work and do something as tedious as this. But here he was.

“What did you do today while I was at work, my love?” He asks, gently taking her other foot and placing it on his knee. He’s learned to be more gentle over the years because of her, more kind, to smile more.

He’s usually so focused on the task at hand that he barely spares her a glance but he looks up at her just this once to truly admire the piece of work Soarynn Nightingale is.

Her head is tilted while she thinks. It’s cute. How she probably did two things today but has to think so hard about them. He likes that about her, how utterly clueless and dumb his girl can be sometimes. She’s smart when she wants to be. When she wants to run that mouth of hers.

“Well I woke up around ten,” she starts.

Coriolanus woke up at six. Like he does every day, six days a week. He wakes up to his alarm and rolls onto his back, wondering why he had to go and be so ambitious with his work.

He slips out of bed, showers, does his morning routine before putting on the clothes he picked out the night before. He sprays on some cologne before leaving the bathroom. All that’s left is to say goodbye.

Soarynn is always fast asleep. Her blonde head of hair peeking out from under the thick duvet covers. He presses a kiss to her forehead before leaving for work. Then she wakes up four hours later.

“Then I got lunch with Clemmie around one, maybe one-thirty.”

At one-thirty Coriolanus was in his fifth meeting of the day, buried in spreadsheets and concerns about the District’s production quotas.

“Oh and then I did a little shopping. Not too much I swear.”

Coriolanus smiles to himself as he paints even strokes on all five of her toes. As spoiled as she can be—which is his own doing—Soarynn is always careful when handling his money. He appreciates that about her. How she knows it’s his, not hers. That plastic card he gave her is a privilege and it can be taken away.

He never takes it away though.

He likes seeing her spend his money. Remembering when he had none makes him more proud to see his girlfriend carting around handfuls of bags all filled with frivolous nonsense. It makes her happy though. If that counts for something.

Her card is red.

He gave it to her on her twentieth birthday. She’d been so excited, jumping up and down and kissing him silly. He likes taking care of his girl, fixing all her problems. And goodness does she have a lot of problems. They’re all so easy to fix. The sink is leaking, she can’t find her favorite pair of heels, the restaurant she always goes to doesn’t have any available tables for her and her friends.

All such simple, elementary problems that he solves with the wave of his hand.

He calls the plumber who arrives in twenty minutes. Because when you’re a Snow, people tend to bend to your beck and call. He buys her ten new pairs of heels, all the same style as her favorites, but a variety of colors. He knows the owner of the restaurant who happily moves some people around until his girl and her friends have the best table in the house.

It’s easy to make Soarynn happy. And when she’s happy, he’s happy.

Because Coriolanus Snow isn’t a good man when he’s mad.

He sees red when he’s mad.

Soarynn’s only witnessed it a handful of times. Seen how mad he can really get, how mean and aggressive he becomes.

He thinks it’s a good thing though. She knows not to test him. Not to push him.

So when he insists on painting her toenails red, she doesn’t argue with him for long.

That’s when she’s smart, uses her senses, her charms.

It’s probably because she remembers the one time she got in his way, made him more upset, pushed him too far.

She remembers that night. How he yelled, how he pushed her, how he grabbed her.

They both saw the same color that night.

It’s the same color they’re seeing right now on her toes. The same color they don’t talk about even though it sits in the back of their minds. In a way it leads them to both despise the color due to the nasty memory it brings up.

But they don’t talk about it.

How it always seems to lead to red.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

[babiebom]

Where they fall in omegaverse Dynamics (stardew edition)

A/N: no i don’t know what’s wrong with me but now we all get to experience the inner workings of my mind :) enjoy OBVIOUSLY KIDS ARE NOT INCLUDED I was gonna do everyone but decided I didn’t know enough about a lot of the characters so only people I know :)this is hella old btw

Tw: sexual mentions, cursing, some insults to certain characters but like that’s not new here.

Genre: shitpost, headcanons

Masterlist

Alpha- top of the hierarchy. Dominant, and usually in charge. Hot heads and breeders.

Abigail- i think she would be an alpha that acts like a beta or omega. No one would actually know she’s an alpha until she loses her temper or goes off scent blockers or something.

Alex- typical dudebro and will be doing the breeding thank you. I feel like he would be a stereotypical alpha like this is a given.

Sebastian- DONT KILL ME PLS this is kinda biased because I know for a fact that I am literally Penny but an actual person and he is the one I am attracted to so naturally I want to put him here. I am probably delusional but I also think he could take charge so hmph.

Shane- can’t see him being bred bc i think he would be doing the breeding. When he takes control of his insecurities and stuff I think he could be super confident and leader like. Just needs to not be depressed.

Pierre- it’s his personality tbh. Like while I desperately do not want him to be in this category based on how much I dislike him, he would go into this category purely because of how he acts. He wants the most money, he’a the “man of the house” and provider, he has a temper he would just be an annoying alpha.

Kent- sexy hawt military man is obviously an alpha. There is no way he is being bred, there is no way he is going to be the homemaker, being an alpha is literally the only thing that makes sense for him.

Mr.Qi - he gives off alpha vibes, no omega or beta could be this confident and mysterious for absolutely no reason other than just being that way idk.

Evelyn - she gives off the vibes that when she and George were younger they were the “it’s fine/HE ASKED FOR NO PICKLES” couple. I think she could whoop somebody’s ass back in the day.

Robin- she is the woman with a business, she is providing, she is building, she is alpha no question about it.

Gunther- it’s the way he tips his hat idk. Also the way he’s just like “oh you don’t have any cool artifacts? Get out of my face then.” Maybe not that mean but like vibes.

Sandy- HAVE YOU SEEN HER? she is alpha, the would never be a beta or omega that is not her style at all sorry.

Marlon- man kills monsters for a living. Like no omega is going to waste time on that or even do that if I’m honest. Leave monster killing to the people who don’t have other things to do.

Pam- she gives off alpha that had their omega leave them vibes and that’s why she’s a crappy mother because it was not supposed to be her job.

Lance- literally a fighter/adventurer. The man protects and attacks he has to be an alpha, there is no way an omega can do this, and due to him being an active adventurer, and him being protective makes him more alpha than beta.

Olivia- an alpha mother that wants her beta son(spoiler) to be more like her. She active in getting money, or at least I think she has stocks. And she’s more ambitious than I think an omega or beta would be.

Andy-is this because he gives off asshole vibes? Mayhaps. He just seems like he’s an alpha whose family left him so he’s bitter at the world. A corpo slave to so where else would he go?

Suki- boss bitch that actually sneaks into the capital(or whatever it is) and steals and gets other people to give her contraband so she can sell it to bitches at a high price for her risking her life. Would never bow down to anyone.

Beta- in the middle simply because they are neither dominant nor submissive. They do not give off smells nor do they have heats or ruts. Basic people tbh.

Emily- she is just vibes. No amount of sex or heats or ruts or pheromones will bother her. She is above that and is too busy making clothes for birds.

Leah- I think she would literally just be middle ground because she gives off those vibes. Also because I think she could possibly end up with either an alpha or omega, it literally doesn’t matter to her.

Maru- she is literally just science. I am sorry but there is no time for breeding and going feral because of heats, she needs to make this robot and she needs to make it now.

Harvey- I also would’ve put him in Omega but since he is a doctor I feel like that means he is a beta. Like I don’t think alpha or omegas would be able to have this job since instincts and stuff are a major part in how they act. Betas would be able to ignore everything else and just work idk.

Clint- doesn’t give omega vibes but definitely is not an alpha. Like not to jump on the Clint hate train, but he gives off angry beta vibes that wishes he was an alpha. He doesn’t have confidence, and he seems like a loser tbh. He probably wishes he was an alpha to get Emily, or even any girl that he likes, but doesn’t realize that she and maybe even the rest don’t really care if he’s an alpha or not so he’s mad for nothing.

Morris- he is literally just a worker bee. No sex, no love, just working and getting to the top and having money. The man is only ruled by money, no amount of good smelling things and sexy prospects will entice him.

Willy- a man who just wants to fish. He also gives off alpha vibes, but I think he is too comfortable to be around and too chill and level headed to be an alpha. Love him.

Magnus- I think he just magically made himself a beta in order to not have any distractions. Was married once, it was a mistake, he impregnated a person that lives in Pelican Town (*cough* Caroline *cough*) and she went back to her husband so he doesn’t want any other distractions. It’s only time for magic and protecting the town.

Linus- cannot be an alpha or omega and be comfortable living alone in a tent. He is just a nature man and it would not make any sense for him to be anything but a beta.

Demetrius- like father like daughter, the only thing that matters is science he just somehow ended up with a hot wife. She is happy being a provider and he is happy doing his science.

Grandpa- I have no idea I refuse to put him under either because it’s either admitting he is fuckable and submissive or dominant and a fucker. Absolutely not.

Lewis- hate him he has baby balls with how he treats Marnie, yeah he’s a leader being mayor, but no true alpha would act like this. He’s an asshole that is making himself seem like an even bigger asshole in an attempt to seem like an alpha.

Victor- is only ambitious about things he cares about, which is similar to the others on this list. Doesn’t wish to really do anything with his life other than what he is passionate about, like bridges.

Susan- all she wants to do is be on her farm as far as I know. I would’ve put her in alpha but she doesn’t give off those vibes she just seems normal? Like she’s able to take charge but won’t if she doesn’t have to?

Omega - definition of submissive and breedable. At the bottom of the hierarchy and their main purpose is to breed and serve the alphas. Sadge.

PENNY- the literal definition of submissive and breedable. Like yes? This is her actual dream? She would love this.

Haley- has the personality of an Alpha but is not one. Just extremely bratty. The right person will make her submit naturally and not just because of her status.

Sam- sweet boy Sam is deffo an omega. Maybe not super submissive but I think that underneath the childishness he would be a good homemaker. Like I think that his relationship with his younger brother shows that he is on the more nurturing side rather than the I have to provide side.

Elliott- Elliott stans don’t hate me. But he gives off worshiper vibes and not the person being worshipped. Maybe it’s his love notes and letters but I think he would do good with an alpha he could serenade all day.

Caroline- I feel like only an omega could deal with Pierre. She always complains about him working all the time and how he behaves but she never does anything about it. Omega behavior.

Jodi- an omega that hates being an omega. She is in charge of child rearing, and is the homemaker but hates it. Wishes she could be a beta and wishes she could’ve waited to get married and have kids. She is so unhappy this is her biology.

George- Evelyn’s bitch. I’m sorry. But like we all know that George is Evelyn’s sub. Idc.

Marnie- the most obvious out of the villagers that isn’t a bachelorette. Like yearns for a family and marriage and romance. She wants it, she needs it, unfortunately attached herself to an asshole.

Gus- yes he is a business man, but all he cares about is feeding everyone and providing a place for them to Hang out. He is an omega that found his calling in serving people instead of having kids and we love him for it.

Sophia- this girl isn’t Alpha at all. Like bffr she’s depressed, shy, and quiet. And her hobby is cosplay. Girl is one hundred percent an omega. Even though she owns her parents company, I think she isn’t like business motivated, only is happy that it’s this company specifically and allows her to garden idk.

Claire- she is different from the others on this list. Because she is motivated, she wants to be an actress and does work and provide for herself. I think though if she met the right person that would provide while she chases her dreams she would like it. Even her hobbies seem soft to me (reading, ballet. )