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moonchild1 · 11 months

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jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅸ)

hi everyone wow it's really been a while and i'm on list 9 already damnnn that's alot and list 10 is like half way complete already... soooo you might notice a change in the set up this time around i liked how it looked on my ao3 list so i added it here as well, i absolutely love this list like i've gone over this list a million times it's filled with alot of fics i was absolutely obsessed with, you know how attached i get to the characters and this list holds quite a few of them too so i hope you enjoy reading them as much as i did and you fall for them too... remember to give lots of love to the authors of these fics they are absolute geniuses and deserve all the respect and love in this world for creating these beautiful fics and sharing it with us so be sure to give them a follow, like and reblog or even leave a little comment i'm 100% percent sure it would mean alot to them 🥺🖤 also as these fics contain smut no under minors allowed/interact... if you would like to share some of your favourites or just wanna ramble about fics you love send me an ask i love hearing from you guys and happy reading everyone till next time ✨🖤

a- angst s- smut f-fluff

series

dreamcatchers by @ggukcangetit f a

↬ DI Jeon didn’t need a new partner. Unfortunately, his superiors felt otherwise; especially considering the extremely high-profile murder that had just taken place in the port city. Recent transfer, DI Choi Yuri finds herself confronted with a new cityscape, unfamiliar people, a hostile partner, and a homicide that is certain to bring back unpleasant memories.

block party by @minlucent f s a

↬ moving into your new apartment brings back memories of your biggest mistake. neighbours au e2l

a little bit of your heart by @yoongiofmine f s a ft. myg

↬ you had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with min yoongi. you knew you and yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything yoongi couldn’t. Will jungkook show you what you’ve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten yoongi enough to do something about it?

lost stars by @/yoongiofmine f s a

↬ Jungkook was lost. He didn’t know who he was anymore, so he decided to leave and find himself. But he wasn’t expecting to find you along the way, an island girl who has no idea who he is. Jungkook has a secret. But so do you. idol au s2l

secrets we keep by @/yoongiofmine f s a

↬ Being a camgirl was never your main goal in life, but when the pandemic hit and you lost your job, you were desperate. Now, two years later, the world is back to normal and you are one of the top creators of OnlyChingu; the South Korean version of OnlyFans. A website where idols hide behind anonymous profiles in search of that connection they lost during lockdown. Jungkook was never into this type of stuff. Until he ran into you. He knows you’re his perfect girl, his ideal type. Will he be able to put his own insecurities aside when chasing you? Or will you let the secrets you keep ruin you? idol au

i hate you, i love you by @jungblue s a

↬ You hated him at seven, warmed up to him at twelve, and liked him at fifteen. Now the two of you are twenty years old and inseparable best friends… and you’re absolutely in love with him; he’s in love too—just not with you.

fatal attraction by @jungcock s a ft. kth

↬ your dangerous ex-boyfriend comes back to haunt you in more ways than one. exes au serial killer thriller

pub golf by @taleasnewastime f s

↬ One night. One stupidly hot man, who just keeps appearing in every pub you go to. Six friends. Nine pubs. Nine drinks. Ten million stupid rules. Let the chaos begin. s2l

animal by @cutaepatootie f s a

↬ boxer jungkook au ANGST

things you don't know by @btsgotjams27 a

↬ It’s been seven years since you last saw the boy that broke your heart. After moving back home, you try everything you can to avoid seeing him around town, but destiny has a wicked way of doing the opposite.

entangled by @caelesjjk f s a ft. kth

↬ Jeon Jungkook is Spider-Man. He saved your life twice. But he’s also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend. You care about him…maybe even love him. But something tells you that you aren’t quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well? Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world. What you didn’t know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.

when the end comes by @oddinary4bts f s a

↬ Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?

new girl by @jjkeverlast f s a

↬ after finding out your boyfriend of 6 years cheated on you, you find yourself moving in with three guys in a loft. what could possibly go wrong?

horizon by @/sokooks f s a

↬ The way you approached life had started to break down Jungkook's emotional barriers. Jungkook couldn't deny that he was drawn to you in a way that was entirely new and unfamiliar. You had become more than just an assignment; you had become someone he genuinely cared about. It was the way you made him feel. With you, he felt more human than he had in a long time. Despite his best efforts to remain detached, his heart had other plans. angel au

searching for nirvana by @/sokooks f s a

↬ he shouldn't be here. he shouldn't be touching you the way he was- but he was here before him. he was your friend, not him. he knew your body, not him. he wanted to be the only one to touch you the way you liked. he he wanted you to remember that. despite the fact that he already had someone waiting for him. best friends au cheating au.

twelve hours by @whatifyoulivelikethat s a

↬ you have twelve hours to make jeon jungkook fall in love with you. he's about to get married. you're the entertainment at his bachelor party - a burlesque dancer. long ago, he used to be the class representative and you used to be the class delinquent. nothing has changed and, yet, everything has.

when it all... by @7deadlysinsfics f a

↬ what’s there to do when your husband says he thinks he doesn’t love you anymore? you pick up the broken pieces the best you can and try to move on

better than me ? by @/7deadlysinsfics f s a

↬ jungkook is clear on what you both are to each other. still, he doesn’t want you to think anyone else is better than him

our first and our last by @thedefinitionofbts f a ft ot7

↬ The first time you met Jeon Jungkook was on your tenth birthday. On that day, he was nothing more than the strange man who jumped into a dark portal that suddenly opened in the middle of the park. The ten year old you just stood in the grass, strands of hair ruffling from the calm breeze that swooped by; head slightly tilted, bright, innocent eyes wide open and staring at him with wonder and disbelief. There was a certain amount of confusion, but your young mind was too naïve to question his actions or what they entailed. soulmate au

dancer in the dark by @gwoongi f s a

↬ Money can’t buy you happiness. Jeongguk, for the longest time, thinks he’s happy. Truthfully, Jeongguk doesn’t know what happiness is until you find him. rockstar au

together by @httpjeon f s a ft.pjm

↬domestic!au, couple!au, stoner!au, gamer!au

hot bot by @/httpjeon f s

↬ purchasing a Hot Bot wasn’t exactly something you ever really planned on. when you do, however, it sends your life down a path of convoluted government schemes and dark secrets.

stardust by @iamtaekooked f

↬ You didn’t believe in soulmates until you lay your eyes on Jeon Jeongguk, the younger brother of your best friend’s husband. That is when you see the red string beginning encircled around your pinky and ending in his

serendipity by @rohobi f s a

↬ After you reveal your inexperienced sexual status to your best friend, Jungkook grapples with the news, startled by the idea that the girl he always thought could get anyone, is a virgin. After finding his porn at 3AM, you decide that maybe it’s about time to stain the white sheets of your world with the colors of a forbidden fruit Jungkook seems to have in the palm of his hands.

chasing shadows by @colormepurplex2 s a

↬ Your job gets you into trouble sometimes. Who would have thought crime journalism would put so many targets on your back? But, it’s happening again, someone’s threatening you. Only, this time, it’s not just you that’s in the crosshairs. Your best friend, Enola, is out on assignment and can’t help like she usually does. So, what does she do instead? She sends her brother, Jungkook, armed with a magic bag, a charming smile, and deductive reasoning skills that prove his worth as one of the best PI’s around.

I gasp once, and in that breath, I accept you in by @inkofyoonkoo f s a

↬ In which Jungkook arrives to your small town to spend the holidays, and you slowly let go of all the ghosts of your past. s2l fwb au

sweet nothing by @adonis-koo f s a

↬ Being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself. His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.

three's a crowd by @/adonis-koo s a ft. jimin

↬ When your mom’s fairytale life begins to bleed over into your world you’re suddenly caught between two men and one big secret, what was supposed to be a relaxing trip soon begins to spiral out of control. All you wanted was a free vacation… ceo au

sleepwalking by @taexual f s a

↬ due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

empty space by @ahundredtimesover f s a

↬ It started as friendship, turned to a casual fuck, then ended in heartbreak. Turns out, he wasn’t who he said he was, and years later he enters your life again, forcing you to face all the emotions you’d been trying to bury.

OR Officer Jeon looks really hot in his uniform and you wish you didn’t hate him as much as you do.

as the world burns around us by @today-we-will-survive a

↬ You haven’t seen the sun in two years. The Virus wiped out a good three quarters of the world’s population and then the wars that followed wiped out half of that. After everything happened, it was only a matter of time before the different countries started blaming each other and emptied their nuclear arsenals. You’re still surprised Seoul survived – if you can call what it has become “surviving”

hotter than hell by @chateautae f s a

↬ jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.

to turn a bad thing good by @/chateautae f s a

↬ jungkook’s drunken one night stand goes awry when he comes to learn not only is he being forced into an arranged marriage, but it’s to the very girl he abandoned that night—and things get a lot more complicated when you’re the best hookup he’s ever had.

J’aime by @baepop f s a

↬ You’re the newest hire at a local café and head barista Jeon Jungkook takes you under his wing.

Written in the Stars by @/baepop f s a ft. kth

↬ You’re the girl of Jungkook’s dreams, literally. The only problem: you’re taken by his best friend

make me forget by @roseannekook f s a

↬ You are the lead vocalist and main dancer of your company’s first girl group, but on the fourth promotion of your debut song things don’t go as planned. At the brink of an uprising scandal, you seek refuge in the bathroom stalls…and find it in the arms of no one else but BTS’ golden maknae Jeon Jungkook.

one of your girls by @ggukiepie s a ft. pjm

↬ fwb au college au fuck boy au inspired by the song

boy in luv by @/ggukiepie f s a

↬ just two idiot best friends in l*ve college!au, bff!jk, athlete!jk, student council president oc, cheerleader!oc

the boy who left by @/gujoonim a

↬ As your eyes staring deeply into your possible client-to-be’s eyes, something crossed your mind, it was that pair of eyes that you were looking for when you being abandoned at the aisle on your wedding day. ceo au

love sewn by @jvnghxope s a

↬ You’ve never cared about the thin-as-paper walls of your beloved apartment until Jeon Jungkook moved next door. You could hear everything –from his late-night parties on Saturday, to the quality time he spent with his girlfriend in the intimacy of his bedroom. One day, everything ceases. Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months and you find yourself knocking his door before you can think it twice.

not yet by f s @bratkook f s a

↬ jungkook feels the pang of guilt in his gut when you spot your recent ex out with his new girl, and what better way to make the jerk hurt than to have him believe you were now dating him, the neighbor he had been insecure about your whole relationship.

one shot

blazes of deceit by @periminkle f a

↬ when the opportunity to finally venture past the stone walls you’ve grown up in presents itself, you jump at the chance to discover the origin of those mysterious lights—even if the trip comes with a harsh truth and a suspicious, yet undoubtedly attractive, tour guide. tangled au disney au

southpaw by @starshapedkookie f s a

↬ Knowing Jeon Jungkook for the better part of your life, you thought you knew everything about him. Well, that was before you two disappeared from each other’s lives at least. When Jungkook suddenly finds himself buying you a coffee to rekindle your friendship, it leads to much more than you bargained for.

house of cards by @jeonggukingdom s a

↬ What does safe mean when you are chased by zombies, when every corner you turn could be the last one for you? What do words like home and future mean when you’re always on the run and every moment could be your last? They mean nothing and everything at the same time and Jeongguk is all of the above. He is your safe haven, he is your home and he is your future. But things like that crumble easily in your world.

enouement by @littlemisskookie s a

↬ War is Hell, but it’s what you had to do to take your brother’s place. Of course, between the days of Hell are little slices of Heaven you’d call your Captain, Jeon Jungkook. mulan au disney au

miss taken by @junghelioseok f s

↬you pride yourself on being a professional, but sometimes your students' parents really test your patience. single parent dilfjk jk e2l

the ex text by @shadowkoo f s a

↬ The 2 AM texts have started again. It’s a bittersweet familiarity that you can’t run away from, and despite wishing to forget him: no one will ever measure up to the exceptional standard set by your ex, and you’ll never have anyone as good as him either. Like a permanent mark on your heart, Jungkook’s presence has become an insatiable craving, an addiction you'll never outgrow or cast aside.

the proposal by @hansolmates f s a

↬Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. based on the movie the proposal e2l

red and gold by @/thedefinitionofbts f s

↬It’s no secret that genius, billionaire, international playboy, and philanthropist- Jeon Jungkook, better known as the CEO of Jeon Industries-and even better known as Iron Man, is one of the most intelligent, wealthy, and powerful men in the world. There’s nothing that can get to him or his ego, that is, until you happen to show up and give him a run for his money.

burning bright by @snackhobi s

↬there are no secrets in the drift. if jungkook were to see the mess inside your head and heart, laid utterly bare, he’d turn away from you. based on the movie pacific rim

but we loved young by @jl-micasea-fics s a

↬Jungkook is everything you’re not, the ying to your yang. Your tight knit friendship nurtured from childhood survived the major life events that most don’t, and to that end, you suppose you’re fated to be together, until unrequited longing is eventually noticed, and boundaries are forever crossed.

the shoulder on which you cry by @lemonjoonah f s a ft. knj

↬ after moving away from your hometown five years ago, you’ve struggled on every return. each trip back being made out of haste due to an unfortunate event in your life. namjoon has always been there to help you through those moments. but when he can’t be there to support you during your current trip home, jungkook offers to stay by your side and be the comfort you need.

illusion of choice by @hobibliophile f s a

↬ You’ve grown up with the Jeons, Jungmin and Jungkook, for as long as you can remember, your parents being very close. But little did you know that this is because you are in fact arranged to be married to the Jeon heir, Jungmin. However, a tragedy causes Jungkook to take up his brother’s mantle, and that includes becoming your fiancé.

the blue princess and her red rose by @/cutaepatootie f s a

↬ After all, he was her red rose, while she was just another one of the many blue roses that grew in the dying gardens of Greyria. princess au

rigor mortis by @readyplayerhobi f s a

↬ A night out at a bar results in you going home with a young and attractive police officer. But if you think the night was something to remember, that’s nothing compared to waking up to find a zombie outbreak in the city. A chance encounter with Officer Jeon leads to him helping you escape from the plague infested city.

lowkey by @joonbird s

↬ Jungkook is the nude model for your art school’s life drawing class.

part-time lover by @sketchguk f s a

↬there is no crime more perfect than marrying jeon jeongguk. your relationship is nothing more than a ruse - while your friends pester you for being perpetually single, jeongguk desperately needs a wife to complete the pristine image of a family, fooling his way through the parent interview at the nation’s most prestigious private school. only time will tell how deep your lies will run as you find home in one another’s minds. because untangled in the moonlight, he is but a spy, exposing a secret world of corruption, and you, an assassin, ridding the streets of danger one hit at a time.

sweet apple biscuits by @rosaetae a

↬ a story about someone who receives letters from themselves ten years in the future and asks them to fix all their regrets and save a particular boy. inspired by the anime 'orange'

i'll be home by @wwilloww f s a ft.knj

↬ When your first love, Jungkook, disappeared from your village five years ago, no one thought he would return, let alone on the night of your betrothal to another man.

white lies by @noteguk f s a

↬ in which Jungkook lies his way out of and into trouble. But he can’t tell white lies when it comes to you.

yes coach by @/taleanewastime s

↬ You play in a local netball team and as a new season starts you have a new coach. Enter Jungkook, he may look soft, but he turns out to be a hard taskmaster, one who ruffles your feathers when he makes some changes to the team. Tensions grow between you through the weeks, until they finally reach breaking point.

spf 50 by @gimmeyoon f s

↬ If you have to spend your summer home from college working a job you hate, it might as well include sitting by the pool with Jungkook. Now if only kids could stop vomiting in it.

fifth wish by @jiminrings f a

↬ jeon jungkook, world-class socialite and nepotism baby, should be out every night to celebrate while he’s at his prime. why should he fake-date his bodyguard instead? alternatively, jungkook regularly throws coins to wishing wells with only one desire in mind — to get rid of you.

blacklisted by @/httpjeon s a ft. kth

↬after departing from your dom, you’re assigned to two incredibly powerful men.

↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library

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bamfkeeper · 2 months

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Kurt's instincts are still flaring...you know just how to help. 18+ under the cut. MDNI.

Sorta unofficial part two to my last Nightcrawler fic. That was originally going to be nsfw, but I decided against it because I have other nsfw pieces in the works. So this is sort of the smut version of that one. I'm glad I'm not the only one who wants to grab his horns.

Warnings: Afab reader, cunnilingus, unprotected, slightly rougher sex, marking, slight cum play? Unedited.

WC: 2.4k

Kurt had been quiet for a while.

After he had let out the 'darkness' within him, he just didn't feel like himself anymore. He was constantly battling his own mind, his very being, and it was utterly exhausting. Every day felt like a struggle that required all his energy. His mind flashed with the bodies of the fallen soldiers he had killed, their lifeless forms haunting his thoughts, and he often had trouble resting after those vivid, torturous memories resurfaced.

You tried your best to help him, to reassure and comfort him in every way you could think of, but you could only do so much for him. Despite all your efforts, some things couldn't be healed with mere reassurance. The act was done, and the scar was made, etched deeply into his soul. The emotional wounds were too profound, and words of comfort could only provide temporary relief from the pain he endured.

This was when he began to think...maybe it was better to let the darkness out. The pain of it all lessened when he did.

You were sitting with him in the privacy of your bedroom, where the soft glow of the evening light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm hue on everything. He sat behind you, his presence comforting as he leaned into your smaller form, providing a sense of security and closeness that you both cherished. He let out a quiet sigh, a sound so simple and quiet spoke volumes about the weight of his thoughts and the whirlwind of events that had been unfolding around him.

You noticed his somber mood and the lines of worry etched on his face, so you decided that perhaps a nap would help to relax him and ease his troubled mind. Sleep, you thought, was a temporary escape from reality, a gentle reprieve that could offer solace. You knew that it would at least give him a brief rest from his racing mind, a momentary pause in the chaos, allowing him to regain some peace and composure.

"I'm going to change real quick, I think we should take a nap. The afternoon has been quiet." You sat up a little and stood from the bed, slowly undressing and walking over to the closet. His golden eyes glued to your figure and he growled softly, the sound escaping his throat without him realizing it.

You were so engrossed in finding your favorite silk top among the myriad of clothes that you didn't notice his approach at all. Kurt was incredibly sneaky and had perfected the art of moving silently. He had learned to have a light foot during his years in the circus, where he would often sneak around in the dead of night, scavenging for scraps and bits of food. He had to be extremely careful not to wake the slumbering animals or disturb the watchful owner. The skills he honed in the circus allowed him to move like a shadow, almost undetectable.

It wasn't until he was directly behind you that you became aware of his presence. You felt his breath on your neck, startling you. His breath was hot and heavy, and you could feel it against your skin. His lips were slightly parted as if he was about to speak, but instead, he let out a deep, primal growl that sent shivers down your spine.

You turned to look up at him, his golden eyes shining dimly in the room as he grabbed hold of your hips. "Liebe..." he nearly snarled at you, his body trembled with screaming desire. He didn't want to hurt you, oh god, he didn't want to hurt you. But you looked so vulnerable right now, topless and the only protection from being completely nude was the thin layer of fabric you wore over your sex.

He knelt down slowly, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of confusion and vulnerability. "I cannot explain what is happening..." he whispered quietly, his voice barely audible. The weight of his words hung in the air, creating a tense silence between you both. After a pause, you found the courage to speak up, breaking the stillness.

"Bad thoughts?" you asked gently, trying to understand what he was going through.

"Nein...good ones. With you...but...they are more intense than they ever have been," he whispered with a shaky voice, his emotions clearly overwhelming him. You could see the struggle in his eyes, the conflict between his feelings and the inability to comprehend them fully. You could tell he was having trouble saying it, so you sat back and gave him a reassuring smile.

"Show me what you mean." Your words and smile was all he needed to continue. His hands rubbed up your bare thighs and he ripped off your panties. The sudden tearing against your skin burned slightly, however you weren't given a moment to register the burn before his lips wrapped around the area. He kissed and suckled harsh marks where your skin was irritated from the fabric ripping. You moaned softly, your hand running through his curly locks and you watched him kiss and soothe the areas whilst leaving dark hickeys around your hips where your panties would sit.

He growled and bit the area below your belly button, that delicious, plush area that he loved so much, he kneaded and nipped it with his teeth while leaving a trail of purple marks in his wake. You watched as he marked you up, more and more started appearing on your skin and you couldn't help but moan with each one he planted.

"I cannot help myself any longer...these thoughts, I feel like they are consuming me." he rasped against your bruised skin, his yellow eyes almost looked more orange now, half lidded and heavy with lust in them. "I do not want to hurt you..." he muttered, his gaze traveling down further as he looked at your exposed sex.

He pressed his nose against your folds, closing his eyes and inhaling your scent, your obvious arousal filled his senses and his eyes shot back open. Claws held your plush hips, spreading your legs.

"Kurt..." you whispered, your words losing themselves behind the surprised groan that tore through you, his tongue lapped a strip up your slit as he trailed to your clit. His lips wrapped around your bud and he sucked hard on it. "Oh, god..." your voice wavered as your hands naturally went to his hair.

Your hands felt his curls, those dark locks that you adored, you curled your fingers around them and felt his silky hair when you felt his horns. You couldn't help but gently wrap your fingers around the horns and feel them a little more. You hadn't actually touched them much before, he didn't want you to. But now he didn't seem to care, too busy devouring your core and making your legs tremble.

Your hands gripped his horns, and his eyes widened. He clawed your hips, lifting you off the ground and diving further into your cunt, his tongue pushing inside as he ate you out. His tongue moved so expertly, dipping inside your wet hole and dragging your hot arousal up and over that pretty clit of yours.

His vigorous laps and suckles increased as you drug his head closer by his horns, panting and mewling like a poor bitch in heat. His claws held you tightly, growling against your slick sex as he pulled you away from the wall and threw you down on the bed.

Kurt crawled over you, looking more wild than you had ever seen. He drooled as he forced your legs open, his claws gently digging into the plush flesh of your thighs, and he dove back down, completely encompassed in your cunt and entranced by it. Your hands went to his horns again, groaning as he soaked your pussy with his saliva and eager tongue lashing.

You could barely hold back the cry as your orgasm hit you. It was intense, and your back arched off the bed, your hands gripped his horns in a vice and you tugged him even closer if that were possible. "Kurt!! Aah!" You stuttered out some rambling words about your climax, unable to get out a solid sentence. He could tell you came, your cunt soaked the sheets and his tongue, such the eager mutant he was lapped all of your up as you creamed for him.

He pulled back, strings of your cum and his saliva keeping him attached to you before breaking off. His goatee completely soaked, and his eyes dark with desire. "Worn out already, schatz?" Kurt's voice was almost deeper than normal, making your spine stiffen. "I'm not done with you...I...need...more." he grunted, his eyes closing briefly like he were at conflict with himself.

You sat up slightly, noticing this change in his demeanor. "Hey...I-I'm okay, just intense, is all..." you reassured him quietly, trying to offer some comfort and support. "I'm good...do you need to let it out?" you asked, your voice gentle and encouraging.

He nodded vigorously, clearly agreeing with you, but it was evident that he was still holding back his emotions. There was a tension in his expression, a struggle to contain whatever he was feeling inside. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the way his body was tense despite his nodding. It was clear that he needed to release whatever was weighing on him, but something was stopping him from doing so.

He was deeply scared of hurting you, a fear that gnawed at him constantly. He hadn't been so... forward... like this before, and the unfamiliarity of the situation only added to his anxiety. But he couldn't help it. Something primal and intense inside him screamed, clawing at his very skin, urging him to pounce on you.

This internal battle was relentless, and he found himself struggling more each day to keep it at bay, and you had noticed. Despite his best efforts to contain himself, the urge grew stronger and more overpowering with every passing moment. He looked down at you, how your breasts rose and fell with each breath, your pussy ingrained in his nose, that beautiful scent of your arousal...

He couldn't do it anymore.

Kurt crawled over you, his hand wrapped around your ankle and yanked you closer, his now unclothed cock hitting your pussy and he rubbed himself eagerly against you, slickening his shaft so the penetration would be easier on the both of you. However, his foreplay didn't last long, his body too eager and impatient now.

His hips jut forward, his cock sinking inside you in one swift thrust. You cried out in surprise, but he didn't give you a moment of reprieve before he began to thrust hard and fast.

He curled over you, his arms holding your hips up as his cock dove in and out of your cunt, his tail tightened around your body, expertly wrapping around those pretty breasts he loved. "Mine..." he growled deeply, his voice resonating with a possessive intensity. The word was almost lost within the animalistic snarl that erupted from his throat, a primal sound that echoed through the room.

You couldn't do anything but whine and let out mindless babbling as he fucked you into the mattress. You could barely think, the way he was fucking you drove you crazy and you could do nothing but watch him pound into you. He had never been this intense before, and you weren't complaining, of course. His new passion and possessiveness awakened something deep inside you, bringing a desperate mix of arousal and pure need.

"I-I'm going to...cum again..." you managed through your moans, his cock driving against your cervix, most definitely bruised by now, his precum coating it in a soothing balm. It was making you feel more eager for his cum, more addicted to how good he made you feel. You began to want his cock in you constantly, like his precum was some sort of aphrodisiac to your body's own primal instincts.

"Do it, liebling...I want you all over me...let me feel your pleasure." He snarled into your ear, his thrusts quickened as his mischevious tail spade slithered down and rubbed your swollen bud. You watched as he threw your legs over his shoulders and moved over you more, driving down into you over and over until your body felt like it exploded.

You screamed in pure ecstasy, your swollen sex clung to him and practically milked his cock as you creamed all over his dick. He bared his fangs and sunk them into you neck as he shot his load into you, his hips snapping forward once more and driving himself as far as he could possibly go. His cock's spongy head pressed a kiss to your cervix and shot directly into your womb.

Kurt held you tight for several minutes, the both of you a panting, sweaty mess. When he finally let go of you, he pulled out of your warm cunt, hissing slightly at the cruel harshness of the bedroom air. It didn't compare to your comforting, velvet walls. He grumbled in disappointment, still foggy with those desires and not completely himself just yet. You could see it in his eyes, the confusion as he wasn't all there.

You sighed, feeling his cum begin to pool out onto the bed and you whined, you always tried to prevent that. Your hand reached up, scratching his scalp before you gripped one of his horns, tugging him down. "Baby...look what you did...I'm a mess." Your voice whined gently, "See?"

You spread your cunt, letting him see how his cum was absolutely everywhere between your legs. His dark eyes completely focused on your core as he let out deep, yet sharp breaths. Your hand, still holding one of his horns, guided his head down to your pussy. "Clean me up...won't you? It's only fair..."

Kurt's eyes glanced up before he bit your inner thigh, licking up your skin before he dove right back into you, his tongue cleaning all of himself from you...and some. But this only started the cycle all over again...and soon he was on top of you. Even still...there was nothing to complain about.

When his little rut was over, he curled around you, your body a trembling mess and you were full of so many loads of his cum you forgot to count. At one point he didn't even stop thrusting, he just kept going until he physically couldn't anymore. He laid with his body gently wrapped around yours, holding you close with a tenderness that contrasted his previous fucking. His face was buried in your hair, inhaling your sweet scent that filled his senses with pure bliss.

In that moment, he was completely content. The loud, uncomfortable scratching at his soul, which had been a new torment to him since his horns appeared, was now gone. It had been quieted down and soothed by the mere presence of you, your warmth, and the tranquility you brought to his life.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover Images: Sins of Sinister: Dominion 001 (2023); Immortal X-Men #9 (2023); Legion of X #7 (2023)

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#kurt wagner #nightcrawler #kurt wagner x reader #nightcrawler x reader #kurt wagner smut #nightcrawler smut #x men #x men 97 #xmen #🎠my works

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fhrlclln · 2 months

Note

I’ve been living for the Qimir fanfics. Can you write one where reader and him were lovers in the Jedi together, he thought she died, but actually the Jedi wiped her memory. When he bumps into her again he’s FURIOUS but also just happy that she’s alive and tries to get her memory back. Lots of angst but with a happy ending?👀

and here you stand | qimir

SUMMARY -> a man in your dreams feels like a distant memory you cannot seem to touch upon but when a particular meeting with a man in the streets of olega might be the answer to everything.

qimir x fem! reader

masterlist

GENRE -> angst & fluff

WC -> 2.85k

a/n: aNONz i hope this fic is what you requested for!!! i tried my best with the angst 😩🤌

likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

the dream always started out softly...

a glimpse of a man with short black hair, dawning a padawan braid, smiling and laughing with you in the gardens of the jedi temple in coruscant. he’d always kissed you and for a moment in the dream, you could feel his hands gently caress your cheek and see the loving gaze of his eyes on you. but the dream was always somewhat blurry... you can't remember the young man's face but his laughter, his love you feel is everything to you. it was comforting, it felt like home but the moment his laughter ends, the dream did as well.

and you wake up with a longing feeling stuck in your chest.

you'd try to remember your times as a former jedi, a former padawan in your time in coruscant. hoping you could somehow remember the man in your dreams, for it felt it was a distant memory than a dream but it always ended up with no avail. it was painful enough that you missed being back in coruscant and to reoccur those memories again in hopes of remembering who the man in your dreams makes it even more painful.

that's until you had just given up at some point on remembering him.

you now reside in a humble planet called olega. the city was large enough for you to explore it in your first days of living there. you opened up a merchant stall, selling the local fruits and vegetables for consumption. leaving the order was a tough decision the council had made upon you, you were a gifted student, gifted with the force. it was strong within you but alas, you failed, you could not somehow learn to control your own self- your own emotions. you can't remember why back then and it haunts you to this day of your failure as a jedi.

but that didn't matter now.

your quiet life of being a merchant had its perks. you were not bound by an order anymore. there were no more responsibilities and expectations placed upon you. you didn't need to train every single day- but sometimes you missed your training lessons. you did miss your former master and padawans, for they were the second family to you. even if it was told that at that time, familial or romantic feelings were forbidden, you still saw them like that.

granted, it was hard to fall back into the normal routine of an everyday civilian. you had been with the order since you were a child. you still would close off your emotions from time to time with the people you grew to know with in olega, but you got the hang of it eventually in the years of living here. but sometimes you wished to go back to coruscant, hoping if you'd visit the gardens and the great tree, you might remember the man in your dreams.

but here you are, standing behind your stall as you packaged the fresh fruits for a customer. you handed to them with a smile on your face and humbly accepted their credits. you sigh, sitting on your stool as you counted your savings to see if it would cover the rent you have to pay for this month. it was enough, your stall was popular in demand because of how fresh your picks was and you were grateful for that. you stand up again, noticing that you had to close now, seeing that almost all your merchandise was sold.

"closing off early again?" the cheery voice of your fellow merchant quips. you laugh, shrugging as you started packing away.

"i am!" you chuckled, checking if everything is in place before you could leave. you adjusted your satchel as you put on your hood, bidding your fellow merchants a kind goodbye as you went off.

a hot meal would be nice, you think to yourself, before you'd head home. walking through a crowd, you squeeze yourself in as you excused yourself to get by. the heart of the plaza certainly was always full of people at this time. for a moment, a watchful feeling washed over your senses as you look up ahead.

your eyes meet with a man’s. his black hair is slightly disheveled and greasy and the way his eyes were set upon you made you confused for a moment how hard his stare was. you look away, getting out of the crowd, an uneasy feeling settling in your chest as you walk away quickly.

qimir stands still in the middle of the plaza, his heart is thumping loudly against his ribcage. it couldn't be you. he doesn't know if the glimpse of you in the crowd was a mere apparition of the force but the way you looked at him had him thinking otherwise. you disappear from the crowd and he is hot on his feet to catch up to you.

he watches you go into an alley way, he follows in-suit, thinking that you’re trying to escape him. his nostrils flare, his agenda for today to go to the local apothecary is out of his plans as he follows you.

he watched you die.

he was sure of it, that memory of you of pushing him into his own ship whilst you stand guard to help him buy him some time to get out of coruscant never left his mind. it haunted him until he lives and breaths and it enraged him that you foolishly given your life for him to flee before his own former master would have killed him.

you were supposed to be together, right?

he thinks bitterly as he squeezes in the alley way. a lot of questions pop in his mind, were you still with the jedi after all you and him have suffered through because of them? that you willingly stayed? that you faked your own death just to leave him? those thoughts made him feel betrayed. you were his light when he was in the darkness. you were the one that understood him despite your refusal to let yourself be seduced by the dark path. he understood you as well yet he hoped that you would see truth that what the jedi do is all a lie.

he quickens his steps and your figure is starting to inch closer to him. he immediately reaches out to grab your arm and push you towards the wall making you gasp as you struggled in his tight death grip as he cages you with his whole body before you could defend yourself.

“let go!” you yelled at him as he ignored your angry yelps as you tried to get out of his grip. he merely stares down at you as you looked up at him. he observes, waiting if an emotion of guilt would cross your face… but there was none? only confusion and annoyance were plastered across your face. and he somehow indulges in your close distance, the feeling of you in front him again has him weak. here you are, warm and smelling the same after years since he had fallen into a rabbit hole of revenge and hatred for the jedi that he thought they killed you.

“i said-“ you weakly tried to pry him off you. your heart was beating so loudly, fearing what this unknown man would do to you. you wished for a moment that the force could help you. he was much stronger, you could tell, even if he looked like a twig underneath his robes. “-let go!”

“you… you’re supposed to be dead.” he breaks his silence. your brows raised with confusion. dead? you wonder if this man was crazy for thinking of you like that. not once did you remember angering any person here for this kind of response.

“i’m standing right here, buddy.” you roll your eyes as he lessens his grip on your arm. and here you do stand, qimir thinks. you relax for a bit as the hard stare he gives you softens slightly. something in him tells him that you don’t even recognize him. and that makes him worried.

“do you know me?” he tests his theory, hoping it was not true. you know him, you would never forget about him.

you two were your other halves of each other’s body, soul and mind, never to be separated even if the cosmos were in between you two. you would always find each other in the end. even in death, you were his other soul, the half of his battered and broken heart. he knows you vow the same as he heard those vows underneath the great tree in the gardens of the jedi temple in coruscant.

i will never forget you. as you had said to him when his lips last touch yours before you threw him into his ship, leaving him in agony seeing you turn on your saber before his master slashes you with her saber.

i love you, qimir.

he blinks wetly. there’s a hollow feeling inside his chest when he sees that you don’t genuinely recognize him the slightest bit.

“…no? no, i don’t know you. look, sir, if you have any problem with me or you want money, i have some credits-“

“what i want is for you to tell me the truth.” he cuts you off, wondering if you were lying as he tries to peer into your mind. he feels furious, furious that you are acting like this but the desperation… the desperation of trying to see you at least recognize him is taking over. you feel the hum of the force, so familiar even if it had been years since you trained. but it wasn’t just that, his force felt familiar.

“…you wield the force.” you say as your eyes widened when you feel him try to pry in your mind. an instinct in you erupts as you somehow managed to surprise him by grabbing him by his arm and the collar of his robe then pushed him into the wall that you were pressed against, making the roles reverse. qimir lets you do that as he looks down at you, a sadness in his eyes as he realizes that you don’t remember him.

what happened to you?

“you don’t remember me…” he whispers, defeated. he grips your wrist gently as a congested look of hurt is across his face.

“and you know me?” you ask, somehow feeling like he knows you more intimately than you had expected. confusion is breaking your calm mind, it frightens you that somehow you feel like what he’s saying is so close to the truth but you can’t discern it clearly. you know nothing of him. you let him go and qimir almost wobbled in his knees when your touch is gone.

he nods and your chest suddenly hurts. you back away, frightened and confused, it was overwhelming that you feel for him but don’t remember him. before qimir could utter anything else, you walk away. he watches you go, sensing that something was wrong. something had been wiped away in your mind with the memories of him and he feels lost. the one person that had stayed with him throughout his grievances and frustrations, the one good person he thought dead and the one woman he loved doesn’t remember him.

he’ll have to talk to you again when he wills himself.

・゜゜・．

it had been days since you last saw that strange man and your dreams have been getting even more vivid.

it was scaring you.

remembering the look in his eyes, you saw that he did in fact know you. but you don’t know him. sometimes when you wake up now after dreaming of that young man in your dreams, it felt like something in you was lost. and that your mind was actively trying to remember, trying to hold on what was missing but it always fails. and it leaves you feeling so lost and confused.

you sit by your bed now. you haven’t started your day like the usual. you felt sick, nauseous and incredibly exhausted of trying to will yourself to remember that strange man. his touch felt familiar when you remember it, his voice was somehow a comfort and his gaze… you know you would be in trance with those dark eyes of his that spoke of tenderness.

your eyes felt heavy as the sun peaks through the blinds of your windows. you sigh, weakly trying to get up. you felt you were about to fall back onto your bed again until a knock on your door surprises you. you freeze, the knocks then grew more louder and you sighed, thinking it was your landlord as you get up, wrapping your cloak around you.

you push the red button on the control panel as the sound of your door swiftly opening doesn’t ready you for him to be standing by your doorstep. you freeze, seeing that he’s dressed in another way-too-huge robes on him. he looks at you for a moment, taking in your face of confusion.

“i just want to talk.” he pleads and you stay frozen in your spot for a moment, wondering if you want to talk with him. but deep inside, your heart is telling you yes as it beats loudly.

“okay.” you say quietly as you let him in. qimir relaxes as you close the door once he crosses the threshold and he stands inside your small apartment.

“how long have you been living here?” he asks, looking around the place. “in olega… i mean.”

“seven… eight years, i think?” you answer as best as you can. “i stayed in coruscant for a couple of months before moving here.”

“why?” he asks further, confused.

“i left the jedi… i used to be a jedi.” you shrug. “it was the council’s decision why i couldn’t continue my training.”

“because?”

“…i- because they said i didn’t control my self, my emotions.” you sighed, not liking that you were telling this stranger of your failure. a stranger that you somehow know. you remind yourself.

“and you’re sure the council had told you that was their true reasons for letting you go?” he faces you, understanding bit by bit what happened to you. "they lied."

“why do you ask me? are you a jedi or was- as well?” you ask him now.

“i was.” he nods bitterly.

you blink. “then how do you know me?”

“we were…” he starts, finding his words to try and let this information on you easily. your memories were wiped as far as he could tell. he thinks that vernestra orchestrated to do this to you when they had disarmed you at some point after he had escaped. for it was to conceal those outside the jedi order of his existence and that it may put them in a political disaster. he scoffs at that in his mind. he wills himself not to go to the local jedi temple and slaughter master torbin himself for this, out of spite he’ll kill them all in there.

“you and i, we shared a bond.” he softly says as he nears you and you let him. “a bond that the order told us that it was forbidden.”

you blink, understanding what he meant. did the jedi lied to you? you think, feeling betrayed by the order that you had respected could do this to you. his soft gaze felt familiar and you reel in to his gentle voice. qimir’s chest filled with hope seeing you slowly start to understand him even though you still don’t know him.

“i am yours.” he takes your hand to his, placing it above his chest. “and you are mine.”

“and together…” those words leave your lips without even you registering it for a moment as he presses his forehead against yours. you shudder, your eyes welling up with tears, feeling overwhelmed as this felt like the scene in your dreams. this man was the young man in your dreams. you realized, why you somehow feel like you know him.

vows in the gardens, whispering it underneath the great tree. two padawans’ hearts beating with one another and the sweet song of love fills their chests as they become one. bound to eternity forever.

“we are bound to each other forever.” he finishes as he wipes the tears streaming down your face.

“i want to remember you…” you sobbed, your own chest hurting for not remembering him. this man that you had just met days ago but felt like you’ve known him forever. qimir smiles sadly as he pulls you into his arms. you cried on his shoulder, loving the way his arms felt around you.

you don’t even know his name and it breaks your heart again.

“i’ll help you remember. we found each other again.” he vows and promises he’ll make you remember. his own eyes wetting with his tears as he nuzzles his face on your soft hair and he whispers. “i promise.”

but all that matters now is that you are with him at last.

#qimir x reader #qimir #the stranger x reader #the stranger #manny jacinto #the acolyte #fnhrlcllnwrites #eri’s request box 📦 ｡･:*˚:✧｡

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suntoru · 7 months

Text

❝ I'VE LOVED YOU BEFORE, I'M SURE OF IT!❞

— SYNOPSIS: eons ago, the king of curses lost his lover. you're gone, you have been for years, so why is it that you're standing right before him?

— WARNINGS: reincarnation, death of servant, your death mentioned, blood, swearing, angst, fluff, ooc sukuna?, he's downbad, 3k words

— AUTHOR’S NOTE: HELP MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR SUKUNA IF U LIKE IT PLS LMK AND REBLOG!!

a face so familiar that in a sea of people, he'd recognize it instantly. he could paint a perfect picture from memory alone; how could he ever forget you? the only person he's ever grown accustomed to loving with every fiber of his being. the only person who's ever made the very king of curses feel weak. so then, why... why are you here once more?

impossible. it couldn't, shouldn't be you. he watched you slip away, felt your last breath against his skin, cradled you in his arms as your life ebbed away, the haunting reminder of the day he lost you. so why, against all reason, are you standing before him?

he can't deny the reality that it's truly you standing there, amidst the blossoms, with those delicate features that outshine even the brightest stars in the sky. the very essence of innocence radiates from your being, reflected in the purity of your gaze as you remain unaware of his presence, lost in the simple joy of picking dainty flowers from his meticulously tended garden. it's a scene so achingly familiar, yet impossibly surreal, as if plucked from a distant memory and brought vividly to life before his eyes.

his naive little lamb, blissfully unaware of the danger that lurks just beyond the edges of his meticulously guarded property. anyone could sneak up on you at this very moment, and you'd remain oblivious, lost in the gentle warmth of the sunlight as you hum a soft melody to yourself. do you not realize the trespass you commit with every step, the audacity of encroaching upon his domain?

for if you were anyone else, the ground beneath your feet would surely be stained crimson, a stark reminder of the consequences of such brazen intrusion. he scrutinizes your every movement, his gaze lingering on each delicate gesture as if committing them to memory. it's the first time in what feels like an eternity that he's experienced a semblance of peace.

sukuna, the embodiment of strength and power, finds himself perplexed by the profound comfort your presence brings him. he detests his own vulnerability, despises the notion of being beholden to anyone or anything. and yet, in the quiet moments spent observing you, he can't help but entertain the fleeting desire to hold you once more like the days he once treasured with you.

the fleeting moment of vulnerability dissipates in an instant as one of his ignorant servants, a mere fool in sukuna's eyes, rudely intrudes upon his garden sanctuary. with careless disregard, they trample over the delicate cecilias, the very flowers you were delicately picking.

"m-my lord, my humblest apologies," they stammer, their voice trembling with fear. "i don't know how an intruder got in, but i promise to dispose-" before they can finish their sentence, their head is swiftly separated from their body, the soft thud of impact echoing in the garden as it rolls to the ground. red oozes out, staining the grass crimson red as he stares at the body indifferently. tch. incompetence is met with swift and merciless retribution. how weak, how utterly weak. not only had that feeble intruder disrupted his tranquility, but they had also brought undue attention to his secluded sanctuary.

his gaze sharply turns towards you, contemplating whether you had noticed the disturbance, only to find your eyes innocently peering back at him. a surge of something unfamiliar courses through him as he meets your gaze. there you stand, so delicate and unassuming, clutching those flowers, studying him with a curiosity that unsettles and intrigues him in equal measure.

would you scream? run for the hills? yet, there's an underlying fearlessness about you, a quality he's always admired. part of him yearns for the recognition in your eyes, the acknowledgment of his presence, a desire for you to step closer, to nestle into his embrace and play with his hair, as if it were an annoyance he secretly craved, so long as it was from you.

"…would you like a flower?" you beam up at him, your smile radiant enough to rival the sun itself. holding it out to him, your eyes sparkle with genuine delight as you offer the delicate blossom. "it matches your hair. pretty." for a moment, he hesitates, towering over you with his imposing figure. yet, you show no fear, not of his unusual features nor his intimidating presence, not in this life and not in your past one either. with tentative movements, his rough, calloused hands brush against yours, accepting your gift.

he observes with a quiet fascination as your smile widens even further, a sight that warms a part of him he thought long dormant. almost instinctively, he restrains the urge to brush back a stray strand of your hair, watching instead as you take care of it yourself, a soft frown forming on your face as it catches in your lip gloss.

"it's funny," you begin, a playful lilt to your voice as you gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "everything here seems so familiar. tell me, have we ever met before? i feel like i know you from somewhere," you muse, studying his features with a curious intensity. there's a certainty in your tone, a sense of recognition that stirs something deep within him.

"no. that's stupid," he gruffly replies, brushing off your inquiry with a dismissive tone, though he can't ignore the flicker of amusement in your eyes. "ah, you're right. that would be impossible, wouldn't it? perhaps it was just déjà vu," you concede, your smile widening ever so slightly, there's a sincerity in your gaze that leaves him unsettled. he hates the way his heart stirs each time you do that, that... that thing with your face, he's seen it a thousand times before, that stupid smug smile. it's been a millennium since he's last seen it, and he finds himself silently admitting that he's missed it more than he cares to admit.

the one who shattered his harem, the one he believed he had lost forever. over the years of your absence, he had convinced himself that it was foolish to love a mortal. loving you was a mistake, he told himself. there was no void in his heart because of you; it was there to satiate his hunger for bloodlust.

yet, the mere sight of you right now, skin kissed by the sunlight shattered those self-imposed barriers, your voice carrying on about the flowers you held. peonies, daisies, lilies, roses—all growing in a small, vibrant garden. they were your favorites, adorning the white fence so beautifully. although he'd rather be caught dead then admit it out loud, it was dedicated to you, a silent tribute that reminded him of your presence.

in moments of turmoil, he found solace here, secretly seeking refuge amidst the blossoms, gazing up at the stars as if searching for your familiar constellations. what were they again? he had almost forgotten, and somehow, that notion was more unsettling than any sorcerer he had ever faced.

"oh, i almost forgot to ask, what was your name?" you giggle, looking up at him with an air of innocence. do you really talk to random strangers like that? you still are such an airhead. it seems you have no survival skills, but perhaps that's why he's always been so protective of you. "i am the king of curses, sukuna," he states, glaring down at you. it irks him, slightly, that even his name has been wiped from your memory. you really, don't remember, do you?

"sukuna... i'm calling you 'kuna from now on, 'kay?" you beam, and he lets out a weary sigh. how unoriginal. you used to call him that too, but anything else sounds quite strange coming from your lips.

"why are you here?" he grumbles, the question weighing heavy on his mind, not just in this moment, but echoing through the centuries. he wants to know why you've returned, why you've chosen now to reappear in his life after so many years have passed by. are you taunting his only weakness? how infuriating. you remember his old nickname, the flowers you once adorned his head with, but not him. is this some sort of game to you?

"i don't know," you answer simply, adjusting the crinkles in your dress. as the sun begins its slow descent, casting a warm, golden hue over the valley, you find yourself standing there, amidst the beauty of the landscape. "i just happened to stumble upon here," you murmur softly, your gaze fixed on the horizon, where the sky meets the earth in a breathtaking display of colors. the grass sways gently in the breeze, whispering secrets of days gone by, while memories of laughter and joy linger in the air like a bittersweet melody. his nose crinkles. what do you mean you don't know?

"what are you doing?" he hears your voice, sweet and soft like a distant echo from the past, a time when things were simpler, when you were by his side, filling his days with light and laughter. it's been hard without you, he realizes, a pang of longing tugging at his heart as he watches you standing there, bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun.

he wants to reach out to you, to tell you how much he's missed you, how much he's longed for your presence all these years. but instead, he remains silent, a silent observer of the moment, as the memories of days gone by wash over him like gentle waves, leaving behind an ache in his heart.

"you're trespassing," he grumbles, his voice carrying a weight that extends far beyond the boundaries of his garden. it's a warning, a silent one for you to stay away, to spare him the agony of reliving the memories that threaten to consume him. but even as he speaks the words, he knows deep down that it's not just his garden you're trespassing into— it's his heart, too.

sukuna does not wish to love you, loving you hurts, it makes him what he hates the most, it makes him weak. once, long ago, he was foolish to love you. he never uttered those words aloud, but the way his gaze softened in your presence spoke volumes. you were the only one who managed to carve a place for yourself in his heart, a place he thought was forever closed off to the world.

he doesn't want to care about you. to him, you should be nothing more than a passing nuisance, easily disposed of if it serves his purpose. yet, as he gazes upon your innocent face, memories long buried begin to resurface, tugging at the frayed edges of his carefully constructed facade.

sukuna despises what you evoke within him, a vulnerability he thought he'd long since buried beneath layers of ruthlessness. as the sun caresses your features with its gentle warmth, he can't help but feel a pang of longing deep within his chest. it's a sensation he's tried to suppress, to bury beneath the weight of his power and dominance. after all, he's the feared king of curses, not some lovesick fool. but even he can't deny the allure of your presence, the way you effortlessly weave your way into the recesses of his darkened heart.

in the depths of his being, sukuna knows he shouldn't miss you. he shouldn't yearn for the days when your laughter echoed through the corridors of his mind. yet, despite his best efforts to cast you aside, a part of him remains tethered to you, unable to sever the invisible threads that bind him to your memory.

your love, once radiant as the sun, pierced through the darkness shrouding his heart, illuminating corners he never knew existed. it was pure, untainted, a beacon of hope in his desolate existence. even in his darkest moments, he couldn't bear to extinguish your light, for fear of losing himself entirely. but then, like a flickering flame snuffed out by a sudden gust of wind, you were gone.

the memory of holding you close as you slipped away, your warmth fading into cold nothingness, still haunts him to this day. yet amidst the pain, there was a promise— a whispered vow that one day, you'd find each other again. and somehow, against all odds, you did. but fate had robbed you of the memories that once bound you together.

he watches you now, your smile as bright as ever, oblivious to the love you once shared. it's a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that you'll never remember the depth of your connection, the intensity of the love that once burned between you. forgotten memories of your presence flood his mind, stirring emotions he thought long buried.

he should be able to snuff out your existence without a second thought, should revel in the sight of your blood staining the verdant valley, your cries piercing the tranquil air. but as you stand before him, oblivious to the darkness lurking within him, he finds himself paralyzed by indecision.

his soul screams at him to act, to rid himself of this weakness once and for all. but his heart, that traitorous organ, refuses to comply. how can you, with your pure heart and untainted spirit, still evoke such conflicting emotions within him?

sukuna prides himself on his selfishness, on his willingness to betray and manipulate to achieve his desires. and yet, in your presence, he finds himself questioning whether his desire to hold you close once more is too selfish, whether his darkness would tarnish your purity.

and a part of him wonders if you'd fall in love with him again, wonders how you did the first time. would your hands feel the same, tracing the contours of his face with that delicate touch? would your lips still taste as sweet, brushing against his with that familiar tenderness?

"'kuna?" you murmur softly, looking up at him to see if he's paying attention. and for a fleeting moment, he's transported back to a memory he holds dear, etched into the deepest recesses of his heart.

"'kuna?" you had called out one day, perched elegantly on his lap, nestled against him as if you belonged there. his hand, protective yet tender, rested on the small of your back, ensuring you remained secure in his embrace. your legs were tucked into his, absentmindedly toying with some strands of his hair. "hm?" he responded, his gaze half-heartedly softening as he met your doe-like eyes, a hint of amusement dancing within their depths.

"do you think in every universe, we're together?" you inquire, your voice tinged with a hopeful innocence that tugs at his heartstrings. he let out a scoff, a familiar gesture masking the warmth that blooms within him, his fingers instinctively threading through your hair as you playfully swat them away. you're so naive and innocent, believing in such stupid things.

"that's absurd," he retorted, though the corner of his lips quirked upward in a ghost of a smile, unable to deny the affection that lingers between you. love, he once believed, was a fleeting illusion, a mirage in the desert of existence. he scoffed at the notion of eternal love, dismissing it as a fanciful delusion born of naive optimism. how could love endure when humanity was plagued by sin, disloyalty, and obstinance? it seemed absurd to place faith in something so fragile, so easily shattered by the harsh realities of life.

"hey..." you pouted, your bottom lip jutting out in a playful display of mock indignation, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "well, i believe we are," you declare, a stubborn determination coloring your words as you stick out your tongue in defiance.

"such a meanie," you'd muttered under your breath, though your protest is laced with affection as he pulled you closer, enveloping you in the warmth of his embrace. and he's snapped out of his thoughts once more when he hears your voice cut through his memories.

"ah, i'm sorry," the present you sheepishly mumbles, catching yourself mid-ramble and rubbing the back of your head with an embarrassed smile. "i'm boring you, aren't i? it's getting late; i should be going."

with a resigned sigh, you glance up at sukuna, feeling a flush of embarrassment color your cheeks. you hadn't meant to prattle on to a stranger, especially one who felt so oddly familiar and comforting, like a warm, fluffy blanket on a chilly evening. as you start to move away, ready to bid your unexpected companion farewell, one of sukuna's arms shoots out, gripping your wrist firmly and halting your departure.

despite everything, you're still here, standing before him, a familiar presence that refuses to fade into oblivion, and he finds himself unwilling to sever the crimson thread of fate that you once fervently believed bound you together. he's unsettled of the idea of allowing himself to love you again, yet, at this moment, his greatest fear is not in loving you, but rather in the prospect of forgetting you altogether.

confusion flickers across your features as you look up at him, but he refuses to meet your gaze, his expression unreadable. the soft hues of the pink sunset cast a gentle glow over you both, and in that moment, you could swear you see a faint flush tingeing sukuna's cheeks.

he still considers you foolish for believing in an everlasting love. and yet, as he looks into your eyes, he doesn't believe an eternity with you would be too bad. in fact, he wouldn't mind it at all. he mutters gruffly, though his voice betrays a hint of annoyance, and yet, inexplicably, your heart leaps at the invitation.

"speak."

and with that stupidly charming grin on your face, you do.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #ryomen x reader

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midastouch013 · 4 months

Text

Scars and All

Based on this request

Summary: You and Natasha have been dating for almost a year, and so what happens when you finally find out why things never get steamy

Warnings: Insecurity, Scars, Flashbacks of Redroom. Super soft Nat.

---

You and Natasha had been dating for close to a year now, having moved in a month ago to the floor Tony had given the both of you happy to see his, and you quote ' favourite spider' so in love, and though your relationship was incredible in so many ways, there was one aspect that sometimes caused a bit of frustration. Every time things got a little bit steamy, Natasha would freeze up. And every time it left you confused, more than before with every occurrence.

It happened again tonight. You were tangled up in each other, lips locked in a passionate kiss, hands exploring, when Natasha suddenly pulled back, her breath uneven.

"Stop," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

You froze, your heart pounding. You were frustrated, sure, but you respected Natasha enough to honor her wishes. With a heavy sigh, you pulled away, trying to hide your disappointment.

"Are you okay?" you asked softly, concern evident in your voice.

She nodded, avoiding your gaze. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… not feeling it right now."

You couldn't help but feel disappointed, but you didn't want to show it. Instead, you forced a small smile and said, "Okay. I'm just gonna… take a cold shower then."

Without waiting for a response, you got up and made your way to the bathroom, leaving Natasha alone on the bed.

The cold water did little to wash away your disappointment. You couldn't shake the feeling of frustration, unable to understand why Natasha kept pulling away.

After what felt like an eternity under the icy spray, you finally turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. As you dried off and got dressed, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

When you emerged from the bathroom, you found Natasha lost in her own world, her eyes unfocused as she begged someone she had only told you about once, Madame B, not to hit her.

Your heart broke at the sight. You knew Natasha was reliving a moment from her past, a nightmare from her time in the Red Room. Without a second thought, you crossed the room and enveloped her in a tight hug, hoping to ground her in the present, having it done many times previously.

"Nat, it's me," you whispered, your voice soft and soothing. "You're safe now. You're with me."

Slowly, Natasha's breathing began to steady, and the tension in her body started to ease. She clung to you, burying her face in the crook of your neck as she struggled to break free from the memories that haunted her.

You held her close, whispering words of comfort and reassurance until she finally began to relax in your arms.

After Natasha falls asleep in your arms, you gently tuck her under the covers, making sure she's comfortable. With a lingering glance, you quietly slip out of the room, closing the door softly behind you.

You make your way downstairs and pull out your phone, dialing Yelena's number. She picks up after a couple of rings.

"Hey," she says, her voice filled with concern. "Is everything okay?"

You hesitate for a moment, not sure how to explain what just happened with Natasha.

"Not really," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "Nat had a flashback… to the Red Room, I think."

There's a pause on the other end of the line before Yelena speaks again. "Is she okay now?"

"Yeah, she's sleeping," you reply. "But… I don't know what to do, Yelena. Every time things start to get… intimate, she freezes up. I can't shake the feeling that it's connected somehow."

There's a thoughtful silence before Yelena speaks again. "Does my sestra shower with the door closed?"

You frown, confused by the seemingly random question. "Uh, yeah, she does. Why?"

Yelena hums thoughtfully. "And does she ever… mention anything about about her post-missions "

Your heart skips a beat as the pieces start to click into place. "No, she doesn't even let me see her till she's in pajamas. Why?"

Yelena lets out a heavy sigh. "Look, I think… Y/n, you're pretty smart, so I'm surprised I have to be telling you this, but my sister is insecure about something. And maybe, just maybe, that's why she keeps pulling away."

"But what insecurity?" you question," She-"

Before you can say anything else, Yelena interrupts you. "Sorry, I have to go. Kate's calling me. Just… be there for her, okay? She needs you."

After Yelena hangs up, more incidents with Natasha flash through your mind. Little moments that, when looked at together, begin to form a pattern. And suddenly, it hits you like a ton of bricks. Natasha's insecurity is about her scars.

Just as you're connecting the dots, Natasha comes downstairs to grab something to eat. Wordlessly, you grab her by the hips and lift her up.

"Hey, what are you doing?" she squeals, trying to wriggle out of your grasp.

Ignoring her protests, you carry her back upstairs to your room. Once there, you gently set her down on the edge of the bed, ignoring her playful protests.

"Okay, seriously, what's going on?" she asks, confusion evident in her voice.

You don't answer right away. Instead, you kneel down on the floor in front of her, taking her hands in yours.

"Tasha, I love you," you begin, your voice steady. "And I want you to know that you can talk to me about anything. I know… I know that something happened tonight, something that triggered a flashback. And I think… I think I know what it is."

Natasha's eyes widen in surprise, and for a moment, she looks like she might bolt. But then she takes a deep breath and meets your gaze.

"You do?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

You nod, squeezing her hands gently while taking a deep breath, trying to find the right words to say. "Natasha, do you not like your scars?" you ask gently.

Natasha's defenses go up immediately, and she tries to deflect the situation with humor. "What, these old things?" she says, gesturing to her scars with a forced smirk. "Just battle wounds, nothing to worry about."

But you're firm in your resolve. You don't let her deflect this time. "Nat, please," you say, your voice pleading. "I need you to be honest with me."

She sighs, the forced smile slipping from her face. "Fine," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "Fine, you want the truth? I hate them, okay? I hate the way they look. I hate what they remind me of."

Your heart breaks at her words, but you keep your voice steady. "Why, Nat? Why do you hate them so much?"

And then she confesses, her words tumbling out in a rush. "Because I'm afraid, okay? I'm afraid that when you see them, you'll finally realize that you're dating a monster. A cold-blooded murderer. I'm afraid that you'll look at me and see nothing but a killer. And I love you so much, and I don't want to lose you. But I'm afraid that these scars will scare you away. That I don't look… sexy with my scars and all."

Tears fill her eyes as she speaks, and you feel your heart breaking all over again.

You feel a surge of anger and hurt at Natasha's admission. How could she think of herself like that? And how could she think that you would ever see her that way?

"You really think that?" you say, your voice coming out a bit harsher than you intended. "That I would see you like that? That I would ever think of you as a monster? God, Natasha, how could you even think that?"

Natasha flinches at your words, and for a moment, you regret the harshness of your tone. But then you take a deep breath and soften your voice.

"I'm sorry, It wasn't supposed to sound so rude, but… I get it, Nat," you continue, your voice gentle now. "I get that you're scared. And I understand why you feel that way. Even if I've not been through what you've been through, I'd like to think that I get it. But you need to know that I love you, scars and all. And I would never, ever think of you as anything less than amazing."

You feel Natasha's arms tighten around you, and you know that she's listening, really listening, to what you're saying.

"And another thing," you add, your voice firm now. "You need to stop calling yourself those hateful things. You are not a monster, Natasha. You are not a cold-blooded murderer. You are a hero, you are the role model to millions of kids out there, and you're my girlfriend. There's no way in hell could you be what you claim to be. Don't you ever forget that."

Natasha doesn't say anything in response, and for a moment, you worry that you've pushed her too far. But then she pulls back slightly, her eyes meeting yours.

"Thank you," she whispers, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for… for loving me, scars and all."

You shush her with a gentle finger to her lips. " What have I told you about that?" you ask in a tutting tone.

She chuckled breathily, a faint smile on her face " Never thank you unless I don't want dinner that night"

You look into Natasha's eyes, your heart overflowing with love and reassurance. Without saying a word, you lift her (Well yours, but anything that was yours was hers) t-shirt and leant in to press a gentle kiss to one of her scars, then another, and another, until you'd kissed each one.

Each kiss is an act of reassurance, a silent declaration of how beautiful and attractive you find her scars. And with each kiss, you feel Natasha's tension slowly melting away, replaced by a sense of peace and acceptance.

When you finally pull back, Natasha is looking at you with tear-filled eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"I love you" she whispers, her voice filled with emotion.

" I love you more"

"Willing to bet on it?"

#avengers #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha x you #anon ask #anonymous #natasha romanoff hurt/comfort #natasha x y/n #natasha marvel #yelena and natasha

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xxbirkindoll · 1 month

Text

coming back to you

pairings: ex!rafe x ex!reader

warnings: angst, fluff, jealousy

summary: rafe and y/n broke up and after 6 months, reader sees him at a party—except rafe isn’t alone.

words: 2.9k

The sunset over the Outer Banks was a spectacular sight—an explosion of orange and pink hues blending into the purple twilight. But tonight, as you watched the waves crash against the shore, the colors seemed muted, like they were missing something. Much like your life over the past six months.

Six months. It felt like both an eternity and a fleeting moment since Rafe had broken up with you. Even now, the memory of that day still stung, etched into your heart like a scar that refused to heal.

"I just need to work on myself, Y/n," he had said, his voice thick with emotion. "My temper, my… everything. You deserve better than what I can give you right now."

You had stood there, tears blurring your vision as you tried to understand what was happening. Rafe was your world, the one constant in the chaos of your life, and suddenly, he was telling you that you needed to be apart. That you, his Y/n, deserved better than him. It was a noble reason, and you knew he meant well, but it did nothing to soothe the heartbreak that followed.

Rafe was your first love, the person who made you feel alive and safe in a world that often felt too overwhelming. You had been drawn to him, not just for his good looks or his undeniable charm, but for the way he seemed to understand you in a way no one else did. He could be reckless, yes, and his temper was legendary, but beneath it all, you had seen the softer side of him, the side that cared, that loved fiercely and deeply.

You hadn’t expected to be torn away from that side of him. But he had been right, in some ways. Rafe had demons to fight—his addiction, his anger, his own insecurities. And he needed space to do that. You understood that, but it didn’t make the pain of losing him any less real.

For months, you’d been trying to move on, to rebuild your life without him. It was hard. Every corner of the Outer Banks held memories of him. From the beach where you first kissed to the docks where he’d whispered how much he loved you as the sun set. It all haunted you, a constant reminder of what you’d lost.

But tonight was different. Tonight, you were determined to take a step forward, to finally put some distance between you and the past. That’s why you agreed to go to the party with Sarah, despite your initial hesitation.

“You need this, Y/n,” Sarah had insisted earlier that day, her tone firm but gentle. “It’s been too long since you’ve done something fun. And I promise, Rafe won’t be there. He’s… been keeping to himself lately.”

You knew Sarah meant well. As Rafe’s sister, she was caught in a tricky position—being loyal to her brother while also being your best friend. But she had always been there for you, through the highs and the lows, and you trusted her.

And so, you found yourself at the Cameron family’s beach house, the music pounding in your ears and the smell of the ocean mixed with the scent of alcohol filling the air. The party was in full swing, with people dancing, laughing, and losing themselves in the carefree atmosphere.

But as much as you tried to blend in, to lose yourself in the moment, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Maybe it was the fact that you were at a place so closely tied to Rafe, or maybe it was the way your heart clenched every time you thought about him. Either way, you felt a knot of anxiety tightening in your chest.

“Hey, are you okay?” Sarah’s voice cut through your thoughts, and you turned to find her watching you with concern. She was holding two drinks, one of which she handed to you. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You forced a smile, not wanting to worry her. “I’m fine. Just a little overwhelmed, I guess.”

She nodded, her expression softening. “I get it. But try to have some fun, okay? You deserve it.”

Taking a sip of the drink, you nodded again, though you weren’t entirely sure you believed your own assurances. You scanned the crowd, trying to distract yourself by observing the people around you. Most were familiar faces, locals you’d grown up with, but one person caught your eye. A girl you didn’t recognize, with short, brown hair and a confident smile.

And then you saw him. Rafe.

He was standing by the pool, laughing at something the girl had said, his hand resting casually on her waist. Your heart stopped, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t just seeing him again that hit you like a punch to the gut—it was how different he looked. His once shaggy hair was now buzzed short, and he had put on muscle, his t-shirt clinging to his toned arms and chest. He looked good, better than you’d seen him in a long time.

He looked like he was doing well. Like he was happy.

You wanted to be happy for him, you really did. But all you could feel was the sharp sting of jealousy and hurt. He had moved on. And you were still here, stuck in the same place, unable to let go of the past.

“Who’s that?” you found yourself asking, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sarah followed your gaze and winced slightly when she saw what—or rather, who—you were looking at. “That’s Sofia,” she said carefully. “She’s new around here. I think she’s just visiting for the summer.”

“Oh.” You swallowed hard, trying to process the information. Rafe was with someone else. Of course he was. You had no right to feel this way, but you couldn’t help it.

“He seems… different,” you murmured, not sure if you were talking to Sarah or just voicing your thoughts out loud.

Sarah sighed, her expression troubled. “He’s been trying, Y/n. He really has. But it’s been hard for him, too, you know? Breaking up with you—it wasn’t easy for him.”

“I know,” you whispered, your eyes still fixed on Rafe. “I just… I didn’t expect this. I thought that if he got better, maybe…”

“Maybe he’d come back to you?” Sarah finished gently.

You nodded, feeling the tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You blinked them away, not wanting to cry here, not now.

“Y/n, I think—” Sarah started, but before she could finish, someone bumped into you from behind, causing you to spill your drink. You turned, muttering a quick apology, but when you looked back towards the pool, Rafe and Sofia were gone.

The rest of the party passed in a blur. You tried to have fun, to talk and laugh with Sarah and the others, but your heart wasn’t in it. All you could think about was Rafe. You caught glimpses of him throughout the night, but he was always with Sofia, and it hurt too much to keep watching.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. You needed air. You needed to get away.

“I’m gonna go for a walk,” you told Sarah, who looked at you with concern but didn’t try to stop you.

“Do you want me to come with you?” she offered, but you shook your head.

“No, it’s okay. I just need a minute.”

She nodded, squeezing your hand before letting you go. You made your way down to the beach, the cool night air a welcome contrast to the heat of the party. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore was soothing, and you found a spot on the sand, sitting down and hugging your knees to your chest.

You let the tears fall then, the ones you’d been holding back all night. It wasn’t fair. You had waited, hoping that Rafe would come back to you when he was ready. You had believed in him, in his ability to change. And now, seeing him with someone else, it felt like all your hope had been shattered.

The worst part was, you couldn’t even be angry at him. You knew why he had broken up with you, and you knew it was the right thing for him to do. But that didn’t make it any less painful.

You stayed there for a while, letting the tears flow until there were no more left. When you finally looked up, the party was still in full swing, but you didn’t feel like going back. You just wanted to go home, to curl up in bed and pretend that tonight had never happened.

But as you stood up to leave, you saw a figure walking towards you along the shoreline. Your heart skipped a beat when you realized who it was.

Rafe.

He stopped a few feet away from you, his hands shoved into his pockets as he looked at you with those piercing blue eyes that had always made you weak in the knees.

“Y/n,” he said softly, his voice carrying over the sound of the waves.

You swallowed hard, trying to compose yourself. “Rafe. What are you doing here?”

“I saw you leave,” he said, his gaze never leaving yours. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that. Part of you wanted to scream at him, to tell him how much he had hurt you, but another part of you just wanted to fall into his arms and forget everything else.

“I’m fine,” you said instead, though your voice wavered. “You should go back to the party. Sofia’s probably wondering where you are.”

“Sofia’s not important,” he said quickly, and the intensity in his voice made you look up at him in surprise. “She’s just someone I’ve been hanging out with, nothing more,” Rafe continued, his voice edged with urgency. “I’m not with her like that, Y/n. I’m not with anyone. I couldn’t be.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as his words sunk in, but you couldn’t let yourself believe them just yet. “Rafe, it’s been six months,” you said, your voice cracking. “You’ve had time to move on. And that’s okay. I don’t expect you to—”

“I haven’t moved on,” he interrupted, taking a step closer to you. “I haven’t moved on from you. God, Y/n, I’ve tried. I’ve tried to get over you, to pretend that I’m okay without you, but I’m not. I’m really not.”

You stared at him, unable to speak. His words were like a lifeline, something you had desperately needed to hear, but it only made things more confusing.

“Then why did you leave?” you finally whispered, the question that had haunted you for months slipping out. “Why did you break up with me if you still… if you still care?”

Rafe looked down, his jaw clenched tightly, as if he were fighting some internal battle. “I was scared,” he admitted after a long moment. “Scared that I was going to drag you down with me. I was a mess, baby. My temper, my addiction… I didn’t want you to have to deal with that. You deserved better. I needed to get better, for both our sakes.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice, but there was still a part of you that couldn’t let go of the pain he had caused. “And now?” you asked, your voice trembling. “Are you better now, Rafe?”

He looked up at you then, and the raw emotion in his eyes nearly broke you. “I’m trying,” he said softly. “I’ve been going to therapy, working out, trying to stay clean. I’m not perfect, and I’ve still got a long way to go, but I’m trying. And the whole time… all I could think about was you.”

The words hung in the air between you, thick with unspoken feelings. You wanted to believe him, wanted to run into his arms and let him hold you like he used to. But you were afraid—afraid of getting hurt again, afraid that he might leave you once more.

“I don’t know if I can do this again,” you whispered, your eyes filling with tears. “Rafe, you broke my heart. I thought you didn’t want me anymore, that I wasn’t enough.”

Rafe’s expression crumpled with guilt and regret, and he closed the distance between you, reaching out to gently cup your face in his hands. His touch was warm, familiar, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Y/n, you are everything to me,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I never stopped wanting you. I didn’t want to hurt you anymore. But I see now that I did anyway, and I hate myself for it. I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry.”

The sincerity in his voice, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world that mattered. It broke down the walls you had built around your heart. The tears you had been holding back finally spilled over, and you let out a shaky breath.

“Rafe…” you began, but the words caught in your throat. You didn’t know what to say. All the pain, the longing, the love you still felt for him—it was all too much.

Before you could stop yourself, you closed the remaining distance between you and wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. For a moment, Rafe seemed stunned, but then his arms were around you, holding you tightly against him as if he were afraid you might disappear.

He smelled like salt and the faint scent of his cologne, the combination so achingly familiar that it made your heart ache. You felt his chin rest gently on top of your head, his breath warm against your hair as he held you close.

“I missed you so much,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest. “I didn’t want to, but I did. I missed you every single day.”

“I missed you too,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “More than you’ll ever know.”

For a while, neither of you moved, content to just hold each other, to feel the connection that had never really been broken despite everything that had happened. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore was the only thing that broke the silence, a calming rhythm that matched the beat of your hearts.

But eventually, reality crept back in, and you pulled away slightly, looking up at Rafe. His face was so close to yours, his blue eyes searching your own with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat.

“Rafe,” you began, your voice unsteady, “I don’t know if we can just… go back to how things were. So much has happened.”

“I know,” he said quietly, his hands still resting on your waist. “I know we can’t just pick up where we left off. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust again, Y/n. I want to be with you. I’ve never stopped wanting that.”

You searched his eyes, looking for any sign that he might be saying this out of guilt or obligation, but all you saw was the truth. He meant it. He still loved you, despite everything.

“I still love you too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I never stopped.”

Rafe’s eyes softened, and for a moment, you saw the boy you had fallen in love with all this time ago—the boy who had made you laugh, who had held you when you cried, who had loved you with everything he had.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you’ll let me.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his breath on your skin, the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. And in that moment, you knew that despite everything, you still wanted him. You still wanted to be with him, to try again.

But there was still a part of you that was scared, that didn’t want to go through the pain again.

“I’m scared, Rafe,” you admitted, your voice shaking. “I’m scared that things will go back to how they were.”

He pulled back slightly to look at you, his expression serious. “I won’t hurt you again, Y/n,” he promised, his voice firm. “I’ve been working so hard to change, to be the person you deserve. I won’t let you down this time. I swear.”

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to trust him, to let yourself be vulnerable with him again. But trust was something that had to be earned, and you knew it wouldn’t be easy.

“I need time,” you said softly, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. “I need time to trust you again.”

Rafe nodded, his expression understanding. “I’ll give you all the time you need,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through you. “Okay,” you whispered. “Okay.”

And for the first time in six months, you felt a glimmer of hope. You didn’t know what the future held, but you were willing to take a chance on Rafe, on the love that still burned between you. It wouldn’t be easy, but nothing worth having ever was.

As you stood there on the beach, wrapped in Rafe’s arms, you knew that this was a new beginning. A chance to rebuild what had been broken, to find your way back to each other. And this time, you would do it together.

a/n: i hate this so much! maybe bcs its too long and doesn’t have smut but ill try next time. pls give me requests!!

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron x y/n #outer banks #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron imagine #drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey one shot #angst #fluff #rafe cameron fanfiction #happy ending #drew starkey x reader

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evielmostdefinitely · 10 months

Note

i love soft!coriolanus. big bad mean man being so sweet?

something where maybe you're sick? nothing major but something where he gets to dote on you?

watch over me |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: as requested above, you're sick and coriolanus takes care of you.

contains: slightly dark!coriolanus. possessive and manipulative-ish coriolanus and slight paranoia. past mentions of lucy gray. mainly just fluff.

“Is there a reason you decided not to show up to the luncheon today? Left me sitting there like an idiot without you.” Coriolanus was annoyed, beyond annoyed- tone clipped with irritation, stomping through the suite that was just for the two of you.

He didn’t see you in the living room, not lounging on the couch or even in the sun room. His bristling exasperation grew to raging fear. Sickening, haunting what if’s slammed to the front of his mind, painstaking memories of Lucy Gray’s disappearance. History had repeated itself again, he was sure of it as Coriolanus barked out your name, turning the corner furiously.

Your tiny squeak of a response came from the ensuite bathroom, muffled by the closed door and high ceilings of your bedroom. Coriolanus bounded towards the bathroom, yanking the door open with a fury, softening once he saw you, crumbled on the bathroom tile. Your head pressed against the clawfoot tub, stuffy nose sniffles that had him cringing.

“Darling,” Coriolanus watched you carefully. “Are you alright?”

You lifted your head, eyes red rimmed with irritation. You looked pitiful- Coryo cursed the way it made his heart swell and boast with pure adoration. “I think I might have the plague.” You sounded like your nose was clogged, voice scratchy and soft, looking at him helplessly.

Coryo grinned, a small huff of a laugh, walking over to you. “The plague?” He repeated, pressing a hand to your forehead- the skin clammy and hot. “You feel feverish.”

“I am.” You croaked, leaning into his touch. “I had the doctor check on me. I have the flu. I-I meant to call you, but I got really cold and then hot, and-”

“-That’s alright.” Coriolanus shook his head gently, thumbs massaging your temples in a soft way that had you mewling, head lolling into his touch. “I hate that you’re not feeling well, my love. Did the doctor give you anything?”

“A shot.” You rasped, eyes closed, body pressing further and further into him. “I think my fever broke. I got really hot so I decided to lay in here. The tile is cool.”

“I could have brought you ice.” Coryo muttered. “I can have the Avoxes bring you an ice pack for your head.”

“No, I-I’ll be alright. I feel better now.” You were lying, Coryo knew that, but he didn’t correct you. Not now. Not while you felt so ill.

“I’m sorry I missed the luncheon.” Your eyes rounded when they met his gaze.

“None of that. I won’t hear it.” Coriolanus shook his head firmly, the back of his hand pressed to your forehead. Were you too hot? What did too hot feel like? Should he call the doctor back? His own worries mixed with his sinking guilt made him feel uneasy.

“You need to rest.” Coryo said firmly.

“I-I’m alright. Just let me bathe, and I can make it to the dinner-”

“-Don’t be ridiculous.” Coryo scoffed, a hand on your sweat soaked back, pulling you up, holding you firmly to his side as he walked you towards the bed.

You clung to him, walking stiff from the tightness in your joints, a little dizzy from the medicine and the sudden movements. He loved it, pulling you closer to him. How pliant you were, how easily you obeyed and relied on him.

“You are to stay in bed until you feel better, do you understand me?” Coriolanus commanded, flipping the covers back, helping you into your side of the bed.

You fell into your pillows far too easily, no fight left in you, body flooded with fatigue. It was so easy to let Coryo take control of you like this. Let him take care of you, tell you what you should and shouldn’t do- do it for you without asking. You supposed you shuld feel trapped, and maybe at times you did, but at moments like these, your heart filled with nothing but fondness.

“You tell me if you feel anything, anything even the slightest bit off.” Coryo’s hand pressed to your warm cheek, your eyes glazed with fever. “Are you listening to me?”

“Yes.” You hummed, eyelids drooping. “I will let you know.”

“What do you need now?” The bed dipped, Coriolanus taking a seat next to you. “What can I get for you?”

“I’m just going to rest, Coryo.” You muttered, settling into the soft pillows.

“I’ll get you a glass of water.”

“Coryo, I’m fine.” You grinned sleepily, heart bursting with warmth and adoration for him. “I just need to rest.”

Coriolanus allowed it, commanding his protempore to bring him his work, rescheduling the meetings for the day so he could work at the small desk in the corner of the room. Carefully looking over schedules and statements and militia plans, while also watching you. Every snore, hum, sigh, toss and turn, sound coming from you had his attention peeked, ready at any moment to scream for the doctor. His mind raced still, even with you in front of him, possibilites of horrendous outcomes and terrifying scenarios.

Until you woke up, greeted by a small bowl of soup- one his Grandma’am used to make him and Tigris when they were ill. “I can eat on my own, Coryo.” You shook your head lightly at him, accepting another spoonful of the warm liquid, sighing at how it soothed your aching throat.

Coriolanus didn’t respond, bringing the spoon to your lips instead. And you let him, of course you let him. When he was so gentle like this, fussed over you this way, gave you his undivided attention.

Contentment settled over both of you behind the closed doors of your home. This type of softness never to be seen outside of here. Tomorrow, Coriolanus would order three executions in the Capitol, striking even more fear over the Districts and weeding out the rebels. He’d be merciless and cold and cruel out there, but for you- for now, he’d be gentle.

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hoe4sports · 2 months

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How this ends

Alexia Putellas x reader

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

A note from the author: This is an older draft that i have yet to share. The song is inspired by Lewis Capaldi’s «How this ends». I see every comment you write and I see every repost with a note added to it. I’m forever grateful for the love you give my writing. Thank you so so much. I’m endlessly grateful.

Warnings: angst.

Summary: Alexia decides that after 13 years, she’s done.

Alexia knew it was all for the best. A part of her wishes that she had never met you, that she has never let herself fall in love with you, that she never allowed herself to feel all those wonderful feelings you brought into her life. It was a selfish decision, and Alexia knew that. But in her mind, the only solution was calling it off.

She could see you slowly slipping away from her grip. Like you were slowly fading from a painting that she had once painted. Like someone was erasing you from the story she was writing. A part of her wishes that you had never gotten to this point. And she hates that you understand and that you still love her. She wanted you to hate her. To tell her that she was the most awful person in the world. To tell her that she didn’t deserve anything good to happen to her. Instead, you accepted her decision with grace. You slowly packed your bags over the next few weeks, bringing more and more stuff over to your friend, Frido’s house. With each item that disappeared, it felt like a piece of you slipped away.

Alexia was also somewhat embarrassed. Her sister, Alba, had convinced her that you were using her for her money. That you wanted her to quit football. That you eventually were planning to run away from her with her money and her house. She didn’t know how she had allowed herself to believe her sister. But, they had been best friends growing up. She trusted her. She trusted her judgment of you. But she forgot to consider that the pair of you had spent years together. You had gotten together when you were 13. Now, 13 years later. It had all come to an end.

You left out a quiet sight as you walked around in the cold, empty apartment. You traced your fingers along the beautiful carvings on the walls feeling that familiar gloss finish you had agreed upon years prior. The feeling is seeing this home turn into just an apartment was haunting. It hurt in a way that only could be described as crushing. Your footsteps led you around the apartment to the door of what once was your shared walk in closet. You reached for the door and opened it. It was half empty. More than half empty actually, if you were to take the things you had purchased, then Alexia would be left with basically nothing to her name except a few boxers, some socks and a set of sweats. Your gaze shifted to your side of the closet. The memory of standing there for hours trying to pick the perfect outfit for Alexia’s social events was woken back to life. It made you smile sadly. God, you thought to yourself, you loved getting ready for her. The chandelier was hanging in the middle of the room, and you offered it a gaze while your hand rested on the light switch. The chandelier sparkled in reflection of the light, reminding you of why you had purchased it. Speaking of the chandelier, it was also something that you had purchased for your own money. You sighted as you turned off the lights and closed the door shut.

You passed your guest room on your way to the bedroom. It made you smile. The memories of a drunken Mapi that had lost her keys and Ingrid’s keys while going out for a drink. She had camped in your guest room, unannounced. Ingrid had been so confused when she called Alexia to ask if she had seen Mapi. You smiled as you took a last gaze over the room. Seeing all the things you had purchased alone because Alexia didn’t have the time to go shopping. She’d told you that you could take her credit card, and you did. But she didn’t know that you never used it.

You continued to the main bedroom. To your bedroom. Where you had spent hours listening to Alexia’s dreams and hopes. Where you had watches dumb arguments unfold over stress and pressure from work. It was strange, how her dreams had changed over the decade. From wishing to play for a living to dreaming of the ballon d’or. It was always strange, how none of her dreams were about the pair of you. It was always her dreams, her wishes and her hopes. It wasn’t always like that. Once, she was your Alexia. That would bring home flowers. That would dream about weddings, kids and growing old together. Football took that part of her away, and maybe you could’ve been more consistent. Asked more. Understood more. Waited more. Then maybe Alexia could’ve still been your Alexia. Your eyes closed in hopes of stopping the burning feeling you felt in you eyes. It didn’t help, really. You flipped the lights off and shut the door.

Then you moved on to the next room.There was the bathroom. You favourite room. The place that had seen all the things that you didn’t tell people about, not even Alexia or Frido. The place where you cried, laughed, screamed, had occasional sex and spent most of your sick days. Where you had found yourself sat after the losses of all your pregnancies. This room was your sanctuary. It was where you could allow yourself to feel whatever you needed to feel. Where you’d allow the tears to quietly hit the drain while you felt neglected and abandoned. But, yet, you stayed. You stayed, again and again and again. Hoping that your girlfriend would return to her normal self. To get her fame out of her ass. But the turning point you had been hoping and praying for, never came. You looked over at the vanity. Just Alexia’s toothbrush left. No toothpaste. She never bought her own. She never really bought anything for the apartment because she didn’t have the time. You spent hours decorating, shopping, furnishing and trying to bring some life into the empty shell Alexia once had purchased. The floor behind you made a squeak, and you knew Alexia were behind you. You caught your breath, turned off the lights and closed the door.

Your feet then walked towards the living room. The core of the apartment. It had some of the most gorgeous views that you had ever encountered. Anything from gloomy stunning sunrises to slow beautiful sunsets. You were particularly pleased with the look of the room. It was warm and welcoming, but also bright and modern. The white walls matched the white soft couch. You sat down in the couch and let your fingertips run across it. It still made you feel cozy. Like you wanted to wake up from this nightmare and wrap yourself up in a warm blanket. This dumb couch that you had paid a ridiculous amount of money for. Where you and Frido had found yourself at the most ungodly hour gossiping about the players and the people at your job. The spot where you and Alexia once had spent hours giggling, watching sad movies, doing face masks and watching games of football. The thought of your lighthearted memories made during your earlier days brought a well wanted smile to your face.

Your eyes caught the door of the balcony. You loved that balcony endlessly. Your hand searched for the handle as you opened up the door taking in the fresh Barcelonian air. The views from the balcony was undoubtedly the most stunning views of Barcelona. You could see the beach, hear the waves and smell the salty air. The combination of sensations was enough to make anyone want to buy the place. You remembered when you and Alexia had the time to sit outside. Drinking glasses of Wine in the off season, eating watermelon that you had picked up at the local market after games. The mix of your favourite fruit and your favourite person brought tears to your eyes. Things were different now. So different that you couldn’t even have imagined in your wildest dreams that you would’ve been here. Everything was complicated. Painful. You shut the door to the balcony and locked it for the last time.

Your last stop was the kitchen. The intention of stopping by it hadn’t been on your mind, but you passed it as you were heading towards the entrance. You remember all the nights you spent making pasta with Alexia wrapped around your waist. Her standing behind you, embracing you pretending that she wanted to learn when all she really wanted was to be close to you. To hold you tight. All the morning coffees you had shared, Alexia always insisted on drinking her coffee pitch black while you preferred to ice yours. You’d try different types of syrups and flavors to perfect your coffee. Down the lane, she was convinced that maybe iced coffee wasn’t too bad. But only when the coffee was made by you. Your gaze shifted to the countertops. The spot where you would make sure always had Alexia’s favourite red apples. Only the crispy kind though. Before you moved, you closed your eyes. You didn’t understand why your efforts were never enough. Why your patience was never enough for Alexia. You accepted anything she threw at you. Cancelled dates, missed anniversaries and forgotten birthdays. Always understanding that work was her focus. That football was her number one. Yet, you loved her. You still do. But you are so confused. And so hurt.

It was stange and painful. But you couldn’t stay there anymore. It was not right, and it was not how you wanted things to be like at this point in your life. Things had changed so fast. Faster than anyone could’ve expected. Some changes for the good, and some for the worse. You held a tight grip on my phone as you stood there with my eyes closed not wanting to leave the comfort of what once had been your home. The thought of someone’s living eventually moving in with Alexia, having new memories and living in all the furniture that you once had purchased pained you. A sob escaped your lips while tears were silently rolling down your cheeks. Alexia stood next to the entrance staring at the ground.

“Well” you said letting out a laugh. “I guess this is it”

Alexia looked at you with sorrow in her eyes, not saying anything. It felt like room was on fire. Like everything was shutting down. Like the world was brutally coming to an ends

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t be enough for you, Alexia. I really tried to be what you needed for 10 years. I’m sorry I couldn’t be that. Maybe in the next lifetime? “

She didn’t say a word. Just looked at you with an empty look in her eyes.

You walked towards the door. And put your hand on the handle before turning to Alexia. Your hand reached for your pocket. It was the promise ring she gave you at 20. When she promised that you would get engaged one day. You held the ring tight in your hand looking down at your hand. Then you looked at Alexia who just stood there. You took a deep breath before you kissed her cheek and opened her hand. You placed the ring in her hand before looking at her with a sad grin. Her eyes looked at the ring before her gaze turned towards you. She looked like someone had stolen her puppy.

“Que? Why are you giving me your ring?”

“It’s not mine to wear anymore, Ale”

“Ai, no! I gave it to you, si?”

“Yes?”

“Vale, that means it’s yours”

You looked at her with a sad look in your eyes before giving her a sad smile and shaking your head.

“Goodbye, Alexia”

Then you turned your back and walked away. The few items you had left in the apartment, had now been placed in a reusable ikea bag that you borrowed from Frido. You couldn’t help but let a few tears fall to the ground as you walked away. Every cell in your body wanted you to turn around. To run back into Alexia’s arms. To beg her to take you back. It took all the strength in your body to walk down to the spot where Frido was gonna pick you up. If you had turned around, you wouldn’t have been able to leave. The only reason you were able to keep walking was because you loved Alexia more than yourself. If she was happy and she got whatever she needed, then you were gonna be okay. Eventually, at least.

*Alexia pov*

A few days after you left for good, she came home from another horrible day at work. She locked the door and spirited to your her bedroom. She laid down on your side of the bed in complete darkness. Her face was staring into the pitch black ceiling. A lump formed in her throat and the tears were pressing on her eyelids. She hadn’t eaten much since you broke up. She hadn’t even slept much. Her workouts had been shitty. And she didn’t know how to function. She thought that she had gotten too attached. That you controlled her life to much. She had been so sure that what Alba said was true that she forgot to think for herself.

However, as she was laying down in complete darkness on your side of the bed. She realised her terrible mistake. Her eyes widened as soon as she realised. She had let other people’s thoughts become her own. She remembered all the times you had missed things for her. All the times she was a shitty girlfriend. She made you miss your nieces first birthday , your parents 30th wedding anniversary and the funeral of your grandmother. What had she sacrificed? What had she given to make the relationship work? She bought the apartment. But you bought the furniture. You made the house a home. You had wanted kids and marriage , and she wanted that too. But then there was football. And you said you’d wait, and alexia had promised you that she would make it happen. You had given everything you wanted away while Alexia got it all. No compromises, just you always accepting all the shit she threw at you.

She didn’t know where it all went wrong. By now, her tears were streaming down her face. Her hands clutching your pillow like it was the last source of water left at this planet. Her lungs desperately breathing in your scent, terrified to forget what you smelled liked One day she was being scolded by her mami for not purposing to you. The next day, Alba insisted that you were using her. But you made her life easier, better, enjoyable. You showered her with the purest kind of love that she didn’t even deserve. Alexia felt confused. Embarrassed. Scared. Angry. You were always so good to here even though she was a horrible girlfriend. She had let the love of her live walk out of the doors, forever. She had made the biggest mistake of her life. She couldn’t accept that this is how it ends. She needed to fix this.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #alexia putellas x reader #alexia x reader #alexia putellas #barca femini x reader #barcelona x reader #barcelona women #barca femeni

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harryslittlefreakk · 9 months

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the pact

summary: you and harry made a childhood pact to marry if you were both still single when he reached 30. now that his big birthday is approaching, you find out whether your friendship (and your pact) have stood the test of time

warnings: mostly fluff, some smut :)

wordcount: 6k

a/n: i actually really like this one. it’s not proofread yet as i was so eager to get it up lol. hope you enjoy!

my masterlist can be found here! happy reading 🫶🏼

From the second you’d received the invitation, you were buzzing with a giddy nervousness. It had been years since you’d seen Harry, though Anne and Gemma were always so quick to share what he was up to. You’d followed his career silently for 13 years, still bumping into him every few years when Anne hosted Boxing Day, or he happened to be in town for your family’s annual summer barbecues. In your mind, he was still the cheeky, dimpled little lad you’d hide under the dining room table with, imagining you were explorers of far away lands.

But Harry wasn’t the young boy you’d chased after in your childhood anymore, the teenager you looked out for when you stuck your head over the garden fence to call your sister home. He wasn’t the handsome young man you’d spent countless hours swooning over with your friends in the bakery after school. Harry was a global sensation, the world’s sweetheart. You weren’t sure he’d even recognise you, a forgotten reminder of much simpler days.

Growing up next door to Harry hadn’t come without its challenges. You’d lost your childhood best friend seemingly overnight once One Direction formed, his life suddenly busy with meetings, tours and interviews. Anne still welcomed you with open arms, but her house felt a little too cold for you with his presence haunting the walls, memories etched into every surface of the house. You’d still hang out in his bedroom sometimes, his band posters and drawings left collecting dust in a lifeless room. When girls from school learned of your connection to him, they’d befriend you and treat you like the hottest new thing until you refused to give over any information. He was your Harry, your long-gone games and silly memories something you held close to your heart. It soon seemed easier to let him go altogether, move on to a new chapter, stop waiting for your best friend to appear again.

Still, you were glad to be able to support Gemma on one of her biggest days. She’d become such a regular feature in your household, she felt like family herself. Your parents had been more overjoyed at the news of her impending nuptials than any of yours or your sister’s recent achievements. They loved Gemma like their own, their ‘extra daughter’, as your dad called her. You knew this was as big a moment for them as it was for Anne, having watched Gemma grow from the tiny dark-haired girl your sister had raved about on her first day of school, to a woman about to become a wife.

Standing outside of the venue now, a beautiful old church overlooking the peaceful tides below, yours and Harry’s childhood pact suddenly hit you. You were laying on a blanket in your garden, tops of your heads pressed together as you made out shapes in the clouds above. “I will never get married,” you told Harry. Your parents had had their wedding album out that day, sharing stories with Anne and Robin. You squirmed and grimaced every time they spoke about it, never understanding how any girl would willingly share their life with a boy. “Yuck,” he squeaked from next to you. “Me either. I don’t ever want to live with a stinky girl!” You giggled together, the cool evening breeze washing over you. “Maybe, maybe I might one day though. When I’m really old and lonely.”

“Old like my parents?” you asked him. “Even olderer than that. Like 30.” You gasped, quickly trying to count on your fingers. “That’s really really old. Maybe we can be married when we’re 30.” Harry ran inside when you said this, leaving you chasing after him once again. He grabbed a napkin from the kitchen counter and scribbled on it in felt tip,

‘I ____ will marry Harry when we’re really super old’

“You have to put your name on that line or it’s not real,” Harry told you, handing the blue felt tip to you. You both signed your initials underneath, and proudly went to show your parents. They’d fallen about in laughter when you told them, promising to hold you to your pact. You hadn’t seen the napkin since that day, and you were sure it was long forgotten by everybody, especially Harry. You felt a small twinge in your chest at this, suddenly wishing you were anywhere but here.

“Hey Boo, you okay? Anne wants to get some pictures of us all together before the ceremony,” your dad told you, leading you through the crowd of guests. Boo was the only nickname that had ever stuck for you, starting when you and Harry decided to go as Boo and Sully from Monsters Inc. one Halloween. You’d originally wanted to be Mike, but with your big brown eyes shielded by little bangs and your signature pigtails, everyone persuaded you to be Boo. You’d outgrown almost everything else from childhood, but Boo was stuck with you for life.

“Oh Y/N, you look lovely darling,” Anne cooed as you came into her sight. She pulled you in for a hug, kissing your cheek as she pulled away. You had to admit, you did scrub up well. It was a long time since you’d really made the effort to look properly nice, still caught in the comfort of your pandemic wardrobe of leggings and sweatshirts. The olive-green maxi dress you’d settled on hugged your body in all the right places, a thick band of material draping over your chest and the tops of your arms, showcasing your toned shoulders. You’d always weirdly liked your shoulders and neck, an odd area to be proud of but it was by far your favourite part of your body. Your hair was scraped back in a sleek bun, tiny wisps framing your fresh face. “Gem and Sophia are still inside, they’ll be out in a minute. Gem’s so excited to see you, it’s been so long since we’ve all been together,” Anne gushed, running a hand up the outside of your arm.

She had such a delicate, warm presence, it was no wonder she’d raised two children as incredible as Harry and Gemma. Anne had been an extension of your own mum as you grew up, small traces of her as much as part of you as they were her own kids. She’d talked you through boys and heartbreaks, been there to wave you off to your school prom, one of the proudest faces in the crowd when you graduated university. She’d been stationed on the garden patio alongside your mum at every birthday party, the two women nattering away as they guarded the wine.

Gemma stepped out of the door, pulling you out of your daydream down memory lane. Your jaw went slack when you saw her, she was positively radiant. Her dress was a dainty satin, huge bishop sleeves adorning her arms and a beautiful full skirt, flowing around her petite frame in the gentle seaside breeze. Your mum rushed over to her first, smoothing a loving hand down the front of her skirt. “You look beautiful Gem,” she told her, tears glistening on her bottom eyelashes. Hugs and pleasantries were exchanged throughout the group, shoulders bumping gaily as you moved around. One thing was still missing though - Harry. You knew he’d never miss his sisters wedding, though he was absolutely nowhere to be seen. Just as you were about to ask, you saw him. With a deep brown suit jacket draped across his body, matching slacks hanging loose on his muscular thighs. A white vest hung low on his chest, his inked swallows sitting pretty on tanned skin.

You knew how good he looked these days, of course. Your tiktok had been full of videos of him performing, Anne’s house littered with framed photos. But seeing him in real life lit a fire in your belly. He’d always been pretty, green eyes and curls enough to charm any woman, but now he was hot. A great, big hunk of sexy man. He approached your parents first, laughing as your dad chose to forgo Harry’s outstretched hand, pulling him into a hug instead. “Here’s our not-so-little superstar,” he smiled, ruffling Harry’s messy curls. Harry pressed a kiss into your mums cheek, exchanging a quick but heartfelt hello. His eyes caught on yours as he glanced across the courtyard, your brown eyes still crinkled as you smiled, in exactly the same way they had when you were younger. “Little Boo!” he chuckled, striding towards you. His strong arms wrapped you into a firm cuddle, his musky scent spilling into your pores. “You look incredible,” he whispered into your ear, voice raspy and low. It wasn’t long before Anne was ushering you all into place to take some pictures, cutting yours and Harry’s catch up short. “Come and find me later,” he told you as you beamed for the camera.

—

With the ceremony long-finished, the party had spilled out of the church hall and onto the grounds outside. You’d danced, mingled and laughed for as long as you could before needing a minute of quiet. Brushing your hand across your mum’s back, you told her you were going for a little walk and would be back soon. You slipped out of the open doors, yanking your heels off in search of some quick relief. You spotted a little wooden bench overlooking the sea, a little way away from the other guests. A great oak tree shielded it from the warm evening sun, providing you just the right amount of peace.

“Thought you were gonna find me,” a voice suddenly came from behind you. You turned around to see Harry approaching your private spot, a sparkling glass in each hand. “Hey,” you smiled. “Just needed a little bit of quiet. Come sit,” you patted the bench beside you. Harry handed you one of the glasses as he sat down, murmuring, “saw you heading over here. Thought I’d bring you a little tipple.” You cheersed, the clinking of glasses cutting through a heavy silence. “How have you been?” he asked you, shifting his body slightly to face you.

“Been good, H. Thank you for asking. Work’s going well, was a bit slow with the pandemic and all but life’s been kind to me recently. I don’t really need to ask you, do I?” you laughed, suddenly shy in his presence. “No, I guess not,” he answered, smiling kindly at you. You settled back into an uncomfortable silence, not really sure how to talk to one another anymore.

“Mum told me you moved to London,” Harry said, seemingly desperate to pierce the awkwardness hanging over you both. “Yeah, I did,” you told him, explaining how Holmes Chapel had started to feel just a little too small, a little too cut off from the rest of the world. “I can understand that,” he told you, chuckling. You ran through the usual questions, telling him about your work as an illustrator, your little flat off of Finchley high road, the couple of girls from school you’d kept in touch with. “I can’t believe you live so close to me,” he gasped. “Mum could never remember what area you lived in, if I’d known you were only down the road we could have reconnected long before now,” Harry told you. You let out an involuntary scoff at this, telling him, “you know where to find me, H. You know your mum has my number, you know where I’ll be every Christmas and birthday. If you really wanted to reconnect it would have happened long before now.” Your words tumbled out, years of one-sided hurt and rejection suddenly pushing to the surface. Harry took a big sip of his drink, placing his hand over yours. “I’ve been shit, I know. Got caught up in everything and barely looked back. Wanted to reach out a long time before now but I couldn’t bring myself,” he told you. “Felt so bad for how I just disappeared and didn’t want to face it.”

You looked at him with sad eyes, searching his face for any sign of insincerity. “I get it, H. I’m really happy for you, I am. You had all your dreams come true, it’s amazing,” you set your glass down beside you and held your other hand over his. “Just feel sad that I lost my best friend overnight.” Your eyes welled up as you spoke, a combination of the free-flowing prosecco, the beautiful ceremony, and facing your hurt with the man who caused it. “Never had a friend who got me like you did,” you chuckled bitterly. Harry pulled his hands from yours and snaked an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. “I’m sorry, little Boo, I swear.”

The pair of you stayed that way for a while, soaking in each other’s words and the idyllic setting. Just being close to each other for the first time in almost a decade, having said what you both needed to, was bliss. “I thought about you a lot, y’know,” Harry told you suddenly, the words bursting out as if he’d been biting them back for a while. “Yeah?” you asked him, sitting up straighter to look at him again. He nodded, cheeks twinged slightly pink. You weren’t sure if it was the booze or his confession. “All my big moments, always wished you were there.”

“You know I would’ve been if I knew you wanted me to, Harry.”

“I know,” he mumbled, watching his own trainer-clad feet kicking little rocks around. “My mum and dad went to a few of your shows with Anne, watched the Brits and the Grammys every year you were nominated.” You swallowed thickly, before continuing, “I’m really proud of you, we all are.”

Harry turned his head slightly to the sound of music blaring from inside, before asking you, “dance with me?” He extended a hand to help you up, placing his glass down before wrapping an arm around your waist. You stepped together slowly, bodies moving in unison with your head rested softly against his chest. The skies had gotten gradually darker as you’d spoken, closing in around you until only a faint glow seeped out from the open church doors. Harry pushed you out, spinning you around before tugging you back into him. You smacked against his chest with a little ‘umph’, the wind knocked out of you. Your eyes met his, a little dazed, and all you could do was stare.

It felt like a betrayal of your childhood self to find him so attractive now. He was your best friend, your first friend, the only one to ever understand you fully. He’d guided you through your awkward pre-teen stage, the extra years he had on you put to good use when he showed you cool bands and songs to make boys like you. But now, you wanted him to be the boy that liked you. You were so flustered under his gaze, heat tearing through your body. “Let’s head back in,” you told Harry, words shaky. He kept an arm tight around your shoulder, shaking you about as you approached the church. ‘I’ve got my little Boo back’ he laughed in a sing-song tune. You could feel the happiness radiating off his body, knowing without even looking that his toothy grin would be firmly nestled between two deep dimples.

Your parents were sat around a table with Anne, Michal and Gemma still doing the rounds. You could tell they were drunk from a mile away - your dads cheeks stained red with merriment and Anne’s hands gesturing wildly as your mum roared with laughter. You’d missed this. You still went home as often as you could, never missing an opportunity to enjoy time with your loved ones, but before seeing Harry today it always felt different. Gemma, your sister, and Harry had all moved on, never fully present. But being the youngest, you were the one left behind. Harry pulled around two chairs for you both, plopping down between you and his mum. She draped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. “My special boy, where have you been?” she slurred.

“Been catching up,” Harry told her, a blush creeping up his cheeks as she looked between the two of you before winking at him. She was far from subtle before getting wine drunk, so now her entire head moved with her wink. She highlighted it with a loud “wink, wink” in Harry’s direction. “Anne!” you spluttered, choking out a laugh. Your dad reached over to snatch the two empty glasses from in front of you and Harry, promising to fill them to the brim so you could ‘get on their bloody level’.

The evening continued like that, the 5 of you drinking and laughing, reminiscing on your younger days. Your parents and Anne managing to bring up enough embarrassing stories about you both to put you off ever speaking to them again. “I think it’s time we all go to bed,” Harry started, holding his hands up. “Because we’re all fucking PISSED!”, he continued, yelling at the table. You banged on the table in hysterics, eyes screwed up tight as you and Anne fell into each other in laughter. Most of the venue had cleared out by now, guests dropping by your table to congratulate Anne on their way out. You’d barely seen Gemma all night, so content in her little love bubble that she’d spent the majority of the evening alone with Michal, feeding each other cake and slow-dancing.

“Come on, you big lump,” you tugged at your dad’s wrists who in turn pulled at your mum to stand up. Your dad swung his arms around you both, Harry and Anne joining onto the end, and you stumbled towards the exit in a fit of laughter. Harry tried to start a can-can line, kicking one big foot up into the air, but the 5 of you put together had far less coordination than even one sober person, so the idea was quickly abandoned.

The church had a converted barn outside, with rooms purpose-built for immediate family and friends to stay in. You hugged and kissed your goodnights to your parents and Anne, making sure they all got into bed without mischief. Now it was only you and Harry left, buzzed but significantly less drunk than your elders. “Care for one last round?” Harry asked you, slipping a little hip flask out from his blazer pocket. You knew this was a bad idea, a drunken evening alone with the man you’d been lusting after all day. But you certainly wouldn’t make the first move, and you were almost sure he didn’t think of you as anything other than the little girl who used to run around with him.

You followed him into his room, laughing to drown out the alarm bells ringing in your head. Once you saw the empty bed in front of you, you couldn’t help but just flop down on it, suddenly needing to be as comfortable as you could. The room was aged and rustic, but the bed was far more comfortable than it looked. Harry sat against the pillows beside you, long legs stretched out before him as he took a swig from the flask.

For the first time that day, the silence around you was peaceful. Just two old friends enjoying each others presence. Harry watched you as you took the flask from him, grimacing as the liquor went down with a burn. His green eyes were studying every little line on your face, every freckle dotted across your bare shoulders. There was so much new about you, so many little details and marks you’d gained as you grew older, all the little telltale signs of the years he’d missed. What he’d said to you earlier was true, he’d missed you with his whole heart from the second he’d left you behind, spent so many lonely nights wishing he had you by his side. He thought he’d outgrown you, his new-found fame taking precedence over the little girl he’d shared his dreams and aspirations with. But sitting here now with you, he knew you’d grown with him, no matter how far removed your life had become from his. “‘M nearly 30, you know,” he drawled, voice hoarse from the singing and the sting of alcohol in his throat.

“Huh?” you turned to him confused. “I’m 30 next year,” he told you. “Yeah I know, H. What does that have to do with anything?” you laughed, poking at the side of his head. “Means we have to get married next year,” he grinned. You gasped, remembering the pact you’d thought about earlier in the day, “you didn’t forget!” you laughed, sitting up against the soft pillows.

“Can’t do it next year though, two weddings in a year would send our parents insane,” you told him. “‘M finished with my tour now. Got nothing on next year,” Harry shrugged, a familiar cheeky smirk sitting pretty between his dimpled cheeks. You felt something shift in the air as he spoke, and he seemed to feel it too, edging closer to you until his face was only centimetres away from yours. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he cooed, one hand coming up to cup your cheek. His touch shot electricity through your core, a tingling sensation starting where his fingers touched you before washing over your whole body. You shook your head lightly, eyes fixed on him. He leaned in at this, his parted lips meeting yours. The beginnings of a moustache tickled your upper lip, his hot breath flowing into your mouth with every lick of his tongue. You shifted your body towards him as the kiss deepened, four legs and the now-crumpled duvet tangling together as you rushed to close the distance between your bodies. Harry licked into your mouth with the passion of a million years of unspoken longing, his movements saying more than he ever could with words. It was the kind of kiss you’d expect from someone who’d loved you for a lifetime, who wanted to love you for a lifetime, your tongues working alongside each other like this was routine, like you’d done it a thousand times before.

“Harry,” you whispered, hands pushing his blazer from his shoulders. He let you pull it off him, then stroked a hand up your thigh as you admired his upper body. One arm was littered in patchwork tattoos, though all you could focus on was his muscles, illuminated beautifully in the evening light. “Let me get you out of this,” he rasped, twisting your shoulders around to access the zip running down the back of your dress. He smoothed his fingers down your waist and to your hips before unzipping you, your body dwarfed by his strong hands. Harry pressed a kiss into the top of your back, then kissed up and down your spine, hungry for a taste of you as he unveiled more of your skin. You stood up to help him pull your dress down, resting one hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you stepped out of it, leaving it discarded on the floor. “Matches my eyes,” he smiled. His gaze trailed from your toes, up to your knees, to where your panties wrapped around your hips, and higher still. Up your tanned abdomen to your bare breasts where your rosebud nipples sat perky, to your neck, and finally his gaze rested on your eyes. “Y’so beautiful,” he groaned, running a soft touch along the curve of your neck.

Harry pulled his tank top over his head, stepping out of his slacks as they collapsed at his feet. His body was unbelievable. So tanned and toned, firm in all the right places yet soft in the best ones. You could see the outline of his hard shaft through the thin fabric of his boxers, an almost silent moan slipping out as you took in the sight before you.

He stepped closer to you, backing you up until the side of the bed hit the back of your knees, then held a hand to your back to guide you down onto it. His hot, drunken breath washed over you as he climbed on top of you, one hand balancing his body as the other explored you. His fingers groped your breast firmly, mouth finding the opposite nipple, sucking it into his lips in one quick movement. Your back arched off the bed, pleasure so built up that it only took one touch to send you into a frenzy. Harry licked a circle around your areola, chuckling against your skin as you writhed under his touch. “Barely even started yet, little Boo,” he drawled, moving upwards to kiss along your clenched jaw.

His fingers danced down your body, smoothing over your mound as you gasped and groaned. They slipped under the soft material of your panties, blissfully cold against the heat of your entrance. You were already soaked through, much to his surprise, so he swiped a finger through your folds to collect your juices before landing straight on your clit. Harry rubbed you in circles, the friction leaving you a panting mess under him, head jutting out to press open-mouthed kisses on his throat.

He pulled your panties down your thighs tenderly, kissing every inch of skin they passed over. In the dim light of the room, mouth moving up and down your body, he’d never looked so handsome. His cock brushed against you as he moved back up your body to focus again on your folds, your juices spread across your mound in a mess. Two long fingers dived straight in, his rings leaving a harsh chill against your sensitive skin. The stretch of his fingers alone had you panting, a familiar burning starting in your core. Harry found your sweet spot insanely fast, fingers moving in a perfect beckoning motion just as you liked. He navigated your body like you’d done this before, like the muscle memory just guided him to what he knew made you feel good. “I want more, want you inside of me,” you whined, hips bucking towards Harry’s groin as he silenced you with a deep kiss. “Got to get you ready for me first, Boo”, he told you. You winced as he used your nickname, knowing you’d never be able to hear your dad call you that without thinking of this night.

Harry’s mouth found your breast again, sucking deep purple bruises onto the gentle skin as you whimpered beneath him. He smacked at your pussy as your moans got louder, causing your eyes to shoot up to meet his. “Gotta keep the noise down, sweet girl.” You nodded in response, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip to keep yourself as quiet as you could be. The second his tongue found your nipple, you felt your orgasm bubbling up in your core. Harry noticed the way your head lulled back, slipping a third finger inside of you and using his thumb to brush against your clit. It was like the holy trinity of foreplay, his skilled tongue and fingers hitting your three most pleasurable zones at once. Your climax hit quickly, walls tightening around his digits as you clamped your forearm across your mouth, desperately trying not to scream his name. He peppered kisses down your throat as his fingers rode you through your high, only pulling them away when you went limp under him. Harry held his fingers to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick off every trace of your creamy come.

He backed off you to kick his boxers down his legs, stroking his erection as it oozed precum. He found his wallet, pulling out a condom and rolling it down the length of his cock. “How do you want me, sweet girl?” he asked you, cock twitching in his hand. “Wanna go on top,” you told him, suddenly eager to impress. If his cock was anywhere near as good to you as his hands and mouth had been, you couldn’t only have him once. You needed to show him how good your pretty pussy could take him, make him want to come back for more.

Harry rolled onto the centre of the bed, hands guiding your hips down over his groin. His hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you towards him for a sloppy kiss. His mouth tasted of you, the familiar tingle of juices on his tongue. You stroked his member up and down quickly, before lining it up with your entrance and pushing yourself down onto his tip. “Fuck, H. You’re so big,” you whined, thighs burning as you hovered above him. He used his hands to move you up, then down, down, down, helping you to take him fully. The burn was like nothing you’d experienced before, his girthy cock crammed into every corner of your pussy. You stilled for a moment, hands resting against his butterfly tattoo, chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to push past the ache. He held a thumb under your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “You ok, pet?” he asked, needing to be sure before you continued. You nodded, moving one arm to pull his finger into your mouth. You licked circles around his fingertip, sucking it in down to his knuckle before releasing with it a pop.

Harry’s hands guided your hips to grind against him, helping you until you found your rhythm. He pulled them away, one landing with a loud smack on your ass cheek as the other crept up the front of your body, resting at your throat. He squeezed lightly, the sensation only spurring you on to bounce up and down on him, the combination of your juices squelching as your cheeks slapped against his groin. It was the kind of hot, dirty sex you’d only ever dreamed of, and it had you falling apart on top of him. You cried out a strangled moan, expletives falling out of both of your mouths. “Feel so good around me,” Harry groaned, “so fucking wet. S’that all for me?”

“All for you, H. M’all yours,” you whimpered. His hips bucked against you as you told him you were his, fingers pulling away from your supple ass. He spat on them before dancing them back across your asscheek and smoothing the spit around your second hole, eyes fixed on your pussy bouncing on his cock. “Can I?” he asked you. “Please, H.”

He pushed a finger into your tightness, filling you up so well. You felt so full you could burst. His eyes were clouded over with lust, tiny hairs slick to his forehead with sweat. He looked feral, and you loved it. He repositioned his feet to where they were flat against the bed, hips knocking into you as you moved up and down his cock, his thrusts sending him deeper and deeper inside of you. You were both panting now, barely able to contain your highs for a second longer. “Come with me, come with me please,” you begged him, your second orgasm of the night starting to rise through your core. His thrusts got faster and sloppier, obscene sounds echoing around the room, a clear sign of what you were doing to anyone who could hear you right now. Your orgasm crept up on you quickly, thanks to Harry tightening his grip around your neck and pushing his finger further into your tight hole. Your head was thrown back as you came, back arched making his cock feel as though it could burst through your belly button. Harry moaned loudly, hips jutting one last time as he flooded the condom with his come. You collapsed in a sweaty heap, totally unable to hold yourself up any longer.

“Took me so well, angel girl,” Harry drawled as he pulled out of you, padding across the room to toss the condom and rinse his hands. You lay there in total bliss, comfortable in the knowledge that your friendship was long gone.

—

“Let me go first and you can come after,” you told Harry, holding a finger up to shush him when he started to laugh. “We’re grown adults, Y/N, it doesn’t matter if anyone sees us come out together.”

“I don’t write songs about sex and drugs. My body is still untouched in my parents eyes,” you told him, hand slipping from the doorknob as he pulled you in for another kiss. “Just don’t come until you hear me leaving.”

You crept out of the room as silently as you could, heels and dress bundled under one arm. You’d heard Anne, your parents and Gemma head out to the courtyard already, so there was no danger of being caught by prying eyes - or so you thought. As you were padding across the hallway to your room, Anne appeared round the corner. “I was just coming to see if you were awake,” she told you, eyes sparkling with glee. “No wonder your mum said your bed was untouched.” She knocked on Harry’s door with a tight-lipped smile lighting up her face. He opened the door wide-eyed as Anne pulled him into a firm hug, pressing a sticky lipgloss kiss to his cheek. “I always hoped you two would get together.” She disappeared back down the hall as quickly as she appeared, leaving you and Harry blushing.

You decided to make your way outside together, knowing it wouldn’t be long before your parents put two and two together anyway. Plus, you knew Anne wouldn’t be able to resist telling your mum and Gemma what she saw.

—

You decided to spend the day on the beach, you and Harry with your parents and Anne, since Gemma and Michal had already left for their honeymoon. It was a perfect summers day, the sun warm enough to enjoy but not hot enough to irritate you, the gentle sea breeze cooling you down as it washed over you. Your mum and Anne were sprawled across a linen blanket, two bottles of wine stood in the sand next to their feet. They called you over, instant dread washing over you as Anne excitedly shouted your name. “Do you have anything to tell us?” she asked you, and you were sure there would be mischief glinting in her eyes under her big sunglasses. They sat up and scooted over on their blanket, leaving space for you to slot in between. “Nothing that I’m sure you don’t already know,” you smirked, a deep blush creeping up your cheeks. Your mum looked between Anne and you, gasping as she swatted at your leg. “So it’s true! You dirty little minx.”

You held your head in your hands, mortified that your parents knew you’d slept with Harry. “Oh relax,” your mum told you. “It’s nothing we haven’t done before,” she smirked, throwing herself towards Anne as they howled in laughter. Anne stopped suddenly, her hand tapping at your mum’s thigh incessantly. “If they get married, we’ll be real family!” she gasped, face pink with joy. “Well, the pact is what got us there in the first place,” Harry told them, sitting down next to you and snaking a hand around your waist.

“I forgot all about that,” your mum’s jaw went slack. “Do you still have it?” she asked Anne. “Of course I do. Kept it safe to show them when they found their way back to each other, always knew this day would come.”

part two

taglist: @sleutherclaw @harrysolaf @slutforcoffein

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flowerandblood · 2 months

Text

The Lost Haven (7/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: uprotected sex, incest obviously, smut, the angst, manipulation (partly unintentional), violent description of suicide attempt (blood), injection of a sleeping drug, violence, imprisoning, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He could have become a father.

Could was the key word in his life: he could do a lot of things theoretically, but for the most part the line between what was accessible to him and what was not was clearly drawn.

He couldn't escape the world that was consuming him.

He couldn't change who he was.

He couldn't marry his niece, at least in the light of social morality.

But he could become the father of her child because she hadn't taken the pill.

This news thrilled him so much that for a moment he forgot that his own father was dead.

And the complications that came with it.

Looking at his body in the morgue, he thought that perhaps a good thing had happened: Viserys looked sick and tired, his face expressing relief.

He was with his first wife now, the one he really loved, he thought with regret, and felt a squeeze in his heart, seeing his niece's face in his mind then, as she laid beneath him, panting loudly, seared, warm and wet only for him.

He grunted, shifting from foot to foot, recognising that he shouldn't be thinking about it right now.

Only Rhaenyra, Helaena and his mother wept over his body.

Neither he nor Aegon shed a single tear.

The next day he felt excited like a small child and terrified at the same time: it was the first time he was to see the University from the inside, to talk to the professor and on top of that, to see her, again.

If it worked out, they would study together.

Perhaps they would even go on excavations, just like when they were children.

Maybe there was some part of their lives that they could get back.

He texted her that he would come and was relieved when he spotted her silhouette waiting for him in the car park. As soon as he stepped out of the car he felt uncertainty and fear, wondering if this was a good idea.

What if his grandfather found out?

If he was putting her and himself in danger?

He involuntarily reached into the pocket of his jacket, wanting to soothe himself with a cigarette.

"There's no smoking allowed on University premises." She said, furrowing her brow, making his hand drop in a gesture of helplessness and impatience.

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Yes. Let's go. We'll find my professor in the teachers' common room, he's just having a break between lectures." She sighed, ignoring his tone and demeanour, moving ahead.

He had to admit that the whole campus impressed him: the lawns and the huge park around which the gigantic nineteenth-century brick building towered were full of students sitting on the grass, reading books and talking to each other.

They had no worries except their exams, he thought regretfully, concluding that they didn't even know how lucky they were.

The conversation with the professor was overwhelming for him: he had never been able to find himself talking to strangers, even less so when he couldn't leave or defend himself when he heard a difficult question.

The man sitting in front of him was not a man transporting cocaine by ship, but an old man with big glasses who was telling him that if he were able to participate in the excavations, part-time studies would be possible for him.

"Well, if that's the case, then please prepare yourself for the exams. Then we'll see what comes of it." Said the professor and stood up, nodding, letting them know that their meeting was over.

"Is that it?" He asked in disbelief, looking at her with big eyes, wondering if it was a joke, but she only smiled.

"Yes." She replied. "Thank you, Professor."

As they left, he felt discomfort at the thought that he didn't know how to act. He guessed that he had interrupted her class and should leave, but that meant there was no telling when he would see her again.

He wanted to simply spend some time with her, but he didn't know how.

"If you'd like, I'll wait and drive you home." He said offhandedly, glancing at the poster hanging on the wall right next to him, hiding his hands in his trousers so she wouldn't see them tremble.

She blinked and looked at him, surprised.

"No need. Mum will pick me up." She muttered quietly, as if embarrassed. He felt an unpleasant sting of disappointment at her words and in a subconscious reflex he wanted to hurt her because of it, if only a little, to be sure she felt what he felt.

"They pick you up and drop you off like a little girl?" He asked with a sneer, glancing at her, but the smirk disappeared from his face when he noticed the way she looked at him.

She was angry and bored.

"Ever since someone put a rape pill into my drink, yes." She said coldly, and he froze, thinking he was an awful person.

How could he forget about it, say something so ill-considered after what had happened to her?

He suddenly realised how it worked in his mind, how he reacted involuntarily to pain wanting to automatically cause it to another person, even if they didn't deserve it.

This thought terrified him.

Some part of him wanted to make it up to her, to prove that there was a part of him that wanted to change.

"Do you know who did this? I can take care of it. For your comfort." He asked, feigning indifference, involuntarily scratching his chin, unable to look her in the face.

"Larys Strong."

He looked at her, furrowing his brow.

"What?"

"I already told you. He was telling me about my father."

"But it wasn't him who put it into your drink, it was one of his people, right?"

"He asked me if I wanted a drink. I said no. Then he ordered water for me. I took a few sips from it and struggled to get to the bathroom."

He looked at her, feeling how slowly a picture that seemed to him to be just scattered shards suddenly came together, the fact that Larys had dragged her there was never supposed to be an accident, and his grandfather knew about it.

This is the last time you interfere in their affairs.

They hoped she'd call for Daemon.

That, knowing his explosive nature, there would be a shootout in which they would kill her step-father before Viserys died, so that he and his half-sister's businesses could then be easily taken over.

"Son of a bitch." He hissed out, feeling that he was breathing heavily through his mouth, that his hands were clenched into fists, that his heart was pounding like mad.

Only after a moment did he realise that his niece was looking at him with big eyes, horrified that what was happening in his mind had not escaped her attention.

"Don't interfere. Go home." She said, making him feel a squeeze in his heart for some reason.

"And when are you going to teach me?" He mouthed, realising only after a moment that he sounded like a little boy. She shook her head, as if she didn't understand what he was saying.

"What?"

"For the exams. I need you to help me. How do I reconcile what I have to do at night with studying if I don't know where to start?"

He watched as she sighed heavily and ran her hand over her face, praying that she would agree, that she would not abandon him, that she would not leave him in the dark room that was his heart.

His little lamp.

Yes, he thought, feeling a pleasant, gentle warmth in his chest.

That's what she was to him.

"Okay. Okay, I'll help you. I'll pass you the study books somehow." She decided at last, distraught and tired, making him swallow loudly with relief as he looked down at her.

He wanted to touch her.

He wanted to embrace her, to kiss her, but it seemed inappropriate.

Not after what he'd done to her.

"Can I touch your hand?" He asked in a trembling voice, feeling like an idiot, a weak, quivering child begging for a moment's attention, a moment's tenderness.

She looked at him in a way from which his throat tightened with affection, her hand extended towards him made him grasp it in his own.

He watched, breathing hard, elated as his fingers entwined with hers in a pleasant, soft embrace, her skin warm, smooth and soft, exactly as he remembered it.

He felt both moved and aroused at the same time by this sight, by the feeling of her bare body in a way that was not purely sexual, yet so intimate, private, reserved only for someone close to her.

"Walk me out." He whispered.

To his delight, she didn't let go of his hand until they reached his car. He couldn't find the words to say goodbye or thank her for what she'd done, feeling only shame, so he just got in the car and drove away.

He knew it was wrong.

He knew it was wrong and he couldn't stop.

The forbidden fruit tempts most, he remembered her words and swallowed hard, driving ahead in silence, wondering if that was indeed all this was about.

The thought that maybe not terrified him, because it meant that there would be no moment in his life when he could let her go, allowing her to live at last.

It meant that he would devour her, choke her in his own darkness.

The next day, everyone was nervous: the meeting with the notary was going to be groundbreaking. Otto was certain that Viserys had divided his wealth equally between each of his children, which would mean that Rhaenyra's share would also belong to Daemon.

"I don't think he would leave his daughter the brothels or the clubs where the crimes took place to avoid burdening her. This means that a real estate company and our money laundering business could fall to her. We will have to make steps to take it over, peacefully or not." Said his grandfather when he spotted him standing by his car alone having a cigarette.

He nodded, feeling discomfort and uncertainty, not knowing what he should answer.

"You are not yourself since the death of your father. What's happening to you?" Otto asked, looking at him with a raised eyebrow, making him press his lips together in displeasure.

Another fucking interrogation?

"I'm tired." He said coldly, taking a drag on his cigarette impatiently, looking at his family home, wondering if his father would take it away from his mother.

"Where were you the night he died? When Aegon woke up, you were not in the room."

He froze in mid-motion, letting out a loud puff of smoke through his nose, feeling his lower lip begin to tremble, his heart and stomach clenched in fear.

He couldn't remember if he had ever felt peace.

Maybe then, that night, when he felt the warmth of her body and fell asleep beside her, drunk and happy, he thought with regret.

"With my niece."

Otto laughed low, shaking his head.

"This is no time for jokes, Aemond. I don't want you to hide anything from me." He said slowly and calmly, as if trying to explain something to a small child.

He looked at him in a way from which his grandfather's expression changed, twisting in a grimace of shock and disbelief.

"Good God. What did you do to her?" He mouthed.

He grinned involuntarily at his question in a way from which Otto swallowed hard and clenched his eyes.

"Have you completely lost your mind? What has that poor girl done to you, hm? What if she tells her parents, accuses you in front of everyone? For God's sake, you're her uncle." He hissed quietly, stepping close to him and looking around, as if he wanted to make sure no one could hear him.

For some reason his dismay, his disgust, his disappointment gave him satisfaction.

The fact that he was arousing such feelings in him and other people seemed to him the most natural state he knew.

"We were just talking. About the past and the future." He lied, knowing that his grandfather didn't believe him, that he'd seen in his gaze what he'd done to her, what he'd done to her twice, and how fucking pleasurable it had been for him.

He decided that he wouldn't try to explain to him that she had peaked with him each time.

He wouldn't believe him anyway.

"We'll talk later." He hissed as his mother, Helaena and Aegon came out of their house, saying they were ready.

When they arrived Daemon and Rhaenyra were already waiting for them inside in a large, spacious office with windows overlooking the great city skyline. The notary greeted them, offered them coffee and tea, and then showed them to their seats.

He tried not to look at Daemon, feeling his gaze on him, knowing what he thought of him and that he had every right to do so.

He felt bad about it, but fuck, he wanted to be close to her and have a family with her.

He wanted to be able to love her.

Just her, just this one time in his life.

Was he asking for so much?

The notary, in the presence of the lawyers of both parties, unsealed the envelope in which was secured his father's last will, which he knew he had consulted with his grandfather.

Nevertheless, he felt anxious, felt the cold sweat on his back, a complete, tense silence all around them.

And then he began to read.

"I, Viserys Targaryen, present my last will as follows. I bequeath our family home to my wife, Alicent Targaryen, which will belong to her until her death, and then pass according to her will to one of our children. I bequeath all my other estates and properties to my children Aegon, Aemond, Helaena and Daeron to be shared equally between them. All of my investments and all premises under my business that I owned I pass to my daughter, Rhaenyra."

He stared at him dully, feeling as if he had gone completely deaf, his heart beginning to pound like mad as his hand clenched into a fist, his grandfather beside him twisting in his chair, shocked.

"This is some kind of misunderstanding." Otto said, on the other side Daemon laughed out loud, hiding his face with his hands.

He mocked them, he thought.

His father had mocked them for the last time.

He didn't understand why he felt tears burning under his eyelids, why his lips were trembling, why he expected anything else.

His appreciation, his trust, a gesture that would indicate that he understood what he was doing to ensure the well-being of their family.

Did he really think that he was taking money out of people by force, that he was cutting their faces to please his grandfather?

Yet it meant nothing.

Everything he did, everything he became apparently only made his father disgusted.

Because he was disgusting.

They all were.

"Unbelievable. We're not going to leave it like that. I'm sure this is Daemon's doing. FUCK!" Growled his grandfather, sitting in the passenger seat beside him, slapping his palms against the dashboard of his car.

He drove ahead, feeling a complete emptiness, feeling neither disappointment nor anger, wondering if he should pull over and hit one of the trees.

He wanted his father to see him as a cold, unbreakable man, one who would always defend his and his family's interests, one who could make sacrifices.

And he didn't even notice it.

All the wicked things he did turned out to be worthless.

He destroyed himself for nothing.

He had nothing.

In his mind, in his heart, in his wallet.

A fucking property by the sea.

"We will attack their family. If our clients find out, no one in the industry will care about us. We have to show strength, we have to act." Otto said, and he swallowed hard, feeling the cold sweat on his back.

We will attack their family.

We have to act.

His grandfather called a meeting in his office, which was to be attended by him, his brother and his mother. He paced around the room gesticulating, speaking quickly, Aegon as well as his mother sat in their seats flooded with tears.

He thought they looked pathetic.

"We need to give him a warning. Force him to come out with another, more acceptable offer for us." Said Otto, circling the room with his hands placed on his hips, analysing everything.

"You saw him. He laughed. He knows that he won." Mumbled Aegon, all swollen from crying.

Otto stopped and pressed his lips together.

"Leave me and Aemond alone." He said finally, making him freeze, his heart pounding like crazy.

Some premonition told him what he would want from him even before it left his mouth.

He was not mistaken, and as soon as his mother and brother left, his grandfather began to speak.

"Does Rhaenyra's daughter trust you?"

He stared dully ahead, answering him with a protracted, uncomfortable silence, feeling like throwing up for some reason.

"Aemond."

"No."

"No, what?"

"Don't drag her into this."

His grandfather pressed his lips together, leaning over him, resting his hands on his armrests.

"She's been dragged into this for a long time. If we don't take our chances, someone else will." He said calmly, making him feel an unpleasant sting in his heart.

"You knew."

"What?"

"That Larys had plans for her."

"I knew that he would act. Daemon's presence on the scene isn't to his liking."

"He put a fucking rape pill into her drink." He said coldly, clenching his hands into fists.

"It wasn't about rape there, at least that's my opinion. However, now, if he sends his people to her University, I cannot vouch for what will happen to her. With us she will be safe. We would lock her in a room in our house for a few days and treat her with respect as if she were our guest. My issue is with Daemon and Rhaenyra, not with her. Her harm is not my desire."

He looked at him, feeling a void in his mind, no longer knowing for himself what he thought of this, what was right and what was not.

"Are you going to let everything you've worked so hard for be taken away from you? For this man to laugh in our faces? What are we to use to maintain the estates your father left you? Even if we sell some of it, how many years will it last? We have to think about our future. I trust you to do the right thing."

He pressed his lips together, swallowing hard, thinking with disbelief that if he didn't, the part of himself that he had lost, that he had killed to become who he was, would turn out to be a sacrifice in vain.

Some part of him naively wanted to believe that she would understand.

"Only me and Helaena will have access to her room. I will be by her side the entire time, and my duties for that period will be taken over by someone else."

Otto smiled in a way from which he felt discomfort in his stomach and nodded, patting him on the shoulder.

"That's my boy."

He looked at his phone, at the message he'd sent her while sitting in his car two streets from her house, wondering how he could be doing this to her.

She wanted to help him change, she made an attempt.

Perhaps she was pregnant.

Hundreds of feelings mixed in his head, fear, grief, disgust, sadness, hatred and despair devoured him from the inside, forming one black mass from his thoughts.

She's not coming, he thought with a strange calmness.

She was not naive.

Daemon had certainly warned her not to trust them.

He'll return home and tell his grandfather that it just didn't work out.

But what will happen to them then?

They will have nothing to buy new goods with, or they will buy them, but they will have to raise their prices.

They will stop being competitive in the business.

They will lose customers.

They will go out of the game.

They will cease to count.

They will have no way to pay the police.

They will go to prison.

He shuddered, hearing rustling and someone's footsteps, his eyes big when he saw her breathless, flushed figure, her dark, loose hair in disarray.

She looked so beautiful.

He opened the door, unable to believe that she'd run away for him, just for him, watching as she pulled her backpack down quickly and handed it to him.

"Take this and get out of here." She muttered, but he only looked at her lips, parted in accelerated breath, soft and full.

He thought with horror that he wanted to feel her.

He wanted to be reassured.

He wanted to make love to her.

"– come here –"

"– I have to –"

"– come –"

"– I –"

"– it won't take long –"

Her gaze full of warmth, affection and trust, her parted lips, her hand that allowed him to pull her closer made him feel like his cock would explode with desire.

"– good girl – such a good girl –" He praised her when she sat on his lap at last, closing the door behind her. He slided his hands to his belt, panting hard, releasing his fat, long erection, leaking with desire at the mere sight of her.

He could only watch in disbelief as she took off her shorts, wordlessly allowing her to guide the thick, glistening head of his manhood against her slit, all pulsing with heat, slowly sinking it into her body.

He gasped at the ease with which she welcomed him into her warm, moist interior, how simple and proper it seemed.

It made him forget for a moment who he was and what he was supposed to do.

All that mattered was her, her face, her eyes, her forehead pressed against his, her warm buttocks under his fingers, her swollen, sweet lips, her slick tongue invading between his teeth, her little cunt that convulsed around his throbbing cock in ecstasy.

"– fuck – fuck, baby –" He muttered, unable to express otherwise how good she made him feel, why his hips were pounding into her so fast and so greedily, why he couldn't slow down, why he wanted it so desperately.

"– ah – G-God –" She mumbled, making him gasp, pleasant, tickling warmth in his lower abdomen.

Her soaked pussy squeezed and sucked him inside, making him pant loudly into her puffy lips, feeling his whole body grow hot, in some subconscious, natural reflex returning to where he felt good, where he felt safe: back deep, deep inside her.

He knew it wasn't just about sex: there was too much tenderness in in their movements, the touch of their hands too thoughtful and too gentle, too soft, their embrace too close, too intimate, their moans too helpless, too vulnerable.

"– Aemond –" She mewled into his throat on the brink of orgasm, bringing her clenching, moist, fleshy walls to the point where he felt a squeeze in his testicles, indicating that he was close too.

"– do you hear it? – do you hear how well you take me? – only you – fuck –" He gasped, listening to what he was doing to her, to his own niece, how loudly her sweet, little cunt clicked as he rooted into her again and again, how perfect she squeezed his cock, how warm she was, how wet she was, for him, only for him.

"– where? –" He muttered, wanting to be more responsible this time, slamming into her with a quick, sharp, deep thrusts of his hips, helplessly chasing his own fulfillment that he so desperately needed.

He didn't want to hurt her.

Never.

"– here – right here, uncle –" She breathed out and something in her words, in the way she said them made his body quiver as he reached his peak inside her, panting hard along with her. He gasped, resting his head against the backrest, trying to be quiet, feeling their bodies pulsate and shiver against each other.

He snuggled her face to his neck, feeling a wonderful pleasure and relief as his warm seed filled her insides at last, her scent, her closeness, her hot, pulsing interior calming him.

It felt so good.

So right.

"– I think I'm in love with you –" He whispered in a trembling voice, stroking her bare buttock with one hand, sliding the other between the seat and the gearbox, feeling the needle syringe under his fingers, from which he slipped the cap.

I'm sorry.

He heard her draw in a loud breath at his words, but he didn't let her answer.

He was afraid he would change his mind then.

"– forgive me –" He mumbled in trembling voice, heartbroken, her body tensed all over as he jabbed the needle into her neck and let the sleeping drug spread through her insides.

She whined quietly, terrified and surprised, reminding him of a small, innocent animal. He embraced her, feeling the remedy take effect after a moment, and her body relaxed in his embrace, a faint, weak cry escaping from her lips.

I'm sorry.

"– shhh – shhh, sweet girl –" He hushed her tenderly, feeling his whole body tremble as tears of shame, disgust and regret ran down his cheeks along with the knowledge of what he had just done to her, his soft manhood still pulsing deep inside her.

He used her because she trusted him, because she wanted to help him, because she really cared about him.

He sobbed quietly, closing his eyes, and cuddled his face against her neck, feeling her fall asleep, thinking that he wanted to take it back, that it was a mistake, a mistake, a mistake, that he just wanted her to forgive him.

Maybe he could carry her home?

Leave her at the gate and run away?

But what if someone found her unconscious, what if she fell ill from the cold, what if someone abused her in his absence, hurt her?

He realised that there was no way back.

Despite this realisation, he treated her body with gentleness and tenderness: he lifted her and slid out of her slowly, placing her shorts over her hips, laying her on the seat beside him, fastening her seatbelt. He took the unruly strands of hair from her face with his trembling hand, looking at her through tears, whooping with his own cry.

He thought she would never forgive him for this.

When he got home he went inside through the back door, carrying her in his arms, cradling her to his chest. He told his bodyguards that no one was to disturb him, ordering them to inform his grandfather that everything was sorted out.

"Aemond?" He heard his mother's voice behind him and stopped in half-step, looking at her over his shoulder with big eyes.

His mother was looking at him with her mouth open, disbelief and horror in her gaze.

"– Aemond – what is she doing here? –" She muttered, placing her hand on her chest, trying to calm herself down, breathing loudly as if she were going into some kind of panic attack.

"– we'll sort it out, Mum – don't worry –" He whispered. His mother furrowed her brow and shook her head.

"– you kidnapped an innocent child –" She said with regret and pain from which he felt a squeeze in his throat.

She was disgusted with him.

He understood her.

He longed for her to think of him like that.

He desired to suffer.

"– yes –"

He took her to the room where he had spent his entire youth until he moved into his flat and laid her gently on his bed, sitting down beside her, covering her carefully with the duvet. His hand rose slowly and hesitantly to finally stroke her soft hair, her face calm, immersed in deep sleep.

Vhagar, whom he had taken with him from his place, rose from the floor and ran up to them, sniffing him and the newcomer he had laid in his bed.

"– good girl – you will watch over her with me now, hm? –" He asked, stroking her soft fur.

Vhagar squealed, shifting from paw to paw beside him, concerned, as if she sensed that her sleeping state was not natural, something in her scent, in the drug he had given her made his dog restless.

Even she knew what he had done to her, he thought with regret.

He pulled off his shoes and placed them on the ground, laying down beside his niece, putting his arm around her. He pressed his forehead against hers, inhaling deeply her scent, letting his fingers run over the soft skin of her cheek, thinking that he was surely doing this for the last time in his life.

He felt a sting in his heart at that thought, his eyebrows arched in pain as he pressed her body against his, weaving his hand into her hair, burying her head in his neck, trying to calm himself.

"– I will always watch over you –"

In the morning he was awakened by her babbling: she was mumbling something under her breath, her hand clenched on the material of his black Tshirt, he could feel her trying to stand.

"– shhh – lie down – don't get up –" He whispered in a trembling voice, feeling only horror, only despair, only shame.

She would never forgive him for this.

"– where – mghmm –" She muttered, involuntarily falling into his arms again, recognising him and his scent, her fingers closed on his back, snuggling into him in a tender embrace from which he felt his body begin to quiver.

"– easy – easy, little one –" He said, kissing the top of her head again and again, her hair wonderfully soft and smooth under his hand.

"– what's happened? –" She asked, and he remained silent, as he had no idea what to answer her.

His lack of words clearly worried her, for she raised herself on her arm again: she looked around, her gaze hazy, dreamy, her brow furrowed as she did not recognise where she was.

"– Aemond – what's going on? –" She asked wearily, slowly understanding that something was wrong, her breathing louder and heavier, her eyes large and filled with fear.

He lifted himself onto his arm, moving closer to her, his free hand stroking her cheek as he pressed his forehead to her temple.

"– forgive me –" He whispered in a weak, trembling voice, thinking he sounded pathetic.

She sucked in a deep breath and squealed, covering her mouth with her hand as if trying to stop the sound, her eyelids clenched shut as she cried out loud, bursting into tears.

"– oh, baby –" He muttered pleadingly, kissing her red, plump cheek, embracing her tightly despite her hands trying to push him away. "– it will only last a few days, I promise –"

She pulled out of his embrace, moving away to the other end of the bed, looking at him with wide eyes, catching her head with her hands as if she couldn't believe what was happening, her mouth parted wide in a heavy, terrified breath.

"– I – I let you – you touched me, and then you – oh God – oh my God, no no no no no no –" She whimpered hiding her head between her knees, wrapping her arms around herself as if she was trying to create a fortress, and he could only sit and watch, trying to remember that he needed to breathe.

"– we just need to talk to Daemon – I promise no one will hurt you –" He muttered quickly, but it seemed to him that she wasn't listening to him, plunged into complete hysteria.

"– I helped you – I ran away for you – I brought you books just as you asked – so why did you do this to me? –" She mumbled out, choking on her own tears, her fingers clenched on her hair as if she wanted to rip it out.

He felt like he was drowning, like he was sinking deeper and deeper to the depths with every breath.

"– I know – I know, baby, I'm so sorry – but my father left us no choice – fuck, I know you understand me –" He choked out with difficulty, looking at her hopefully, for some reason naively believing that she would find justification in her heart for his horrible act.

She, however, looked at him dully and froze, her trembling hands raised at the level of her cheeks, her lips parted in a half-breath.

He was sure that she was going to say something, that she was going to shout in his face that she hated him, that he was a monster, a nobody, a disgusting creature, everything that he so needed to hear in order to find himself in the state to which he always returned in the end.

She, however, turned her back to him, hugging her body and face to the wall, tucking her legs under her chin and froze so still.

"– Rhaenys? – please – please, say something – I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear –" He mumbled, trying to touch her calf, but she flinched and moved further away from him, as if his touch had burned her.

He burst into sobs, thinking that her silence, her wordless rejection was worse than any word from her, and he was like a child who longed for the parent he had failed to look at him with a sympathetic eye again.

"– please – please, say something –"

But she said nothing.

For the next few days she did not look at him, she did not answer his questions, and when he tried to touch her she moved as far away as possible, hiding her head between her knees.

He took away her phone out of fear that she would try to contact someone and all the things out of his room that she could use to hurt herself or others.

She ate and drank only the things Helaena brought her.

When he tried to feed her, she would snatch things from his hand and throw them at the wall.

On the one hand he felt rage at that moment, a subconscious need to hurt and punish her, and on the other he felt relieved because he wanted to suffer, because he knew he deserved it.

"– you have to eat –" He sighed, looking indifferently at the big stain of soup on the wall and the shards of the broken bowl thinking it was them.

Like the shards that couldn't be put back together again.

"– what did it feel like, cutting their faces? – did you feel like the Mighty Vhagar then? –"

Her voice, cold and harsh surprised him and made his heart stand in his throat, his body stop breathing for a moment, as if expressing its desire to die of shame.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, feeling that he was trembling, and met her gaze, sad, tired, aloof, embittered.

"– I had no choice –"

Lie.

"– you are lying –" She stated dispassionately. "– I don't want to see or hear you – I want you to pretend that you don't exist, just like you did with me for eight years – you're good at it –"

He lowered his gaze, feeling a complete void in his mind at her words, and got out of bed, kneeling on the floor to pick up the pieces of the broken bowl as if nothing had happened.

The only being she touched was Vhagar.

He watched from the sidelines as these two slowly established a relationship with each other. His niece would reach out to her, lying on his bed, and his dog would lean out and sniff her from afar without touching her, looking at her with big eyes.

Vhagar did not like strangers and was fussy, but apparently her calm approach and the fact that she did not impose herself on her made his dog express interest in her. When she would get up to reach for one of his books on the shelf, Vhagar would rise and follow her, keeping an appropriate distance, looking at her curiously.

She would lie down in her place only when his niece sat back down on the bed.

He first saw them lying together when he came home late one evening. He had shopped for her, bought her favourite sweets knowing that she would not eat them anyway, and when he walked into the room he saw her lying with Vhagar on her dog bed.

She was crying and cuddling into her fur as if she was a big teddy bear, and his dog, despite the fact that she usually got up at the sight of him, just looked at him with big eyes, not moving from her place.

Something about the sight broke him, and although he knelt down next to his niece and wanted to touch her back, he stopped mid-motion when he heard his dog growl at him for the first time in his life.

She knew.

Daemon and Rhaenyra's fury was great: the very next morning after it turned out that she had disappeared there had been an incident at one of their clubs, where his sister's husband had stormed in with her son and several men, threatening to shoot everyone present if he did not find out where his daughter was.

As planned, it was relayed to him that their child was safe and that Otto was waiting for contact from him when he had cooled down to discuss everything calmly.

As proof that they were not lying, they gave him her backpack – the same one in which she had brought him books.

Due to what happened, after his father's body was burned, there was only a short funeral ceremony in the cemetery, attended only by his mother and sister: his grandfather was afraid that Daemon's men, who had been watching them all the time, would lead to a shooting if they appeared there even for a moment.

Despite his niece's reluctance, he spent his days in her presence, sitting on the mattress on the other side of the room where he slept at night. He knew she didn't want to feel him next to her, but he preferred not to leave her alone knowing how frightened she was.

He suggested several times that they could go out together for a walk in the garden, but she didn't even look at him.

She was simultaneously closer and further away from him than ever before.

One night he was roused from sleep by someone's scream: he pulled himself up on the mattress, involuntarily reaching for the penknife in his sweatpants and looked around the room, only after a moment noticing her shivering figure sitting on his bed.

He sighed quietly and swallowed hard, trying to calm himself.

"– Rhaenys? – Rhaenys, what happened? –" He whispered, and she twitched at his words, turning towards him, looking at him with big eyes, all drenched in tears.

"– did you have a bad dream? –" He muttered, but she answered nothing, her lips parted in a heavy breath, her fingers clenched on the sheets.

"– hey – hey, baby – it's okay –" He whispered, rising slowly from his seat, tentatively approaching the bed. She raised her shoulders in a defensive gesture and moved away a little, but when he sat down next to her and raised his arm she didn't push him away.

Slowly he placed his hand on her shoulder and stroked her skin reassuringly, with the other cuddling her face into his neck.

"– shhh – easy – easy, little one – no one will hurt you –"

She was silent, and he prayed that this moment, her warm body in his embrace, his nose snuggled into her soft, fragrant hair, would last forever.

"– I'm not sure I want to live anymore –" She mumbled out finally, startling him, his stomach knotted tight in discomfort and horror.

"– no – don't say that – it won't take long – my grandfather is in contact with your mother – they will soon come to an agreement and you will return home –" He said, forcing himself to be calm, stroking her shoulder and back with one hand, the other combing his fingers through her hair, rocking her in his arms like a small child.

"– you broke my heart –"

Her words, the way she said them, what they meant made him gasp aloud, trying not to burst into a sudden sob of despair and grief.

He had broken her.

"– forgive me – I regret this like nothing else in my life, I swear – I will spend my life trying to make it up to you –" He muttered, tentatively kissing her warm temple, her cheekbone, her ear, everything that was familiar to him, beloved to him, his.

"– I love you – I love you in every sense of the word –"

"– I don't believe you –"

He pressed his lips together, swallowing hard, feeling a sort of high-pitched, trembling squeal come from his throat as if he were a little girl, tears one by one began to run down his cheeks to the top of her head, his fingers tightening on her delicate flesh.

"– I understand it – and I don't dare ask for it –" He whispered with difficulty, sinking his face into her soft, warm cheek, feeling that he was not the only one who was crying.

Her body trembled in the embrace of his arms, her small hands clenched on his shirt in a gesture that testified at once to her anger and her suffering from which his heart was breaking.

"– that feeling I had inside me was the only thing that allowed me to breathe – and you took it away from me –" She howled into the skin of his neck, and he burst out sobbing at her words, not knowing how he could react differently to what she had said.

"– I love you – I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much –" He mumbled out in a breaking voice, cuddling her tightly into him, placing loud, wet, hot kisses on her face, her jaw, her neck, her arms, leaving sticky, wet marks on it.

He heard her sigh full of pain and pleasure, feeling with shame that his erection swelled all over and hardened, pulsing painfully under the material of his sweatpants, betraying how much he longed for her, how much he yearned for her.

Her quiet moan surged through the skin of his neck as his broad hand slipped lower, sliding tentatively under the material of her shirt, touching her naked back at last, her bare skin, making them both tremble, breathing heavier and louder.

"– I love you –" He assured her, running his fingertips over the wonderfully smooth skin of her back, making goosebumps appear in the places he ran his fingers over. Her body snuggled into him tighter, allowing him to feel her breasts hidden under her tshirt against his chest.

"– you hurt me –" She sobbed through her tears in a breaking voice, at which his lips clung even harder to her shoulder, his kisses even more greedy and wet as his lips again and again brushed and teased the delicate structure of her skin.

"– no more – I swear – all I want is you –" He breathed out, feeling lust and desire pulsing through every nook and cranny of his body, filling his lower abdomen with a pleasurable, tickling tension from which his heart pounded like mad.

He moaned helplessly when he finally felt her warm, puffy lips brush his neck, her cheeks wet from tears as his hand pressed her closer.

"– please – please, baby, please –" He mumbled out, wanting only to feel her again, without her being just an empty part of an incomplete whole.

However, as his hand tentatively slid from her back to her buttock, she pulled away from him suddenly as if burned, hugging her back to the wall and shook her head.

"– no – no, no, no, you're doing this to me again –" She cried out loudly, looking at him with big, terrified eyes. He shook his head, heartbroken, leaning down, placing quick, warm kisses on her bare knee, stroking her calf with his palm.

"– no, I swear – I want you so badly –"

"– your grandfather told you to do this? – to soften me up so that in case my mother didn't agree he would get shares in her companies through me? –" She blurted out, wrinkling her eyebrows, breathing loudly. He swallowed hard and shook his head again, shocked, understanding how far her lack of trust went and who she now saw him as.

"– no – I was the one who demanded that I could be by your side – that no one but me could bother you – to make sure you were safe –" He muttered, trying to calm his breathing, feeling like his whole face had swollen from tears.

"– I want to go to sleep – I want to go to sleep –" She mumbled out and turned her back to him, hugging herself to the wall again exactly as she did then, the first time, making him whimper, choking on his own tears. He pressed his face against her back, wailing loudly, his fingers clenched on her waist.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry – please, don't reject me – I promise I'll be good now – I'm studying, I'm going to take my exams, I'm going to go to university – please, be there for me – it doesn't matter without you – my life doesn't matter if I can't share it with you –" He whined like an animal into her shirt and heard her weep loudly, but she answered him nothing.

However, she did not push him away or tell him to step back, so he fell asleep cuddled into her body, and the next day she again did not speak to him or look at him as if this conversation had never happened.

In her presence he cried all the time and didn't even hide it anymore.

Looking at her, he saw exactly as if in the reflection of a mirror who he had become and what he had sacrificed.

However, it turned out that his grandfather was partly right in his assumptions: Daemon just wanted to kill them all, but his wife didn't feel like risking her daughter's life for a fortune and was willing to talk to them if they let her see her.

"– tomorrow you will go with us to meet your parents – perhaps we will come to an agreement and you will return home –" He said, swallowing hard, standing over her small figure sitting on the sill of his window, looking out at the setting sun.

Her profile was gentle and pleasant, her eyes surrounded by a fan of dark lashes large and bright, her lips seemed wonderfully soft, full and sweet, made only to be caressed.

She closed her eyes, resting her temple against the glass, and did not even bestow a single glance on him.

He prepared himself for the fact that she would answer him nothing and wanted to sit down on the mattress, going back to reading one of the textbooks she had brought him, but he froze when he heard her voice.

"I'd like to take a bath." She said.

He swallowed hard, looking at her over his shoulder.

"Of course. I'll call Helaena." He replied, wanting to go out into the corridor.

They never left her alone.

For her own safety.

"No." She said and looked at him.

"I want ten minutes alone."

He looked at her, feeling anxiety and doubt in his heart, but he couldn't say no to her.

"Very well. I'll wait by the door."

She nodded and stood up, taking the towel that belonged to her from the chair and went outside. He followed her, walking towards the bathroom next to his room – she looked at him with frustration as he took the key out of the lock and shook his head.

"No. I won't come inside, but I won't let you lock yourself in." He said. She swallowed hard and nodded, and he closed the door behind her.

He leaned against the stair railing, hearing the sound of pouring water, and looked at his watch, sighing heavily.

Ten minutes, no more.

He heard her step into the bath and closed his eyes, thinking that perhaps this was just another ordeal they had to wait through together.

He wanted to believe that she had seen his sadness, shame and remorse, that by his behaviour and calmness he had proved to her that he was capable of being different, for her, only for her.

However, ten minutes passed, then eleven, and she still did not come out of the water.

He didn't want to invade her privacy and make her uncomfortable, but he felt impatient and became concerned that he didn't hear any movement in the room. He walked closer and knocked, sighing heavily.

"– Rhaenys – time's up –" He said matter-of-factly. He pressed his lips together when he heard no sound on the other side and knocked a second time, louder this time.

"– Rhaenys – please –" He sighed, running his hand over his face, deciding that whether she wanted it or not, he had to do it.

"– I'm coming inside – cover yourself –" He said, grabbing the door handle and stepped into the room.

It seemed to him that what he saw before him was some kind of frame from a film, not reality: the snow-white tiles around her head and dark hair, her half-open eyelids and mouth, her hands lying on the edge of the tub, her slit wrists and the crimson water in which she lay, his sister's T-shirt on her body.

He looked down and saw a tiny blade from a bookbinding knife lying on the floor.

For a moment he just stared at it, afraid to move, thinking it wasn't really happening.

"– Rhaenys? –" He muttered, approaching her slowly, but she didn't even flinch, staring ahead as if she was thoughts somewhere far away.

"– Rhaenys, what have you done? –" He mumbled as if he was afraid that if he said the words too loudly they would turn out to be true, and yet it could not be true.

"– God, baby – oh my fucking God –" He whined, pulling her by the shoulders out of the water with a loud splash of red liquid that spilled out.

He sat down on the floor, placing her between his legs, letting her head and back rest against his chest, his fingers tightening on her wrists in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

"– baby, what have you done? – hm? – what have you done? –" He whispered to her ear in a trembling voice, kissing her soft, warm face, feeling the initial shock begin to be replaced by a growing panic and the realisation that this was really happening.

He began to breathe loudly, as he always did when he was terrified and when he needed help calling out to the only person he trusted.

"– MUM! – MUM, HELP ME! –" He shouted like a helpless, broken child and burst into tears, clasping his fingers tighter on her wrists, resting his forehead on her shoulder.

"– oh God, oh God, oh, God, no, no no no, please, baby, please, please, don't leave me –" He whimpered, rocking her in his arms, cradling her to himself, again and again kissing her bare shoulder, her long neck, her sweet cheek.

He heard someone run up the stairs, the screams of his mother and sister at the sight they saw before their eyes made him look at them.

"– Mum –"

Even though he knew his grandfather would be furious, he and his mother called the ambulance. While waiting for the paramedics to arrive, she provisionally bandaged her hands together with Helaena, as well as dressed her in a clean shirt and underwear.

He did not let her out of his arms for a second, and when the ambulance arrived he told his mother that he would go with her.

He looked at her as he sat in the car, feeling his hands were sticky with her blood, thinking it was his fault, his fault, his fault.

She just wanted to run away, she just wanted to go home, but she didn't know how.

He made her do this.

When they arrived at the hospital it turned out that her condition was critical: because of how little she had eaten she had become anaemic and needed a quick blood transfusion.

"– take mine –" He said without thinking, and when the doctor asked him what blood type he had, it turned out that he and she had the same.

He could have done something that mattered.

He could have saved her.

He held her hand, lying on the bed beside him, staring dully at the ceiling, the other clenched again and again on the soft ball as he watched his blood fill the plastic bag.

When the doctor came inside, he asked him about what he had been thinking about for a long time.

"– there's – there's a possibility she's pregnant – and –" He mumbled, not knowing how to put it into words. The man looked at him, surprised.

"– she's definitely not pregnant – the tests didn't show it –" The doctor replied, and he swallowed hard, feeling for some reason a great disappointment and sadness.

If he became the father of her child, he could be a part of her life.

He would have an excuse to talk to her, to see her.

He tightened his fingers around hers, stroking her soft skin with his thumb, trying not to cry, thinking he deserved it.

What child would want to be born into such a world?

When it was all over he informed the doctors who they should contact, giving them his half-sister's phone number. Before he left the room, he handed her back her phone and slipped a letter into her locker, which he wrote hurriedly on a piece of paper with a pen the nurse had lent him.

For his own conscience he waited in the distance, watching as Daemon's Mercedes pulled into the car park, he and Rhaenyra ran inside the building without noticing him. He sighed heavily and licked his lower lip, glancing at his phone, seeing twenty missed calls from his grandfather. He dialled his number and put the phone to his ear, feeling strangely calm and relaxed.

"She's alive?" He heard Otto's voice on the other end.

"Yes." He replied dispassionately.

"Thank God. Why didn't you call for me? You ruined everything. Our doctor would have taken care of it. You…" He continued, but he hung up, not feeling like listening to his smart-ass bullshit.

His mother picked him up from the hospital.

"How is she? Will she survive? Have you contacted Rhaenyra?" She asked quickly as they set off, afraid that anyone would notice them.

He swallowed hard, leaning the back of his head against the backrest, looking at the road with empty eyes.

"I gave her contact details to the hospital staff. They arrived, I saw it with my own eyes. She's safe now." He explained.

His mother breathed out loud, her big brown eyes simultaneously terrified and full of relief.

"You did the right thing, Aemond. No money is worth it. This poor girl." She muttered, shaking her head, trying not to cry and concentrate on driving.

"I destroyed her."

Alicent looked at him, then back at the road, her mouth open slightly in an accelerated breath.

"What do you mean?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line, feeling his brow arch in pain and shame.

"I went to her room the night my father died. We had sex, Mum." He muttered in a breaking voice, covering his face with his hand and burst out crying like a little boy.

His mother sighed loudly, shocked, twisting restlessly in her seat.

"– but – why – did she – did she want this? –" She asked in a trembling voice full of terror, indicating that she really believed he might have raped her.

He was not surprised.

"– yes – but I don't think that makes it look any better –" He mumbled, tightening his fingers on the base of his nose, leaning his head forward.

"– we did it twice – and then a third time before I –" He didn't finish and cried out loudly, making his mother breathe heavily as if she was in the same state as him.

"– oh my God – oh my God, Aemond, what have you done – she's your niece –" She choked out finally.

"– I know, Mum –" He mumbled, running his fingers over his face, thinking he already understood where her desire to end her life and this perpetual sense of unfulfillment and emptiness came from.

"– me too – I'm no saint either –" She muttered finally, looking up at him with big eyes. "– me and Criston –"

He swallowed hard and shook his head, recognising that it wasn't the same.

"– I know, Mum – you won't hear a word of condemnation from me –"

His mother drew a loud breath and wept, as if she felt both relieved and sad at the same time.

"– nor will you hear them from me, son – since you both wanted it, it was simply a mistake of youth – you are both lost and have sought comfort – but it must not happen again – do you understand? – for your sake and hers –" She said with confidence and conviction that this was the best possible decision.

"– I keep thinking about her – since that holiday eight years ago – I've tried, but I can't stop –" He choked out at last, wiping his red cheek, feeling as if he were ten years old again, complaining to her that someone had beaten him up at school.

Alicent ran her hand over her face before placing her palm over his.

"– sometimes – sometimes we have to leave certain things to ourselves – the shameful desires of our hearts – and fulfil them when no one sees – do you understand? –" She asked in a trembling voice, and he nodded.

"– yes –"

"It is not love itself that is sin –" She said finally. "– but what we do with it."

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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 2 years

Text

MASTERMIND- J.B BARNES

Pairing: Boyfriend! Bucky x Virgin! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: you had never been interested in sex, or men for that matter- until you met bucky. now bucky and you had been going strong for months, and there's no one else you’d want to lose your virginity to. now the only challenge was making it seem like you were experienced...

Warnings: SMUT, reader losing her v card, dry humping, teasing, lots of pet names, PRAISE kink, slight playful choking, size kink, breeding kink if u squint real close, aftercare, reader has some anxiety, bucky being a really, really big sweetheart and a charming gentleman. seriously would die for this man.

“so i told you none of it was accidental, and the first night that you saw me, nothing was gonna stop me. i laid the groundwork and then saw a wide smirk on your face, you knew the entire time... you knew that i'm a mastermind and now you're mine.”- mastermind, taylor swift

Tonight was the night.

It was the night that would change your life, the night you would be thinking about each time your head hit the pillow, and when you’d wake up in the morning.

The clock continued to tick slowly, almost mockingly as you waited, fingers twisting themselves into a knot. It was life-changing for you, but the same for anyone else. Everyone else continued with their lives, all in their own little fantasy worlds, with their issues and desires.

It was confusing to think about, to wrap your head around. You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs, just for anyone to hear you, so they could offer their advice, or not care at all.

Hey world! I’m a virgin, but my boyfriend doesn't know that! How do I go all the way with him without making it awkward?

But you kept your mouth shut, as you always did about things that mattered most to you.

You sat and waited, like a patient in the waiting room, desperate to get seen. The door remained shut, the doctor refusing to come out. You knew Bucky wasn't supposed to come to your place until later, but the anticipation was killing you.

It fired a pit in your belly, causing you to feel almost lightheaded as you waited, re-churning old worries and anxieties around in your mind like butter.

You were in university, had been for some time now- but you were still a virgin. It made you feel stupid, even though you knew it didn’t matter. Virginity was a social concept.

It was stupid, and dumb, and anyone could do what they wanted with their body whenever they wanted. Despite this, you still felt bad. Memories of your high school friends giggling and rushing to tell you of their sex lives haunted you, and even though you knew it probably was shit sex, at least they were getting some.

You were surprised Bucky hadn't pushed the matter, regardless of the fact the two of you had been together for a few months now. They were the best few months of your life, and he had never made you feel so safe and comfortable in your own skin.

So why was this so nerve-racking?

He was obviously waiting for you to make the first move, to make sure you felt secure with his intentions. You hung your head low, hands coming up to rub your tired eyes as you sighed in the quiet.

This was stupid. You were being stupid.

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

“This is stupid.” Bucky called from his spot on the couch, banging the remote with his hand as his head slouched back over the couch back.

The internet had gone out for the second time this week, your landlord refusing to call the company no matter how much his residents complained. You watched the Netflix Error screen pop up on the screen again, the loading screen making Bucky's eyes roll along with it.

“Trust me baby, I know.” you said, popping a blueberry in your mouth, its sweetness exploding in your mouth.

“I guess we won't get to see Andrew Garfield's beautiful biceps after all.” Bucy hummed, tossing the remote so it buried itself in the cushions, a chore the two of you would have to complete when he’d want to watch cartoons with you in the morning.

It sounded lame, but the amount of happiness you got from eating sugary cereal and watching old shows you both watched as kids was exhilarating.

Bucky reached his arms out, an indicator he wanted you to curl up in his lap, a silent order you happily obeyed. “I guess not.” you pouted, trotting over to your personal teddy bear, breathing in his calming cedarwood scent.

His skin was warm to the touch, fingers reaching to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear- lingering just a little longer than they needed to. You smiled as you looked up at him, your legs straddled across his lap, arms linked loosely around his neck.

It was a position you often sat in, his need for personal touch consuming every waking hour when the two of you were together. But this time, it felt almost different- in a way.

There was a secret message intertwined into your touches as you rested your head on his shoulder, nose nuzzling the side of his neck as you hummed softly. You breathed him in, utterly consumed by him as his hands found their place at your sides, repeating the same soothing strokes up and down your body.

It was delicate, but you were hungry.

You didn’t know how to approach this, this overwhelming urge you were feeling.

How was this supposed to start?

You didn’t want to outright tell Bucky, because that felt too weird. Too naked and vulnerable for your liking. You had to hint that you had done this, and that you wanted to do this- because you did.

But you were inexperienced. And you knew that Bucky had experience- which made you feel even more stupid if you messed up.

You were frozen, a realization hitting you all at once that you didn’t know how to even begin to approach this. The endless hours of planning this, planning exactly how and when, and who did not compare to the actual moment at hand.

Bucky sensed this, as he always did- picking up on your sudden small movements. A catch of a breath, a fidget of the hands, the continuous tapping of a foot never got past him. “Sweetheart?”

“Hmm?” you poked your head up, meeting his soft gaze as he studied you intensely. “What’s going on inside that pretty little mind of yours hm?” he asked, large hand coming up to cup your cheek as if the thoughts would trickle out into his palm.

You gnawed on your lip, teeth digging into the flesh as you debated.

Hold it off. You will sound like an idiot. Don’t even think about mentioning it.

“M’just thinking.” you smiled, yet it wavered.

“Just thinkin?”

“Just thinkin.” you replied, thankful he didn’t push you further. Instead, he just kissed you- lips soft and inviting against yours, tasting of peppermint. You moaned, body leaning closer to him on instinct, hips rolling against him.

“I’m gonna find out what's on your mind eventually.” he whispered, making you shake your head in response, a coy little smile plastered across your face like a mask.

“Maybe.” you teased, kissing him again to shut him up. It was a little game you liked to play with him- fighting for that sense of dominance, though deep down you knew he always possessed it.

Bucky’s hands roamed, making you shiver with excitement, his hips bucking up in sync with yours as the minutes dragged on. It was hot and heavy, gasping breaths and teeth and tongue.

But this, this was about as far as it had gotten with you two. This teasing, this edging and dry humping until someone spilled in their pants.

But not tonight.

You didn’t think you could leave it at this tonight.

You decided to take a risk, bringing your hand down to rub across the smooth planes of his stomach, brushing your fingers across the bulge in his pants, making him hiss.

“Doll if you keep doing that I dont think I’m gonna be able to control myself.” he growled gently, forcing your eyes to meet his own predatory gaze.

“I don’t want you to.” you breathed, a hint of a whisper that seemed to blend with the heavy pants, the rise and fall of his chest. An eyebrow was raised, hand sliding up to fit perfectly around your neck as if it were a choker.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you pretty angel?” he asked, making you nod.

“Yes but- but I’ve never-”

He stopped. Instantly, his hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing your heated cheeks with such delicately it was as if you were a petal upon a blooming flower.

“Woah, woah lets step back for a second angel. You’ve never… you’ve never been intimate with anyone before?”

You shoke your head.

This was embarrassing. Holy fuck this was embarrassing.

“No I haven't. I know it's embarrassing and totally lame, I understand if you dont want to do anything anymore.” All he could do was shake his head, shushing your words.

“It's not embarrassing at all. It's kinda hot actually, that I’m the lucky one to get you like this. But angel, are you sure you want to do this… with me? You want it to be with me?”

“Yes.”

Because truth be told, you couldn't imagine doing it with anyone else. You wanted to be Bucky, more than anyone else.

“We can stop at anytime, okay? Don’t feel like we have to do this, or it’s too late to say no. You want to stop, we stop- no questions asked. And tell me if I’m doing something you don’t like, please.” he insisted, making you giggle as he kissed your lips gently.

The breath was stolen from your lungs as you were suddenly swept upwards, definitely gravity as Bucky picked you up in his arms. You wrapped your limbs around him tightly like a koala bear, curious as to where he was taking you.

“Where are we going?” you asked expectantly, watching as he made his way to your bedroom- to the layers of blankets the two of you had tangled in so many times before.

Never like this though.

“I’m not allowing your first time to be on some silly couch angel. I’m gonna take care of my girl.” he cooed, laying down upon the sheets, standing over you with a gleam in his eye.

“So now what?” you breathed, scared on how things would play out next. You weren't quite sure what exactly you truly liked yet. You knew you liked when Bucky was gentle with you, when he would whisper sweet praises in your ears and when he would coax you to an orgasm.

But during actual sex? It was a clean, blank slate.

“Can I take these off sweetheart?” he pointed to your sleep shorts, butterflies in your chest fluttering so hard you could hear them faintly in your ears. You nodded, too scared to say anything, too scared to even breathe in case you woke up and this was all a dream.

Bucky's hands were soft as they slid up your thighs, and you lifted your hips slightly to assist him as he slowly tugged them off- savoring the moment as much as you were.

“There we go.” he smiled as he tossed the shorts to the floor, watching you eagerly slide the shirt off your head to reveal yourself to him.

All that was left was a small scrap of fabric covering you, one that was getting wetter and wetter with each passing second Bucky looked at you like that.

Like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. Like he was mesmerized, like he was hungry and only you could satisfy them. You couldn't help but laugh nervously as he took you in.

“S’beautiful. So, so so pretty, such a pretty girl.” he babbled, raising your leg to rest over his shoulder as he peppered kisses to your inner thigh all the way to your ankle. You couldn't help but let your hands slide up to cup your breasts, closing your eyes in pleasure as you toyed with your nipples.

“That's it baby. Do what makes you feel good.” he groaned, rutting himself against the bed frame as he watched you play with yourself in rhythm with his kisses and scrapes of his teeth against your skin.

“I want you Bucky. Please, want you so bad.” you begged, one hand reaching down to run your fingers through the silk strands, getting lost in the ink.

“Yea? You ready sweetheart?”

“Please.” was all you could whisper, watching with delight as he rose to his full height, towering over you as he undressed himself for you. His shirt was tossed with your shorts, lost to the memory as his belt unbuckled.

This was happening. This was really, truly happening.

So many emotions were rushing through you like a freight train, anxiety, excitement, passion. It was overwhelming, but Bucky understood this.

“We can stop at any time. We can stop right now if you want, baby. I know it can be nerve-racking.” he assured, wanting nothing more for you to be comfortable and happy. Your happiness was his. It was something he often told you, and it brought nothing but a warmth that spread through your body. It felt nice to be cared about, to be looked after and cherished.

“I want this.” you murmured, desire laced in your tone as he leaned over you.

“I want this too. I’ve wanted this since the moment I’ve laid on that gorgeous lil body of yours.”

“Pervert.” you teased, his laughter echoing throughout the room before he peppered kisses across your cheeks, causing your to squirm. “You’re such a minx.” he cooed, kissing you once more on the lips before he slid your panties down your thighs, over your thighs and toes before they were also, like everything else- forgotten.

Your breath seemed to get caught in your throat. The gentle pitter-patter of rain that slid down the windows echoed from the end of a tunnel, the candle you had lit a while back seeming to glow just a bit brighter to highlight the wanderlust in Bucky's eyes.

“Please.” was your only confirmation, your form of consent as he entered you slowly. You gasped, muscles tightening as you clawed his biceps. It was an unfamiliar feeling, intrusive as he moaned softly.

“Shh, just relax angel. Good girl.” he praised as you exhaled, wincing slightly at his size as he stretched you out.

He was big. You had known this, but it was different with him actually inside you.

“Do you wanna stop?” he asked, concerned. You shoke your head. “No, no I’m okay. Just feels weird is all.” you whispered, moaning slightly as he filled you even more, bulge appearing from your stomach.

“You're doing so well for me sweetheart, so so well. M’so proud of you darlin.” he cooed, making the fire in your belly flame that much higher.

Bucky stayed inside you, unwilling to move for a few minutes until he knew you were comfortable. Your nails began to declaw from his arm, little crescent moons doting his muscles as your breath filled your lungs easier.

“Can I move?” he hummed and you nodded, the feeling of pain morphing into some form of pleasure as he shifted.

“Oh fuck-” he moaned, his forehead brushing against yours as he rocked his hips, causing your back to arch, chest brushing his.

“Bucky oh god..” you drawled, finally understanding.

So this was what the hype was about. This is what people lived for, people died for, people killed for. This sense of connection, the closeness you reached, the feeling of bliss. The feelings that sparked inside your core that were new, something that made your head spiral. It was like Bucky had you under some spell, like this was some sort of daydream your body felt so tingly.

“You're so wet angel- n’ so tight-” he gasped as he filled you to the hilt again, finding a gentle, easy rhythm that sent you to the heavens. You were mindlessly babbling, no words coming out of your mouth coherent as your eyes rolled.

“I- love-you-mghm.” you moaned with each thrust, your body jolting as the bed rocked from Bucky's movements. His hand pinned yours above your head, a makeshift handcuff as his lips found yours again, silencing your whines.

“I love you so, so much darlin, so good to me. Just let go for me baby, let go.” he whispered, your body following his commands as you felt the coil break, release washing over you as you clamped down on his cock.

“O-Oh god-” you panted, hiccuping on your noises as you struggled to catch your breath. “Good girl. Good, good girl.” Bucky coaxed you, riding you through your orgasm.

You sensed his breath hitch, his noises getting louder with each shift of the bed frame- and you knew he was getting close. “Inside. I’m on the pill.”

“Oh god baby shit shit shit-” he panted, your words turning him on even more than he thought was possible. His grip tightened around your wrists as he came inside you with a growl of your name, possessiveness seeping out of him from the way he kissed and bit along your collarbone.

You felt full and warm, Bucky’s chant of “I love you, I love you oh god I love you” against your skin making you giggle.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” you smiled.

“Thank you for being the most wonderful, most beautiful girlfriend in the history of the universe.” he teased, freeing your hands from his grip so you could run your fingers through his hair once more, cupping the sides of his cheeks as he always did to you.

You winced slightly as he slowly eased out of you, feeling his cum slowly seep from your abused hole. “I know pup m’sorry, I promise you're okay.”

He kissed you not once, not twice but three times as you pried your squinted eyes open, your body slowly relaxing as he stood. You stared up at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan spin as the cool air washed over your hot and sticky skin.

Going over so many things in your mind, relief spilling through each aching muscle. You had lost your virginity- and there was nothing to be scared about. It wasn't so much the actual sex you were worried about- more so the stigma you were worried you'd inflict on yourself. Scared you would do something wrong, or worried Bucky would look at you differently after hearing you had never done it with anyone else.

Of course the thought were irrational, you knew this now looking back on them but they were still valid nonetheless.

Bucky's footsteps snapped you out of your trace, and you now realized you were too deep in thought to even notice him leave the room. A smile was plastered on his face, baby blues seeming to glow brighter than they had all night- if that were even possible.

A damp facecloth was in his hand and you watched as he sat down beside you, bed dipping slightly as he brushed the warm cloth between your inner thighs. “So that happened.” you said, as if you were stating a fact at a business conference.

“So that happened. Are you happy that it happened?” he asked and you laughed, hiding your face behind your hands.

“So happy it happened. I wanted this to happen.” you confessed, snuggling into him as he lay down beside you, capturing you in a soft embrace. He kissed the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you tightly, as if he were scared you would let go.

“You’re a mastermind.” he chuckled, the happiness rushing through you so contagious you wondered if everyone else in New York could feel it.

You hoped they did.

You knew they had other plans, other dates and things to stress about, but you hoped just for one second- they could feel the whisper of your giddiness in the wind. It was the kind of giddiness a child got when they ran downstairs on Christmas, seeing Santa had left them one cookie, but enough crumbs so they’d know he was there.

It was the kind of giddiness you only got when you were with Bucky, in his arms.

“What’s on your mind?” he’d ask again, later that night when the moon was high, sleep threatening to tug you under its waves.

And you’d tell him.

You’d tell him every little thing, about how much you loved him, how much you cared for him- how the feelings you had for him were like no other. And he’d kiss you again, drunk off the taste of you, until your lips were swollen and any worry you had were left far behind.

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