#if you got mommy issues be warned

[shimisushi]

i thought the joke about barbie is for the philosophies of life and thinking was JUST a joke. but bro........i don't think it's a joke anymore......

[tadpal]

crazy to experience tangential fatphobia like yeah my parents are fat. what does that have to do with me??? also yeah of course im going to kill you with nails now like i literally love those people???

[violetrainbow412-blog]

From hate to love… or something like that

Aegon II Targaryen x fem!reader

word count: 15.7k (sorrrryyyy)

warnings: arranged marriage, hate-to-love, mentions of rape, mentions of incest, mentions of suicidal thoughts, drinking alcohol, mommy issues, daddy issues, mentions of sex without love, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), porn with plot (but something cheap, tbh) and I probably forgot something but I think that makes it clear that this shit is not for minors, so MINORS DNI :)

A/N: I started this since the second season premiere started so if you find any canon-like scenes I completely promise it wasn't intentional. I also want to make it clear that you are responsible for what you read and if you don't like something please just let it go, that would be very kind of you!

And this doesn't make me team green at all, I'm a defender of the rightful queen to the death… it's just that her brother is too sexy to ignore 🫦

Enjoy!

taglist (who I thought might be interested): @barcelonaloverf1life @ilovequeen978

FIRST ACT: HATE

Finding a wife for Prince Aegon II was probably one of the most difficult tasks Alicent Hightower had to face.

The engagement with his sister Helaena had been broken after a more tempting offer for the princess, which would get them a permanent alliance with the Lannister house that they couldn’t refuse. Viserys himself had agreed to accept and the queen consort had no choice but to give her little daughter in marriage to a blonde lord. The problem was that her son was left without a fiancée.

Aemond didn't worry her, after all he was growing up quite quickly and she knew that he was more inclined to become a warrior than to fulfill his marital responsibilities. But Aegon, however, was a lost cause.

It was no secret that Alicent had always felt disappointed in her eldest son. He was careless, lazy, and a hopeless alcoholic, qualities that couldn’t be celebrated at all. Now that her beloved father had returned, the queen didn’t hesitate to consult him on the matter, hoping that the man had a solution for the problem that afflicted her, and together they analyzed what was the best option to unite the king's first-born son. Especially after, years ago, Rhaenyra and Daemon got married and moved to Dragonstone indefinitely.

“It must be someone we completely trust, someone who cannot dare to hurt us because they know that their blood is linked to ours.”

The Arryns were loyal to the future queen Rhaenyra and some of the houses south of Vale were too. The Westerlands was the richest section of the Seven Kingdoms and was already secured, so it seemed prudent to the king's hand to go for the next widest section: The Reach. The most formidable options within this area were the Hightower and the Tyrell. Obviously taking the first option would be a waste since the members of that house would support Aegon without complaint due to their kinship, so the decision was made with the direct heir of Highgarden.

King Viserys agreed to the idea without putting up many obstacles, since poppy milk clouded his judgment most of the time and also the affairs of his first son had never interested him much.

The union was sealed as soon as the deal was offered to Lyonel Tyrell, who was extremely happy to be able to assure his family a future with said marriage. It was thus that he gave you, his only daughter, to Prince Aegon II Targaryen.

And the second the boy saw you, he absolutely hated you.

He had come to the idea (very unpleasant, by the way) of marrying his younger sister and now that his mother was forcing him to marry a complete stranger, he couldn't be angrier. In a short time he would turn twenty and it seemed pathetic to him that at that point he would have to offer shows like those before the kingdom. Because the wedding wasn’t simple, of course, but thousands and thousands of guests were present at the banquet that Alicent forced the king to prepare, claiming by saying that he had done the same for Princess Rhaenyra's wedding.

“It is a pleasure to finally see each other, your grace. They have told me a lot about you”

You had said those precise words the first time you had met, when his mother organized a walk so that you could 'get to know each other better', although supervised by her own eyes that were behind you, making sure that her son didn’t commit any indecency. But no matter how sweetly you smiled and spoke them, Aegon could sense that you were lying.

There was hatred in your eyes and a clear resentment towards the life from which you were torn, as if it weren’t an honor to have the opportunity to marry the prince of the seven kingdoms. Your hypocritical words represented an insult to the boy and that is why he decided from the first moment that he would hate you deeply.

With your mere existence you would have deprived him of his freedom, his entertainment, his youth. He would be tied to you for future occasions, he would have to take you to all the events, secure your food, your clothes. share the same roof and pretend to be nice to you in the eyes of others. And, besides, he could have thought of a lot of candidates better than you, physically speaking. Your beauty was quite ordinary for his taste, as if he were looking at any painting; cheap and repetitive.

“I regret to admit that I am not so fortunate, Lady Tyrell. But I am happy for the union of our houses” he lied, in the same way that you had done.

And it was obvious that this didn’t go unnoticed by you, that you had the same critical eye as your recent fiancé but that you sought to maintain composure in the presence of your future mother-in-law.

On the wedding day Aegon had a good time only because he was able to drown himself in monumental quantities of liquor and because he was able to eat as much as he wanted of the exquisite banquet. He didn't even pay a bit of attention to how you looked in the wedding dress that the royal seamstresses had been in charge of making in record time, because when the time came he flattered you superficially and then ignored the matter. The ceremony kiss was the first you shared, and it was so fleeting and awkward that the prince felt disappointed. On the wedding night he was so drunk that he didn't even look at you.

You knew that the unfortunate day would come when you would have to carnally please the young man and the simple thought of being defiled in this way caused you terror and nausea in equal parts.

It was a stranger whom you had married, of whom the only thing you knew was his noble title and name.

In the days following your marriage, unfortunately or fortunately, Aegon didn’t even speak to you. You didn't have to share a room, so it was easier for him to completely ignore you while he went about his ways.

You had to admit that the only good thing about having taken this trip was the beautiful landscapes that King's Landing offered you. Your room had a direct view of Blackwater Bay and you spent several days looking out the window at the beautiful sea. Sometimes you could watch Prince Aemond ride his dragon, and honestly, the size of the beast scared you a little. You hadn't had the chance to observe Aegon in Sunfyre yet but if he was as impressive as Vhagar, then he would be quite a sight.

A week passed, then another and another where you were nothing more than a guest in the palace. You didn't talk to anyone, you ate dinner alone, you barely saw the outside of the castle. Sometimes you went to the Sept, pretending to pray, but really just killing the endless boring hours of the day. You were somewhat lucky if you found Helaena, the most sensible and calm within the royal family, because you had pleasant conversations with her. When you met the queen it was a little more difficult, because she asked you endless questions in which you had to fake the answers. How could you be fulfilling your parenting responsibilities if the capricious prince wouldn't deign to lay a finger on you?

After a month, Alicent seemed to take matters into her own hands and forced her eldest son to take you to sleep in the same room as him. However, Aegon seemed to want to blame you for something you hadn't chosen. He never spoke to you and every time you went to bed, he would stand with his back to you as far away as possible. And as if that weren’t enough, he had explicitly ordered his guards not to allow you to leave the room unless it was in his company. It was his way of punishing you, of getting even for the complaints of his mother and grandfather regarding his lack of interest in marriage.

“My mother wants us to attend a dinner tonight” you were so unaccustomed to hearing his voice addressing you that it took you a second to process what he was telling you “I will talk to the maids to bring you a suitable dress.”

You didn't know what to say. You didn't want to go to that dinner, nor did you want to be with him, or wear one of those tight, annoying dresses. Aegon, noticing your silence, deigned to look at you and in your eyes he could see the aversion you felt for him. It was something difficult to mask and he had seen it on so many faces that it was nothing new.

“As you wish, prince.”

A bitter laugh came from your husband's throat.

“Don't be a hypocrite, for God's sake. I know you hate me as much as I hate you. Save appearances for guests, not in the chambers."

You wouldn’t have had the courage to admit out loud what his majesty had said, but you didn’t dare to contradict him either. You had to play the role of a self-sacrificing and suitable wife for the man if you wanted to keep your honor, but above all your head.

You tried, with all your might, to see some quality in Aegon that you liked so that you could treat him in a better way, which always resulted in something useless. Perhaps if he had been nicer to you, you could have known how to forgive his faults, but even that wasn’t granted to you.

The dinner was mostly family-oriented, with the guest of honor being from House Baratheon whose purpose was to discuss some political matters with the king and queen. Due to his health, Viserys didn’t usually leave his room more than necessary, however, that night the occasion warranted it.

“Lady Tyrell, how is your stay in King's Landing?”

The king had a reputation for being gentle with his guests and was the first person to ask you a personal question, so the smile you showed him was genuine.

“Very pleasant, your grace. The servants treat me as well as possible and I must admit that the views from my room are beautiful. Your dragon is impressive, Prince Aemond, by the way.”

The boy, who wasn't all that expressive, just looked at you for a moment and tilted his head down slightly.

“I'm glad you like it, princess.”

"And my son? How is our Aegon treating you?”

That question was more complicated to answer, since it required expressing a lie. Everyone present focused their attention on you, except your husband who had been staring into nothingness for a long time.

“Very well, my king. He’s a good husband and I am happy to have been able to unite our houses.”

The aforementioned snorted, incredulous at what you were saying at the table, and took a long drink from his glass of wine.

“And I hope very soon you can give us strong and beautiful heirs.”

Although that was intended as a compliment, you felt the weight of that responsibility pressing down on you again.

“I wish the same. It will be an honor to serve the crown and bear the progeny of a house as formidable as yours."

The queen was pleased with your answer and for a moment felt sorry for you. She knew her son well, so deep down she knew that it wasn’t a gift from the gods to be married to him. The rest of the table looked at you curiously, wondering if you were serious, trying to be ironic, or just trying to play the good girl role.

Aegon, as expected, became intoxicated during dinner and when Queen Alicent announced that she was going to retire to sleep you thought it prudent to do the same. Your husband, however, had other wishes.

“Stay here,” he asked, his voice serious.

When he was drunk he looked you up and down, probably evaluating how worth it would be to decide to strip you naked and fuck you once and for all. Your body in the dress you were wearing looked better with a few drinks on him.

“I think it would be best to retire, my husband. This way you can stay with the men to chat and… drink”

“But I want you to stay here to keep me company,” he insisted, holding your wrist tightly “Or don't you want to please your prince?”

It wasn’t a loving request, but one for control. He wanted to have you there only to demonstrate his power over you, without paying attention to you or talking; only as an ornament.

“Aegon, enough,” Alicent interrupted, observing the scene that had begun to unfold. “Daughter, let's go to sleep. “I will accompany you”

“Fine, do whatever you want,” he spat contemptuously, abruptly releasing the wrist that was holding you. There was hatred in his eyes, but also pride.

The queen said goodbye to everyone present and then offered you her hand to take you away from there. You spent most of the way in silence, walking through the long, wide corridors of the fortress followed only by the faithful footsteps of Ser Criston Cole.

“You must be patient with him” he began to say “He is a particular man and sometimes… difficult, but I know that with your docile character you will be able to deal with his temperament.”

What did she know about your character? She didn't know you at all.

“So it shall be, Queen Alicent.”

“I understand what you are going through, dear. We both come from the same lands to endure the difficult task of accompanying a monarch. But it is our duty to carry it out with all the honor and temper worthy of our homes. Of course, I can trust that as a woman you will be able to help him fulfill another of the most important marital commitments, such as having children, to maintain the lineage and blood. For a virgin like you, Aegon may be rough, but... patience and resilience are among the best virtues. A woman in royalty must endure these things to give the best to the people.”

You had never wanted to be a princess. And just when you thought the queen was showing you compassion, you realized that she was only looking out for her interests and those of her family.

"Thanks for the advice. I'll keep it in mind"

She smiled and immediately left a kiss on your forehead, which could have been taken as a maternal kiss but which you didn't like at all. The longer you can postpone suffering, the better. If Aegon didn't even want to look at you, it was perfect.

That night, as soon as you touched the mattress and the silk sheets that decorated it, you began to cry until you fell asleep.

SECOND ACT: CONTROL

Time passed again and although the punishment of not leaving your room was not revoked, you found multiple activities with which to entertain yourself in the prince's absence. You filled your mornings and afternoons with reading, writing, knitting and embroidering. The nights were even more boring because most of the time your husband wasn't there either.

Rumors that you hadn’t yet consummated the marriage had spread through the halls of the palace and soon the smallfolk would murmur too. After all, the people couldn’t entertain themselves with anything more than the gossip and the plays that were going on in the poor neighborhoods, making fun of royal affairs.

You no longer even had the energy to deny those accusations and Aegon had given you the perfect opportunity by throwing you out of his room and refusing to leave the four walls of yours: if you didn't leave there, there was no way anyone would question you. And since you didn't have family inside the Keep, you didn't have any visitors either.

One night, however, your husband surprised you by entering your room. It had been days since you two had seen each other and his staggering around the room warned you that he was drunk again. You often wondered how he resisted drinking so much and the long-term effects it would have on his health, but right now your mind could only focus on the fear of what he might want in that state.

“Good night, dear,” he drawled, sounding as sarcastic as possible.

You were in your nightgown and you were carrying in your hand an old book that you had been reading and that you threw on the nightstand as soon as you saw him approaching you. You didn't have time to say or do anything else when he had already approached you in giant steps to grab you by the back of your neck and start kissing you. He was abrupt, careless, with his mouth smelling of wine and tasting even worse. You wanted to cry from helplessness.

“It's what everyone wants, isn't it?” he murmured, separating himself from you, but still holding you by the hair at the back of your neck. “A marriage arranged in a couple of days to form alliances. And that's it, my life was ruined thanks to my father wanting your stupid castle to expand his domain."

The truth is that couldn't be further from the truth. Viserys’s ambition had never been that, as he had been so little involved in the process that he simply didn’t care who his children were or were not married to. Except for Rhaenyra, of course.

Aegon continued:

"I didn’t want this. I didn't want to marry you, or anyone..."

“And you think I do?” you confronted him.

You were tired of the insult, the humiliation and him ignoring you as if you were worthless; even if that was what a husband did. And the most likely thing was that your words would be forgotten due to alcohol or that they would put an end to the wait for your suffering to begin and Aegon decided to take you once and for all.

“You have nothing to lose, prince,” you continued. “You get drunk as much as you want, you run away from your responsibilities and walk everywhere when I have to stay locked up here all day just because you want me to. I have to endure the suspicious looks of everyone because I still don't have an heir in the womb while you go and fuck your whores."

“I'm the prince and I fuck whoever I want, did you hear me?” he hissed. The grip on your hair had already begun to become painful and a few tears slipped down your cheeks “And I stop fucking whoever I want too. I'm not going to please anyone by getting you pregnant. There they will see if they come and force me to put my cock in you”

“Do you doubt that, your grace?” you exclaimed bitterly “Doubts that will force us to conceive?”

“So that's what you want? Do you want me to do it?”

“I want to go home. That is what I want. But my father used me as a bargaining chip and that's why I can't do anything."

“I'm sorry it was like that. If I had chosen my wife, I would surely have chosen someone prettier and more educated than you, but I can't do much either."

Once again, the man pushed you until your lips joined his and the same discomfort settled in you. He didn't kiss you with love, but with fury and violence to the point that you had to push him away when he bit you so hard that a trickle of blood began to come out of your lower lip. Aegon was also stained by it and with an acidic smile he ran the tip of his tongue all over his mouth to remove any traces.

Looking at you he didn't look happy, but he didn't look angry either. He just seemed fed up.

Everyone knew, or suspected, that the prince was very capable of taking sexual advantage of any woman. He had done it before with maids and prostitutes and had slept peacefully throughout that time. However, there was something about you that encouraged him not to. He didn't even think it was something about you specifically but about the situation, because he wanted to do the opposite of what he was ordered: if everyone ordered him to take you to have an heir, it automatically became an unpleasant act and at the same time that he refused.

He was hurt, not because of you but because of years and years of abuse and neglect. He didn't really know you at all, he only knew what you represented.

You were just the unlucky one who had married him.

"I hate you. I hate that you are my wife and you are not worthy of me even touching you” he snapped with disdain. You were still fighting to keep the tears inside your eyes and his vision had also blurred slightly “I wish I had never met you.”

“The feeling is mutual, your grace,” you expressed, your voice breaking. If it was an offense to the crown, you wouldn't even care anymore and if he killed you right there you wouldn't regret it too much either.

Aegon looked at you one last time before staggering back out the door without another word, closing it behind him with a loud gesture and leaving you alone in the room. The reality that you had escaped, once again, from being raped by the man fell on you like a bucket of cold water and your knees weakened until you fell to the floor.

You were hurt, tired, and defeated by the stress of the situation and the fear that had washed over you the entire time. Luckily he was gone, otherwise you didn't know if you would have endured what he had to do to you. It was better to have him busy in a brothel than to have to endure him in your bed.

You wished you could talk to someone and cry on a loved one’s shoulder, only to realize a second later that that was impossible. Aegon was your new family, now you belonged to the Targaryens and you would have to do as they wished.

Anger completely overwhelmed you to the point where you stood up from your seat and began throwing pieces of glassware all over the room, in a violent outburst at what had just happened and the way you felt. None of the guards outside your door dared to come in to check on you and soon enough you fell back to the ground, exhausted from the effort.

As you cried, perhaps for the umpteenth time since you had been married, you thought about how you would never be able to love Prince Aegon. Not even if you tried.

THIRD ACT: PAIN

After months, the inevitable arrived. The truth was that the first time you felt sorrow and anger, but the following times it became more tolerable. Not because it was better, but because you began to get used to it. Aegon didn't change his attitude towards you one bit. You indeed spent more time together, although that didn’t mean that you got along better or that you had begun to have more sympathy for each other.

The only advantage was that you had started to be friends with some people in the palace. Your sister-in-law, to begin with, as well as some of the maids who were in charge of looking after you, as they turned out to be your only company during those days. Those distractions were more than enough for you, considering the situation you were in, and they kept you sane as time went by.

Almost like a punishment from heaven, it seemed that you weren’t pregnant yet, since your biological processes seemed to continue working to the letter. That meant that, unfortunately, you would have to keep trying; when Aegon was lost enough to forget who you were and you had to stand still as a statue to let him loom over you.

You often liked to imagine what your life would have been like if you had stayed in Highgarden. Nobody knew it yet, but there you had found your first love and although it never went beyond a few kisses, you treasured the memory with particular affection. You had always wanted to marry a sweet man who loved and respected you, who would give you your place as a wife and adore you day and night; someone with whom you could feel protected, cared for, but above all happy. You thought, naively, that that boy you had met and who was nothing more than a commoner could have given you that life, but all those possibilities were nothing more than fantasies in which you tried to lock yourself in to feel less miserable with your unpleasant reality.

One night Helaena had invited you to a modest dinner in her company that you couldn't refuse, since none of your husbands were present and some time with friends could clear your mind. You didn't even know where the prince was, although it was expected that he was spending some time in the town with his friends.

“Sometimes I feel sad about our situation,” said the blonde. You were in the privacy of her chambers, not even with the maids present, so confessions like that were allowed “But I am happy that you are my friend, something that wouldn’t have been possible otherwise.”

“I'm glad to talk to you too,” you smiled sincerely. “You're the best thing I've found around here.”

“My brothers aren't that bad, they're just… well, we've had a hard life. And that's why they behave like that."

“I think there is no justification for being a…” idiot, you wanted to say, but you had to remember that you were in the presence of the princess, “a person who is rude to others. But I guess that happens with royalty, right? They do what they want without consequences”

"I guess so. Kings, princes, the heirs, lords, dukes…”

��Okay, I get it,” you laughed bitterly “It's probably a masculine quality.”

You never thought your sister-in-law would have that kind of humor and to be honest, most of the time she was a comic relief for the situations you two were going through. Sometimes her prophecies scared you, especially the way she phrased them, but you wanted to think that her premonitions would never affect you directly.

When you finally got tired of chatting and the food was finished, you decided to return to your room, so you could have a peaceful night's rest. It was raining outside and thunder echoed in the distance, making the atmosphere slightly gloomy, but at the same time cooling every corner of King's landing.

The novelty of your position was no longer important enough to require you to be escorted by guards twenty-four hours a day, so you were able to slowly walk through all the corridors that led to your sanctuary. It was modest but cute, although not on the level of Aegon’s.

A man was guarding the door and you bowed your head to him to let you pass, which he did without any opposition. Once inside you got rid of your shoes and unbuttoned your corset, not caring that the room was almost in darkness; only the moonlight illuminated from the window. You took a few steps forward and squealed when you discovered that there was another person in the room, sitting at the small table with a drink in his hand. You would have started screaming for help if you hadn't noticed that said intruder had silver hair falling like a curtain over his face.

"Your grace?" you asked cautiously.

It isn’t usual for Aegon to drink in your room, as he preferred other places with more interesting company, and when you didn’t receive an answer you approached slowly. You thought that at best he had simply fallen asleep and at worst he would be dead.

At first his long, wavy hair covered your view of his face, but when he noticed your presence he raised his head and then you could see him. His features became clearer as lightning illuminated him from the outside and for a second you were horrified.

His cheek was red and a trickle of blood was dripping from his nose, however, what surprised you the most was seeing his eyes completely swollen.

“For the seven, I… I'll go call a maester”

“Don't even think about it,” he exclaimed hoarsely, seeing that you were already rushing towards the door.

Your husband didn't sound like his usual angry tone, but rather he seemed... hurt.

You thought for a second about what the appropriate reaction to the situation was. You couldn't leave the room because, in addition to the guards murmuring, it would be impolite to leave him in that state; also, where would you go? If you ignored him, he would probably take it as an insult and he had already made it clear that he didn't want to see someone who could take care of those injuries.

You hated him, it was true, but you weren't an insensitive monster either.

"Who did this to you?"

Aegon was surprised by how soft, even kind, your question sounded and the intoxication gave him some courage to answer.

“My mother and my grandfather. Mostly my mother, my grandfather rather dedicated his efforts to reminding me how useless I am”

You didn't know what to say. You never believed that the queen would be capable of hitting one of her sons like that. You didn't believe it from any mother, actually.

With some trepidation you took one of the chairs and placed it in front of him, expecting him to immediately push you away or ask you to get out of his sight. However, the prince didn't seem to have enough energy to do any of those things.

He had a lost look on his face and tears began to run down his face.

“Nothing… nothing I do pleases her. Neither to her, nor to my grandfather. All the time they are pressuring me, demanding me, yelling at me. Apparently Otto still hopes that my father will name me king, but I've never wanted that. They blame me for drinking all the time and how do they expect them not to? My father cares so little about me and my mother hates me. All his life he has hated me. She does it, my brothers… and so do you. My own wife hates me. Everyone… everyone who knows me does it”

You were silent for a moment.

There were mixed feelings inside you, because you couldn't forget the mistreatment that the man had given you during those months, nor the way he used you for his pleasure. He was right when he said you hated him. However, there was a compassionate part of you, deep down, that felt sorry for the man's state.

“And sometimes I just want to be dead. I just wish all the shit would go away and drowning in alcohol and dying would take away Alicent's problem and allow her to focus her attention on something better”

His gaze lifted and he looked at you with crystallized eyes.

“Maybe you should poison me one day. So your suffering would also end”

“Your highness, I cannot do that”

“But would you like it? Do you hate me enough to wish me dead?”

“Of course not,” you said quickly.

"Liar. You lie like everyone else. You want me dead”

You knew that saying something negative at that moment, in the state he was in, could result in him making some incoherence that you would be blamed for the next morning. So it was best to act cautiously.

“I don't think anyone wants that”

“My mother does. My father, Rhaenyra does it, and so does her stupid new husband…”

“Your grace…” you interrupted him harshly. Listening to him sink into his self-indulgence was too much to bear “You better go to sleep, don't you think? Now you're not thinking clearly, you'll feel better in the morning."

But Aegon seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, oblivious to anything you had to say to him.

“I guess I just wish someone wouldn't completely detest my existence, you know?”

Aegon had done terrible things to you, of course, but seeing him at that moment made you wonder if all of this was the product of poor parenting and psychological abuse that had been perpetuated for twenty long years. You couldn't say your father loved you, not after what he had done, but at least he hadn't constantly hurt you as the man in front of you had. You knew better than anyone that hate had to be healed with empathy and for a brief moment you felt soft for him.

Once Aegon was a small child, without sins, without accumulated hatred, without evil... and apparently that frightened child hadn’t been completely buried, because it was him who cried inconsolably and saw death as a viable alternative to end that suffering. However, there is no redemption without guilt, right? You don't get to heaven without first repenting.

You stayed silent for a long time, listening to him sob, and when you gathered the courage you spoke:

“Prince, can I be honest with you?”

You had spoken in a low and benevolent voice, while you slid from your chair until you were kneeling in front of him. The boy didn't even want to take advantage of that position for a sexual act, he was simply too tired and drained to think. You placed your hands on his knees and seeing that he nodded, you continued:

“You say you wish someone wouldn't hate you, but have you ever made an effort to do so? Or have you even wondered why people feel that way about you?”

“It's something natural for them”

“I didn't feel it,” you said, honestly. You hated the idea of getting married out of obligation, but if he had been different from the beginning maybe your feelings for him would be too “And you made me feel it. With your contempt, your humiliations, your punishments…”

“If everyone thinks you're a monster, what's the point of contradicting them?”

“And then you prefer to agree with them?”

You were probably taking too many liberties with the prince, but you would never have a chance to talk to him like that again. He was vulnerable and therefore less defensive than normal.

“Every person is responsible for their actions,” you continued. “You can't change how the queen or king feels about you, but you can choose to offer something better to others. If it’s your desire that people not hate you, that won’t happen overnight just because you tell it to. It takes time, effort and above all it requires kindness. If you live regretting the concept that people have of you, without doing anything to change it, then you will live a lifetime of dissatisfaction. If you seriously want someone to feel happy about your existence then pursue that goal, don’t expect it to be granted to you as a divine work.”

A deeper cry began to well up from the man and you almost thought he would lean down for your hug. Still, he didn't.

“I don't know how to be someone else. I have always been this”

“Not always, that's for sure. Water that stagnates rots and becomes a swamp. The one that runs, on the other hand, becomes a river and flows into the ocean.”

You raised the handkerchief you always carried and, in an act of kindness that was also intended to be an offering of peace, you gently wiped the tears and dried blood from his face. Aegon squirmed as he had never experienced that kind of care.

“You just have to ask yourself: what do you choose to be?”

For an endless moment he watched you. His judgment was clouded by drunkenness, but he wondered if he wasn't hallucinating and you were simply the voice of his conscience telling him something he had never wanted to accept.

It was easier to blame others for his mistakes, to justify himself by saying that everything about him was his mother's fault and that if he behaved the way he did it was only a defense mechanism. Aegon had never thought about how his treatment of women was a direct consequence of Alicent's upbringing: if his own mother had hurt him, why wouldn't other women do the same to him? And since he was convinced that they were all going to do it, he preferred to turn them into objects that he could use for his benefit.

He was so drunk and so exhausted from all the crying he had shed that he simply pushed your hand away from his face and stood up from the chair, without saying a word. You, now standing, saw him begin to undress and the first thing you thought was that he would seek to heal his sorrows by having sex with you. However, he only got rid of the essentials and then lay on his stomach on the bed. Without any choice, you took off your clothes for the day, put on a nightgown and also lay down on the mattress to sleep.

You were sure that the next day Aegon wouldn’t remember anything and you weighed the possibility of the whole story repeating itself, in an endless and painful loop for the two of you. And if you were right, it would be a shame if you had to live like this for the rest of your days.

FOURTH ACT: REDEMPTION

“Do you know where Meryna is?” you asked one of the maids who had come in to change your bedding.

“No, your grace”

“I'm starting to get hungry and she still hasn't brought my breakfast,” you exclaimed sadly.

You had woken up a while ago and had gotten dressed to go for a walk after eating, to see if this would cheer you up a little. It had been a few days since Aegon had opened up in the privacy of your room and after that you had barely seen him, much less spoken to him. You believed that everything was due to a matter of pride or even shame for what you had witnessed and you simply didn’t give it importance, because you knew that eventually he would approach you again. You just had to wait for him to want to do it.

Almost as if by summons, the black-haired girl appeared through the door, looking agitated and embarrassed by the delay. Furthermore, she came empty-handed.

"Princess…"

“Didn't you bring breakfast?” you asked, still sounding cordial but slightly surprised.

“I'm very sorry, it's just that Prince Aegon asked me to bring the food to the royal dining room. He is waiting for you there, he told me to come and get you.”

He hadn’t mentioned requiring your presence for any breakfast and, according to you, there were no guests in the palace to accompany. The two women noticed your dismay and Meryna stood waiting for a response.

“Did he tell you why?”

“No, your grace”

"Good. Then tell him I'll be there in a moment."

You only took a few minutes to change your dress, one more suitable for being in the presence of the prince and in case there was a guest you didn't know about. There were no guards at your door so you were able to walk to the dining room by yourself and were surprised to see that only your husband was at the table. He had an expression that you interpreted as a mix of impatience and nerves.

“Oh, you finally arrived. Sit down. You, bring the princess something to drink,” he ordered a maid. He used to call you that in the presence of guests, but it was rare for him to have that courtesy when alone.

“Are we waiting for someone?”

"No. I just thought you might want to have breakfast together.”

You were already sitting next to him, and for a second you watched him with a frown. Had he hit his head somewhere or why was he acting so strange?

“Do you prefer juice or wine, your highness?

"Juice"

“And bring her some strawberries,” Aegon exclaimed.

There was something about the situation that scared you, because you imagined that he wouldn't be treating you so kindly without wanting something in return. But you were already his wife and he did whatever he wanted with you, what more could he want from you?

You looked him up and down, as if searching for some sign, but he looked completely normal. He was wearing one of those full black robes he was used to, with a golden chain with emeralds decorating the hem of his neck and a belt accentuating his figure. The dark circles in his eyes were pronounced, as always, but the look was not that of someone angry; you would even say that he looked somewhat passive, even sleepy.

While you were thinking about all that, you remembered the last conversation you had had with him. You feared that madness had finally exploded in your husband and the food you were about to eat was poisoned, as he had suggested at the time. Perhaps out of courtesy he was waiting for you to take the first bite and, trying to control the trembling in your hands, you took a portion of the cold cuts on your plate to put it in your mouth. Luckily the food didn't taste different and after seeing that the man ate it with the utmost calmness, you assumed that it didn't contain any poison either.

There was freshly baked bread, jam, some cheeses, the aforementioned cold cuts, a variety of fruits, scrambled eggs with fresh herbs and chives, as well as some stuffed buns for dessert. It was a mini banquet and as you ate it you couldn't help but wonder why this show of kindness was due.

Aegon didn't seem to have any intention of talking and you didn't try to force him, not wanting to either. The atmosphere was one of peace and tranquility, one you had not experienced since your wedding day until now, and it was a very different but strangely pleasant feeling.

It was just a couple sharing breakfast time, but for two people who come from such a broken home it felt like a totally new experience.

You continued in silence until most of the things served were finished, leaving only what wasn’t to your palate's liking or that your body was simply no longer able to ingest.

“Do you need anything else, your majesty?”

“Clear this table, we won't eat anymore,” he said to the maid, nonchalantly pointing to the leftovers you had left. Then he looked at you “Satisfied?”

"I am. Everything was delicious”

“I want us to do the same tomorrow. I will send a maid for you, so get ready soon,” he said decisively.

Then he got up from his chair, stretched a little, and left the room without saying anything else to you.

You didn't see your husband the rest of the day, but the next morning he kept his promise without fail. Although the breakfast menu was different the routine was the same and again it made you wonder what the reason for it was.

The next day he also requested your presence for breakfast and you concluded that he intended to make it a habit. For the rest of the morning you were supposed to dedicate yourself to your activities, but after a week of following that routine Aegon informed you that he had other plans for you.

“I want you to come with me for a walk.”

"To the exterior?"

"Yeah. I have training with Ser Criston but I don't wish to attend, so you will be my excuse. I'll tell him that the princess wanted to go for a walk and that I couldn't let her go alone."

He was telling you that lie almost like a childish prank and you would swear he was about to smile.

“Huh, okay. If you want it, we will”

You were still confused by his actions, because in all the time you had been there it was the first time he treated you decently. You didn't know if he was still drinking in large quantities, but at least when he went to sleep he no longer reeked of liquor in the same way. And all that week he hadn't forced you to have sex with him.

What had motivated the prince to change his way of behaving towards you?

"Do you want to go to the beach? I will order a couple of horses to be saddled for us” he exclaimed when you had already left the dining room.

You couldn't refuse to go to the bay, because in your entire life you had never seen the ocean and your curiosity was greater than any other feeling. Besides, you loved horses, and being with them might even make you feel better.

Aegon did as he told you and soon enough you were in the stable. He had ordered a beautiful white mare for you, with a silver mane the color of your husband's hair and a formidable build.

You approached to pet the animal, carefully, and tensed completely when you felt another body behind yours. Until that moment you hadn't realized how warm your husband was.

“She's pretty, right?”

His voice sounded at your ear level, as he had also reached out to touch Frostfire’s hair.

"She is"

“I guess you know how to ride,” he muttered under his breath and you let out an offended sigh.

“Of course I do. Highgarden is the heart of the chivalry of the seven kingdoms”

After saying that you turned your head just a little and met his gaze, indigo eyes with hints of lilac looking at you carefully. You could feel his breath against yours and at that closeness your cheeks had already turned red involuntarily.

He separated from you and then went to choose his horse, a black thoroughbred with beautiful braids, to get on it and ask the guards to open the door for you. You almost managed to sneak away, but Ser Criston stopped the two of you just before you could do so, claiming that he had a scheduled practice with the prince.

“I'm taking my wife to Blackwater, she hasn't had a chance to visit since her arrival.”

“But your grace, your father…”

“We will continue with training later, Ser Criston,” he said firmly.

“Will you go to Blackwater without an escort?”

“I will”

"That's impossible"

“Don't worry, I don't want to be accompanied. Just rest for now.”

“But you are the prince.”

"Exactly. I am the prince and I want my orders to be respected."

The boy was a smug son of a bitch when he put his mind to it, just like now. The man had no choice but to obey the words and then the two of you were able to leave. You could get there on foot, but Aegon had felt like riding and had wanted an alternative to quickly escape if something went wrong.

You walked along a path that still belonged to the Red Keep grounds, so there was no great danger of being attacked along the way, and you soon reached the bay. It was even more beautiful up close and as soon as you got off the mare you forgot any courtesy towards your husband, as you rushed towards the shore to watch the waves crash. Your pumps and dress were soaked when the water reached your calves, but it didn't bother you too much because you were happy for the reason.

“Have you never been to the ocean?”

“I'm afraid not, your grace. There was never any business that required me to be on the coast of The Reach and I have always lived surrounded by hills and forests. I had seen some rivers, but…”

Before you could continue your story you staggered because of a wave and to avoid falling you tried to hold on to whatever was within reach, which turned out to be the man next to you. He supported you from the elbows with his strong arms.

“Oh, I'm so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he laughed. For the first time in your presence, he had laughed “But we should get away from the shore. I wouldn't want to take you back to the castle all soaked”

You heeded the boy's advice and, still leaning on him, walked towards the sand. The sky was slightly cloudy, so the weather was perfect for walking around without any discomfort.

“I've never visited Highgarden, is it as impressive as rumored?” he asked, as he began to walk in the opposite direction of the Red Keep.

Although you never believed that the prince would be interested in such things, you began to talk to him about your hometown with particular emotion. You told him about his surroundings, about the castle and you also told in greater detail the gardens that once belonged to you and were full of golden roses, as was the emblem of your house.

You were surprised by how attentive the boy was to everything you had to say to him and for the first time since your arrival, you didn't feel like a stranger in your own skin. Talking about your home was like remembering a part of yourself, as if you were showing him your insides through stories of the beautiful hills where you had ridden so many times.

“Everything sounds wonderful,” he concluded. The sea breeze had already ruffled both of your hair and he took advantage of this to brush a strand out of your face “Someday I should go visit it”

“Yes, maybe you would like that” you exclaimed smiling. You had come too far and it was time to walk back, towards where you had left Frostfire and Moonshadow tied up “Your grace, may I ask you a question?”

"Yeah"

You opened your mouth to ask him why he was doing all that and why he had suddenly started showing so much interest in you. You wanted to know the reason for his unexpected kindness and his abstinence from activities that weren’t very pleasant for you. But before you could speak, you took a moment to observe him. His skin looked paler in the light outside and his silver hair waved in the wind, however, what caught your attention the most was the serene expression on his face.

Although you couldn't say that you knew Aegon, the time you had lived together had shown you that his personality was extremely challenging. If you pointed out that he was being nicer to you and questioned him about it, he would most likely revert to his old behavior towards you simply on a whim. So no, you couldn't ask him about anything or you'd ruin the minuscule part of a good relationship you had managed to build.

“I was thinking... Do you think we can one day bring golden roses to the royal gardens? Green and gold are part of your emblem too and that would beautify the place. I could take care of them, if you want.”

“That's a good idea,” he exclaimed happily. You had already turned around to return and you calculated that it must be after noon “I will order them to be brought in as soon as possible, in the hope that the hot weather at King's landing will not ruin them”

“I hope not,” you said, although a little less enthusiastic than before.

You had been lost in thought after the appearance of that question that you did not verbalize and suddenly Aegon feared that he had made some mistake. You walked a few meters in silence, until this state was unbearable for his majesty and he stopped you by holding your shoulders. You were about to ask what had happened when he pulled you against his lips, stealing your breath. It was still a rough kiss, but this time less desperate than before. His hands went down to your waist and held you to his body until there wasn’t even a centimeter of distance left, with your belly touching the heat of his stomach.

“Still no signs that you are pregnant?”

You thought that, perhaps, your answer was in that question and that the only thing the man wanted was to convince you to hurry up the matter of producing an heir.

“I'm sorry to say no. It's very unfortunate."

“We'll have to keep trying,” he said, shrugging his shoulders as if he wanted to downplay the matter “Mother insists on it.”

“Has your mother always been like this to you?”

"What are you talking about?"

“It's just… she seems to have everything under control all the time.”

You couldn't be further from the truth and rather than describing it that way Aegon would have said that she was controlling. She wanted to have things under control, but she couldn't and as an example was the eldest prince himself, whom she had never been able to persuade to behave the way he did.

“Well, she is the queen. I guess that's how she must be” he exclaimed without much encouragement. He was still holding you by the waist and was surprised by how intimate that position was. “But we better get back, they must be wondering where we are”

“Maybe they even think I ran away, taking advantage of the fact that you weren't there to watch me,” you joked.

"Would you do it?"

"Do what?"

“Run away”

You looked at the man, incredulous, because it was stupid to think that if you were planning to run away you would just tell him like that. That was the characteristic of it, that it was surprising and hidden.

“Why would I do, your grace?”

“Maybe because I'm a bad husband,” he said quietly. You weren't understanding the game Aegon was playing and it was driving you crazy.

“I wouldn't dare do it. I have nowhere to go and I know I couldn't even get through the doors without your majesty noticing,” you replied.

The prince didn’t want pragmatic reasons like that, but rather his question was more aimed at whether it was your will to abandon him.

Against all odds a couple of raindrops began to fall and very soon a storm had already brewed over your head. It was useless to run, but you did it anyway and Aegon held your hand to prevent either of you from falling due to a trip. Somewhere along the way you lost one of your pumps and at this you began to laugh and he, infected by your joy, did the same. It amused you greatly to think of the face the queen would make when she saw you enter the castle, with her eldest son soaked from head to toe and your clothing incomplete. But you also laughed from the joy of feeling so alive in that moment. You felt like a girl playing in the rain and despite the coldness of the falling water, you felt a certain warmth traveling from the tips of your fingers to your chest.

Although he was sure that you were an excellent rider, your husband insisted on taking you on his own horse to avoid any accidents and you agreed without complaint. His body sheltered you all the way to the Red Keep and once there, under the roof, he helped you down from the chair with extreme care. You didn't think he was that strong until you felt him grab your waist and place you on the floor effortlessly.

“Ask the maids to prepare a bath for you, or you will catch a cold,” he said, putting on your back a cloak he had found hanging on one of the walls.

There was the hint of a smile on his face and seeing him behave like this towards you made you feel weird. You almost felt like he was trying to be affectionate with you, even though he wasn't quite succeeding.

“You should do the same,” you exclaimed softly.

Motivated by the kind moment you had shared, you reached out to brush away the wet hair that had stuck to his face and he shivered at your touch. It was the first time you touched him that way, out of conviction and with care.

“Your majesty, Lord Hand is looking for you. He says he needs to talk to you urgently."

“My grandfather,” he sighed at you, as if wanting to apologize for the words the guard behind you had just said.

He gave the man Moonshadow's reins and then explained that someone had to go get the horse you had left in the bay, so you assumed your presence there was no longer necessary. You were about to leave when he stopped you, grabbing your arm somewhat roughly and looking at you with a feeling that you couldn't decipher.

“I'll go to your room tonight,” he informed.

You felt a little disappointed by the reality of having to share a bed with him, after so long without having done so, but you were grateful that he was at least warning you.

You nodded your goodbyes and he did the same, forming an unspoken agreement. You thought maybe that was why he had been polite to you, so he could get back under your bed sheets. But there was no point in doing it, he wasn't courting you to win your hand, but you were already his wife and he had made it very clear that he could do with you whatever he wanted.

Still a little confused, you were escorted to your bedroom, where you hoped that a tub with hot water and essences would be enough to appease all those doubts that were growing in you.

FIFTH ACT: LOVE

At some point Aegon would get tired of all this, you were sure. But while that moment arrived, you were thoroughly enjoying all kinds of attention you received from your husband. He kept his promise to bring golden roses for the gardens and although the queen wasn’t very happy, in the end they adorned some of the busiest sections of the place. You took that as an act of good faith, so you thought that maybe the thought of repaying him for some of the decency he was showing you wouldn't kill you.

There wasn’t a single breakfast that you skipped, except when the prince was required for political matters or had to travel. You were too proud to admit that you had begun to genuinely enjoy his company, as you still had some distrust due to how temperamental the man was. It wasn't all sunshine and flowers, as the young man still had some outbursts that made you fear him and reminded you that this was who you were really talking to.

His drinking habits hadn’t changed much, since although he was able to handle it during the first week after that period, it was inevitable that he would go back to his old ways and drink an entire jug of wine in a couple of minutes. With sex it was the same, because he continued to fuck you without signs of care and regularly when he was lost in drink. It amused you to think that perhaps that was the reason why you still didn't carry a child in your womb; that he was too drunk when you tried to be of any use.

However, as your relationship strengthened you could notice slight (you almost swore they were imaginary) changes when having sex. He was no longer as rough towards your body as before and tried to thrust into you a little slower, as if he wanted to lengthen the moment and not just unload into you and sleep like a baby after that. Maybe it was just that the drink made him lethargic, but he had even started seeking your lips in the middle of the act or kissing everything within reach of the skin on your neck. You didn't intend to spend much time analyzing his behavior because for you it already represented a victory that he had stopped hurting you after every time you had sex and, honestly, you didn't want to inquire about it. Once again you thought it was more prudent not to question the prince and simply let him continue behaving that way.

Until one night, things looked different for you.

When you heard your husband open the door, quite late at night, and saw him approach your bed, you knew that the same dynamic of nighttime visits would take place. Aegon, already hard as a rock, would kiss you a few times, undress, order you to undress, and then position on top of you to satisfy himself. Needless to say, under the confidence that being in the dark gave you and your husband's lack of interest, you looked away or concentrated on something else while your martyrdom was carried out. He would finish, lie naked next to you, and then sleep soundly with no memory the next morning of what had happened.

Aegon called your name, just to check that you were awake or otherwise wake you up, and you were surprised to hear that his voice sounded quite normal. He wasn't slurring his words like usual.

"Your grace?" you called back, propping yourself up on your elbows so you could look at him.

He did what was expected and as soon as he was far enough away, he started kissing you. You must have known something was wrong from that first moment, when he grabbed your cheek with his wide hand and offered you the most passionate kiss you had ever had. It is reiterated that Aegon was always somewhat careless in intimacy, but this first contact hadn’t felt as impatient as others, but rather was something more careful and planned.

Only one other man had kissed you like that in your life and although the feeling brewing in your chest must have been pleasant, the truth was that it wasn't. You had endured too much abuse from the white-haired man so your body didn't know how to react otherwise. That's why when he continued kissing you for longer than usual and then laid you down meekly, you couldn't do anything but tense uncomfortably.

You were only in your nightgown so there wasn't much difficulty in sliding the straps to the side, almost exposing your tits. Suddenly Aegon lowered his kisses to your neck, where his stubble scratched your skin. Knowing that he would be busy in that area, you turned your head away to focus your gaze on a tapestry on the wall. However, you got a surprise when you felt the prince move away from you and then a bigger one when he took your face between his fingers, placing his index finger and thumb on each of your cheeks to force you to look at him. At first you thought there was anger in his eyes, but after looking at them for a second more you concluded that the feeling was more like that of someone insulted. And why? you asked yourself. What had you done that had offended the prince?

“Why are you looking away?”

His question had a certain aggressive tone, but, at the same time, he sounded hurt. With that you confirmed that he wasn’t drunk or that, if he was, he had drunk just enough to make him feel slightly dizzy. You couldn't tell the way your eyes looked at him, but Aegon interpreted your expression as one of disdain.

Unbeknownst to you, he had his own whirlwind of feelings inside him, one that was driving him crazy and causing him to look you up and down while still holding you. He’d never been like this on another night, so you were at the mercy of knowing how good or bad that would turn out.

Suddenly he seemed upset, you would even say disgusted, and surprisingly stood up from his position. The cold air hit you where he had been before and you sat on the bed to watch him, completely confused by the way he was behaving.

"What's going on…?"

“You don't want this,” he spoke firmly. It was obvious that you didn't want to and you wondered how he had barely realized it. “Not like that… I… no. Not this way"

His babbling confused you even more and when you saw him walk away with exaggerated steps until he left through the door, you couldn't help but feel totally amazed.

What was the reason for what your husband had just done?

The feeling of being abandoned was more hopeless than having him fuck you would have been, and for a moment you even felt ashamed. Maybe he didn't like you anymore or he would just go and cure his frustration in the bed of a woman you didn't know.

He had watched you very strangely and the whole scene wasn't like him. You even pinched yourself just to check that it wasn't some strange dream, getting a moan of pain in response to your question. You thought that perhaps you were acting impulsively, but barely a minute later you put on a green robe over your nightgown and headed towards the door, still not knowing exactly what you were going to do.

“Where are you going, your grace?” the guard on duty asked, putting his voluptuous body in your way.

“Prince Aegon, do you know where he went?”

“In that direction, your majesty. But I'm afraid I must recommend that you return to your room, it is dangerous to walk around the palace at this time."

“But I wish to see my husband,” you said firmly.

The man let out a sigh and then slid to the side of the hallway, leaving you a clear path. Even so, when you started walking you felt his footsteps following you because he probably wanted to make sure that something didn't happen to you. You walked for a while, but you knew it was useless when all you found were locked doors that you couldn't knock on and that you couldn't open either. If Aegon was in any of those rooms, you wouldn't know it. Defeated, you returned to your room and, as expected, found it empty again.

The next morning there wasn’t a single word about that event, but it was present in your mind throughout the day. You had already lived with him enough to realize that something was bothering him, however, upon noticing that he was less talkative during your usual breakfast, you decided to give him time.

You were about to leave the table when he stopped you, asking you to take your seat again and looking at you seriously.

“I have to travel for a couple of weeks,” he informed you. You were surprised to hear that he almost sounded sad “The king is required on some business and since my father can no longer travel, I will have to do it.”

“I hope the entire journey is favorable and the visit profitable, your grace,” you exclaimed cordially. However, your husband didn’t seem pleased with it.

One of his hands slid to hold yours, with a strength that surprised you. There was urgency in his grip, like he needed to hold on to something.

“Is that all you have to say?”

A couple of wrinkles appeared on your brow, as you clearly weren't understanding what he expected of you. Accompanying him would be reckless and you didn't know if he wanted you to keep him there at King's landing.

During those last months something had changed in the man's face, because those eyes surrounded by purple marks no longer saw you with the same aversion as the first time. And it disheartened Aegon that his attempts to please you were yielding no apparent fruit. He was giving you time, effort, and being kind to you like you had said was necessary, but he still couldn't help but feel that you still considered him a stranger.

He had been patient because he thought that, as time went by, you would begin to seek him out or not shy away from his touch. Aegon cared a lot about the physical, so every time he sneaked into your room he did so with the hope that you would welcome him with open arms and give yourself to him willingly. Countless nights he waited in his own room for you to show up to keep him warm and love him throughout the night. But it never happened and a part of him couldn't blame you either.

However, he was already tired of it. He wanted to make it clear to you that he not only wanted to give, but also receive. But forcing you to do anything would ruin everything; you had to want it.

“Have I said something that offended you, prince?”

“I just thought you would say you were going to miss me”

A laugh echoed in your throat at those words and for a second Aegon felt hurt, like you were mocking you. He was going to let go of your hand and walk away, insulted, but you squeezed his hand harder as a sign that you didn't want him to do that.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh at you. I just didn't think that if I harbored feelings of that kind they would be of interest to your majesty."

“Do you miss me when you don't see me?” he asked now, allowing himself to be vulnerable in front of you “Or are you glad to have me away?”

You didn't know what those direct questions were about, because you didn't expect that a man like him would be plagued by uncertainty about knowing the answers.

“Not at all. I will always be willing to be with you whenever you want.”

“And you want to be with me?” he insisted.

“I think that what I want is not important”

“But I'm trying to make it so. I thought I was making it clear enough,”

He was angry, but not for the reasons you might think. It frustrated him that he was trying hard to improve and that your eyes continued to see him like that first time. Too many people were already observing him like that and he thought that, perhaps, since you were the most recent to do it, you could also be the first in whom he could manage to modify it.

You, however, were still too confused by his signs. Sometimes his attitude didn’t coincide with the intentions he had, since antipathy was often the only emotion with which he allowed himself to express and feel, accustomed to what he received during all his years of life.

All those months of effort were a direct product of the talk you had had with him, of that moment of weakness in which, instead of ignoring him like everyone else did, you had stayed with him. Aegon was aware that the treatment towards you was sometimes inhumane and he couldn’t explain how despite this you had wiped away his tears with such care, expressing nothing more than an act of integrity. Sometimes he even just imposed things on you to see if he could push you to the limit and he was surprised to see that you endured everything with honor and decency. You were good, something he could never be.

He didn't want to hear anything more and then let go of your hand, feeling rejected again.

"Majesty…"

"It's getting late. I have to go feed Sunfyre so he can endure the trip.”

“Will you travel by dragon?”

“How else would a Targaryen do it?” expressed obviously.

You were silent for a moment and then he stood up, ready to fulfill his obligations. In the afternoon he had already left, without emotional goodbyes or anything like that.

You had those weeks alone to reflect on everything that had been happening. You firmly believed that a cruel and evil person would always be that way, even if they hid it, because humans can’t change from one day to the next. Still, you had to allow Aegon the courtesy of admitting that he wasn't being a complete jerk lately.

You tried to think of any unpleasant moments with him during that week and although you found a couple, you realized that they had all been because of minor arguments or simply that one of the two of you had woken up in a bad mood. The hatred for the boy had been so ingrained in you that now it was difficult to decipher how much of it was due to things that were really happening and how much of it was a resentment carried from the past, at the beginning of that harmful relationship that existed between you.

He was no longer a mean man to you, he just sometimes had those logical slips for anyone who has never been taught to love. He didn't know how to care for you, how to talk to you, or even how to touch you properly. He had always existed alone and could still be seen reflected in his incessant desire for you to be the one to look for him, in his longing to know that you would miss him during his absence and in wanting you to look forward to his return. He wanted you to pay attention to him. He needed it.

One fine afternoon the vision of Sunfyre finally appeared in the bright blue of the sky, with you watching from the huge window of your room. He looked majestic, flying deftly and confidently with the rider above him grinning from ear to ear. Aegon had once confessed to you that he loved to fly on his dragon and he spoke about it with a devotion that completely touched you.

You thought about going to look for him, grateful that he had returned, but you were afraid that your presence would bother him or, in that case, that there would be murmurs about you. You didn't want to seem like a desperate wife so you thought it would be best to look for him at dinner time and in case he wanted to see you before, you stayed in your room all afternoon.

Once night fell, you put on one of your prettiest dresses and went to the royal dining room hoping to find him there, but it was in vain. Luckily one of the cooks had seen him and he told you that he was in his room, since he had ordered that something to eat and drink be brought there.

Determined, you made your way there and took a moment before entering. You hoped that the time away from King's landing had not hardened your lover's character, because it would be a shame to waste what you had built for some time and have to start over, or not do it at all, which would be even worse. Since there were no guards at the door, you were able to push the wood without any hindrance and then you saw it.

Aegon was sitting near the fireplace, his back to the entrance and leaning against a table that had a jug that you assumed was full (or not so full anymore) of wine. When he heard your footsteps he turned slightly and when he saw you, he kept a serene expression on his face.

“Hey,” he exclaimed quietly.

“The maids informed me that you were here” you explained and he nodded.

You noticed that he no longer wore his black doublet with the Targaryen emblem, he only kept the breeches of the same color and a mint-colored linen shirt that left part of his chest exposed. His white hair had some natural curls that fell delicately over her shoulders.

“Yeah. I don't feel like seeing my parents.”

“I understand” you assumed that if he hadn't wanted to see you he wouldn't have hesitated to tell you, so you approached him. Undecided whether you should greet him with a kiss or just stay to the side, you placed your hands on his shoulders and leaned a little to look at him “How was the trip?”

“It was good,” he responded with reluctance. “But my body feels completely crushed”

“Hm. It shows” you whispered, amused. The tension in his body was palpable and that's why you began to massage him, pressing hard just where he needed it. Aegon, feeling your skilled hands doing this, let out a satisfied grunt and leaned his head back with his eyes closed.

Doing that wasn’t something you had planned when you went there, it had only happened out of the heat of the moment and the reality that your husband's body was taking its toll on him for the hours he had spent riding his dragon.

With each passing second Aegon's burden felt lighter and lighter, wondering where you had learned those movements and how your hands were strong enough to exert the right pressure.

"Feel better?" you asked kindly and he nodded immediately, eyes still closed.

Suddenly one of your hands slid lower, towards his chest, to caress him. This time your fingers were light as feathers, sending an electrical current up and down the man's spine under your touch. No whore had ever touched him like that, with that force and at the same time so delicately.

But it was clear that you were not a whore. You were his wife.

“Come here,” he said firmly, reaching out to wrap his hand around your wrist and pulling you directly into his lap.

It was extremely painful to admit that he had missed you. He was physically frustrated because he hadn't dared to take any other woman in your absence. It had been a long time since he had frequented pleasure houses, since his appetite was awakened only by being with you.

What the hell had you done to him?

“The cook told me that you ordered some food, but I only see wine around here. Have you already eaten anything?”

“Mhmm,” he said absently. Your legs dangled to the side and one of his hands came up to your face, brushing your loose hair away from it. The other one surrounded you until it planted itself firmly on your belly. “Still no signs of anything?”

“Honestly, I don't know. The maesters can’t say with certainty… I am sorry”

“What if you are sterile?” the mere possibility of it made you nervous and you wondered what your fate would be if that was the case. Aegon didn't look so worried “What a disappointment for Alicent.”

You didn't know how to take that, because on the one hand it could be that your husband was amused by the irony of the matter and on the other hand it was that he would never have wanted to have children with you. For a moment you thought that the tranquility of the environment had been fragmented by this, but it turned out that the man couldn't care less. He was completely focused on your lips, almost as if hypnotized.

“I trust that is not the case, your grace. Just… it was a streak of bad luck.”

“I guess so,” he murmured nonchalantly. He was still watching your mouth when you spoke “But now I don’t care much about that.”

He carefully grabbed you by the back of your neck and brought you closer to shorten the distance, giving you an eager kiss that took your breath away. The hand that was on your waist pulled you closer to his body, leaving practically no separation between you and him. You could feel the desperation on his lips and in his touch, like he was eager to make you his. And at the same time, he was kissing you like he had never done before: it was sweet, yearning, passionate. You felt like he really wanted you.

He separated from you so you could breathe and, as best he could, he maneuvered to lift your body until he placed you on the table, where it was easier for him to place himself in the space between your legs. You instinctively placed your hands around his neck and wrapped one of your legs around his body.

“I longed for you. These weeks” you finally confessed. You heard him, and felt him, breathe more erratically at this because your words had fallen on him with the force of an axe.

From there, Aegon acted solely driven by the feeling of knowing that you had wanted to see him as much as he had wanted to see you.

His entire body leaned over you to kiss you, with the same urgency as at the beginning. While he did that he grabbed you by the lower back, pulling you until your body collided with his crotch which, if it wasn't already hard, wouldn't take long.

His kisses were clumsy due to urgency and after a while he moved away from your mouth to descend to your neck. Sometimes he left a kiss or two, at most, but this time he seemed to want to take his time. His tongue ran all over your skin, freshly washed, and he spread caresses without restraint. Every place the dragon's lips touched lit up with fire and his hips grinding against you weren't doing much for the blush on your cheeks. Inevitably you began to sigh from so many stimuli, right at the level of his ear, which only motivated him to continue.

As best he could he pulled the laces on the back of your dress and it didn't take long to get rid of the restraints. He slid one of your sleeves over your shoulder to begin kissing that section, the same way he had done with your neck. An indiscreet moan escaped you as your husband bit into your soft flesh and you could feel him smile against your skin.

“You're mine, right?” he sighed brokenly. You had tilted your head back to give him more space and he took the opportunity to lower the entire torso of your dress. “Only mine…”

With the same devotion he took care of your breasts and you couldn't do anything but continue alternating between sighs and some muffled moans. You could feel how he longed for you, eager to be able to kiss every inch of your skin even if it took him the entire night. Suddenly your body had become a temple, an object worthy of worship. The prince continued to distribute kisses that each time descended towards your belly, until with one hand he violently threw everything that was on the table and you ended up lying completely on it. Then he walked away.

You were about to ask what had happened when he took care of taking off your ballerina flats and throwing them somewhere far away in the room, only to stretch your leg up to the height of his torso to start kissing it. No one, not even him, had ever done that to you, so it was natural for you to be dismayed. His kisses moved quickly up your thigh and once he did that, he dropped to his knees in front of you. The skirt of your dress blocked your view and when you tried to get up something made you scream. Aegon had bitten into the tender flesh of your thighs, quite close to your crotch and with more force than he had hit your shoulder. You could only imagine his face when he carefully licked the mark he had surely left on you, once again making your chest exhale a moan.

What he did next and the sensation it caused, you could never have even imagined. That mouth, which most of the time was used for ironic puns and sloppy kisses, was now taking expert care of all of your pussy. Aegon was devouring you completely, touching just where it was necessary to make you squirm on the table. He wasn't careful at all; it was a touch hungry and extremely dirty.

You wanted to hold on as much as you could to keep yourself attached to reality, but it was difficult with your husband eating you like that. One of his arms wrapped around your leg and placed it over his shoulder, probably to give him better access. You had never moaned like that in his presence and it only made him harder and harder beneath the tight fabric of his breeches.

The pleasure was barely getting to your head when he stopped and a dissatisfied grunt escaped you shamelessly. Aegon laughed unabashedly at this, pleased at the control he had gained over you, and then went up again to kiss you hungrily. You couldn't do anything but welcome his salty lips and you moaned against him as he leaned against your body and you could feel his crotch, not knowing if it was your own wetness or his that was present.

He held you from behind and, without stopping kissing you, carried you until he placed you on the bed. You considered it somewhat unfair that your husband already had you trembling beneath him and still hadn't taken off a single piece of clothing, but your complaints were silenced when he hurriedly pulled his shirt over his head and took off his breeches in record time. In the same way, he pulled your dress towards your legs so that a second later it ended up on the floor, along with everything else.

He knelt down on the mattress and spread your legs roughly, lining himself up with your entrance. He began to rub the tip of his member up and down your already wet center and that did nothing but drive you crazy again.

When a delicate, pleading, «please» escaped your swollen lips, Aegon knew it was more stimulating to have you begging for him than to worry about only satisfying himself.

He played with you for a while longer, smiling from ear to ear at the sight of his delicate, pretty wife vibrating from having him close, until he finally plunged into you. For the first time there was enough wetness in you that the stroke felt satisfying rather than painful and both of you let out a delicious moan.

He set the pace, slow at first, but after a while his movements became more desperate. He wanted to get to the core of you, he wanted to fill you completely so you knew that only he could make you feel that way. When his body began to ache he leaned towards you, resting each of his arms on the side of your head and looking directly at you. You had stopped looking away from him, now you were looking at him with your mouth open with pleasure, your eyes watery and your pupils dilated on your completely flushed cheeks.

“Aegon,” you sobbed pathetically, clouded by everything you were experiencing and proving that it wasn't long before you reached your orgasm.

You had never called him by his name. You always referred to him as «your grace», «prince» or «husband», at best. So hearing his name come out of your lips like that, under those circumstances, was too much for him to bear.

Knowing that he couldn't last much longer, one of his hands moved down to rest his thumb on your clit and once there he began to make erratic circles. You closed your eyes, completely seized by pleasure and a couple more thrusts were enough to make you lose the battle. Hearing your whimpers, combined with the way your walls squeezed him, was enough to make him cum too. With trembling legs you felt the warm liquid filling you and, for the first time, it was comforting.

When Aegon plopped down next to you, you immediately missed his body warmth. Both of you were breathing heavily, trying to catch the breath that the orgasm had taken from you. You could clearly feel your heartbeat bouncing off your bare chest and the stinging sensation coming from your crotch and running through your entire body was something you could get used to. Your hair had stuck to your face from the sweat and not to mention your lips, which you felt were burning from your husband's attention.

Aegon had already had many orgasms in his life so this time he decided to turn his gaze a little to see you enjoying yours. The mere idea that he was responsible for your condition made him completely shake.

“You look beautiful,” he blurted out suddenly. You thought he had heard wrong because of the rush, but from the way he was smiling at you, you highly doubted it. “Just like that”

“Like what?”

“Freshly fucked. Well fucked” he corrected himself.

A laugh bubbled up from within you and you blushed even more, if that was possible, perhaps from the nerves and elation of what had just happened. The man stood up a little from his seat and leaned down to kiss you, although this time he did it with a calm and affection that you never thought you would see in him. It was just that he couldn't deny it anymore; from that moment on he would become an open book for you, where you could see all his feelings, desires and fears.

“I don't know why you're doing this,” you suddenly murmured and Aegon pulled away enough to look at you “And I don't know why you've been acting like this these past few months. But I like it. I think it's a good time for you to know."

“You said I could choose who I am,” he said meekly. One of his hands grabbed your chin and stole another fleeting kiss from you. “I haven't forgotten, every word is present in my head. It's just... sometimes it's hard. And I thought I would have a better chance with you, even with the things I did to you when we got married”

You smiled at him and were happy to know that the change in his behavior was because of the talk you once had with him. If he continued like this, ignoring the demons inside him and trying to be better, then your marriage had a chance to become more than just a condemnation.

Driven by the pleasant feeling growing in your chest you reached out towards him to reward him with a kiss. The man's breath hitched when you pushed him to the side and reversed roles, now you being the one pampering him while he was lying down. There was a playful glint in your husband's eyes as you looked at him.

“Do you know this is the first time you kissed me?” he exhaled softly.

You couldn't believe that was possible and for a few seconds you tried to remember so you could contradict him. But every time you remembered you realized that it was always him who initiated the contact to which you only responded, so, effectively, it was the first kiss you gave him out of conviction.

Maybe it was an omen that something good was coming.

Still happy with how everything had turned out, you snuggled into his side, your head resting on his chest while he hugged you and threw a sheet over your bodies. You planted a hand on his bare skin and began drumming your fingers, alternating with small circles made with the greatest delicacy.

You were silent for a long time, you even thought that your husband had fallen asleep until you heard him speak again:

“It's also the first time I'm doing this.”

“Are you talking about sex, your grace?”

“No, I'm talking about cuddling,” he confessed softly, his hand caressing your back the same way you did with him, “And don't call me your majesty anymore. I am Aegon. Or my prince, at any rate. But my is important”

With the affection worthy of a wife, you raised your head to place a kiss on his cheek and assured him that from now on you would call him that in the privacy of your chambers.

Suddenly, after another moment of silence, Aegon pulled you close to him as if afraid you were going to suddenly evaporate. Intending to calm his fears, you climbed until you were on top of his body, hiding your head in his neck so that the distance became minimal.

There was silence for another couple of minutes.

“Do you think I can ever be forgiven?”

Apparently the atmosphere of the moment had managed to soften the boy's heart.

“We can all be absolved, Aegon.”

"And you?"

"Me what?"

“Do you think you can ever love me?” you were quiet for a second, thinking about your response. Then, he added “Or could you at least try? It would be a nice detail for me. No one has ever done it before.”

Not wanting to ruin the mood with a false word you decided to kiss his neck gently and that was enough of an answer for him. He would have to trust in your goodwill and that he could continue to restrain his impulses to keep this newly discovered gem that was his wife. With some luck you could even be that person he prayed for so much all his life, one with whom he could feel safe.

The slowing of the man's breathing revealed to you that he had already fallen asleep and you discovered that it seemed not so bad to find yourself in that position, sheltered by your lover's arms.

Under that scenario, the idea of eventually loving Prince Aegon Targaryen no longer sounded so far-fetched.

[lollixp0p]

The Video (18+)

Pairing: Best friend!Hwang Hyunjin x afab!reader

Genre: Smut (MDNI), bit of feelings

Word count: just under 3k!

Warnings: Idol!au, subby!Hyunjin, slightly perv!reader, recording, (maybe a bit dub con because he doesn't mean to send it but reader watches it anyway), mommy kink, masturbation (both but separately), Hyunjin fantasizes about reader, reader fantasizes about Hyunjin, lmk if I missed anything!!

Summary: Hyunjin finally gets some alone time after weeks of hard work and decides to use his time to... relax. The next day he ends up sending you something on accident that sets off a big change in your lives, with or without either of you really realising.

Note: My first ever fic!! :3 Inspired by a video I saw on phub. (@cbini (Ems isn't on Tumblr rn she still wanted to be tagged so I hope it's ok), @comet-falls, @hyunsvngs, @mnwrld and @skz-hell lmao hello everyone, writing blog reveal!!😁 here's this fic I've mention to all of you as an anon<3 (depending on who you are I'm either ❄️anon, 🐾anon or sounding anon😳)). To anyone reading this please give me literally any feedback (comment, reblog, anything!), I want to know if this is good or not since it's my first fic🙏😣

Please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works!

It's been exactly three weeks since Hyunjin's had any time for just himself, though it feels like months at this point.

Recently everyone's been running around like headless chickens and between vocal trainings, dance practices and the studio, there hasn't been much time to just relax and recharge. Preparing for a new album really is the busiest time of an idols life.

There hasn't even been time to see family or friends, which is common during busy spells like this, but always dissapointing to think about. Now even more so, with how much he's been wishing to spend time with you, one of his closest friends... who also happens to be his crush. Not that he'd ever let you know though, not in a very long time.

It feels almost like a blessing, getting back to the dorms from practice late in the evening and realising... he's got the place all for himself, at least until his roommates get back from the studio.

Changbin had messaged him earlier, telling him that they'd probably be there well past midnight, so there was no use waiting up for them. To him though, this was the very opposite of an issue. With that much free time, he'd definitely be able to... make himself comfortable, so to speak.

See, not having time to relax also means he'd basically had no time to get off. The best he'd been able to do had been quick little sessions barely once a week in the shower right before passing out on his bed from the exhaustion of working hard.

The realisation that he'd be able to do anything he wants during his time alone is enough to get his dick twitching in his jeans and he decides the shower can wait until later.

Hyunjin goes to his room and locks the door after himself even though he's alone, it's just become a habit after so many years living with his members. He sets his bag down next to his bed and thinks through his plan.

Hyunjin has a little secret, which is that he loves recording himself do dirty things that range from more vanilla to much less vanilla. Something about the thrill of being recorded even if no one will ever see it just... makes him so fucking horny.

He opens the camera of his phone, puts it to video mode and presses record. Moving his hand off the lense and setting it down where he normally sets it, on the carefully placed pile of books on his desk, he sits down on his bed.

"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", Hyunjin sighs with a pout and brushes his hair out of his eyes. He knows the camera won't see it though because he's made sure the stand, his pile of books, is at a level that cuts off his head perfectly.

Hyunjins hands run down his body slowly and he exhales deeply, just loud enough to get picked up by his phone. Once they reach his jeans he unbuttons them, unzips the zipper, then pulls the jeans down just enough to expose his underwear. Hyunjin pulls his shirt up over his stomach to be held in place under his chin, rubs his hand over his bulge and hums.

It's been so long since the last time he's been able to take his time making himself feel good. It's almost embarrassing how quickly he's getting hard.

He takes his dick out his boxers and then spits on the palm of his right hand. It's dirty and wet but it just turns him on even more. He grabs his dick with the hand and slowly moves his fist up and down, to spread the saliva and precum all over his dick to make the slide easier and wetter but to also get himself to full hardness.

"A-ah, ohh... that's so good... Feels-fuck, feels so good", Hyunjin sighs. It really won't take him too long to cum, he just knows it. He's been pent up for far too long.

He tries to think of something to help his issue and immediately thinks of you, no matter how embarrassed or dirty it makes him feel.

When you first started showing up in the dirtiest corners of his mind he felt so ashamed. Now it doesn't matter to him anymore. You'll never find out so why feel bad?

He continues to move his hand on his dick while thinking of you. The last time the two of you had time to hang out together you'd worn the lowest cut shirt he'd ever seen on you. He had tried so hard to act normal around you but whenever you bent down he'd been able to see into your shirt.

"Haah, fuck..." , he squeezes himself a little harder at the memory. Everytime you moved he could see your bra poking out from the top, black and lacy. The entire time he'd been doing his best to not bust in his pants. Oh, what he'd give to be able to see your tits. They always looked so soft and they'd probably fit perfectly into his palms.

Whenever the both of you would hang out at yours, watching movies and just hanging out, you never bothered to wear a bra. Why would you? It is your house where you want to be as comfortable as possible.

The feeling of laying down on your couch watching a movie with you on top of him, in just a t-shirt, will end up driving him mad one day. Everytime he'd felt your nipples poking into him he'd almost moaned out loud.

"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!", he lets out pathetically, moving his fist faster. God he just wants you to use him, to do anything you want to him. The thought makes him whine desperately.

One of the most common fantasies for him is you on top of him using him to get off, not caring about if he's close or not. You'd sit on his face and ride it until you cum. He could probably cum untouched like that. All he'd need was tasting you and seeing you cum, just for him.

All the sudden he remembers the phone recording him and he shudders. He imagines what your reaction would be to seeing him like this. Would you be disgusted or delighted? Would you tell him what to do and how to touch himself? Maybe you'd touch him... He hopes you would.

"Mommy... please touch me, aah- oh!", he runs his thumb over the head of his cock just right and his thighs twitch but he keeps them open, in perfect view to the camera.

Throwing his head back he imagines you riding him. You'd be so tight and wet around him. Maybe you'd tie his hands behind his back so he wouldn't be able to touch you... he'd really like that. You'd feel godly around him, Hyunjin thinks.

"Fuck, oh fuck! Mommy I'm-haah, I'm so close, please!", his dick twitches desperately. You're so gorgeous, to him you're the sexiest person he's ever seen. He feels himself getting so close that tears spring to his eyes.

"Ah- 'm gonna... mommy, gonna cum...!", he whines out long and loud. It takes Hyunjin two more strokes to let go and he cums the hardest he's cum in weeks. He doesn't even register whispering your name. Hyunjin leans back on his left hand and keeps stroking himself through it.

The feeling is overwhelming, so much so that his thighs start twitching pathetically and the tears in the corners of his eyes fall. He's getting incredibly overstimulated but he keeps going, wanting to keep enjoying the feeling, just a bit more.

He squeezes himself one last time and suddenly everything on him feels gross and dirty. He's just had the best orgasm in weeks so it's no surprise that he came a lot, everywhere. He even managed to get some on his chin.

"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone. It takes a while for him to come down from the high, the twitchiness and the feeling of euphoria lingering in his body. Once he's capable of standing up again he stops the video.

With his body feeling like jelly, he takes off all his clothes, drops them into his hamper and prepares to shower, at last.

Hyunjin wakes up to his alarm the next day feeling more refreshed than he's felt in weeks. He shuts off the still ringing alarm and quickly gets up from his bed to get dressed and go eat breakfast.

Checking the calendar on his phone to make sure he knows his schedule for today, he makes a note of one thing; he'd have a lot of time alone at the dorms today too, since he's only got a dance practice and a recording session today, which obviously means 3racha will stay behind to stress about their songs while Hyunjin can return early. Maybe this time he should continue the latest piece of art he's been working on after he gets back?

Hyunjin gets through the day well enough.

After eating breakfast he messages you a "Good morning pretty <3 please remember to drink water!" like every morning when he has time for it. He gets to the practice room only five minutes late, which is a record this early in the morning, because usually he ends up sleeping in at least ten minutes (which makes Chan scold him for being such a heavy sleeper).

He does well at practice, even though he ends up a little exhausted. That's nothing new though, with how hard they always work to be the best they can be.

The rest of the members leave to take a break but Hyunjin decides to stay behind to film the solo choreography he's been working on for fun. Once he's happy with how it's turned out, it's time for him to go record his lines.

The recording session goes smoothly, without hundreds of retakes and everyone's satisfied with the result. Afterwards they decide to order some take-out, as a reward for a job well done... and also because they're all feeling too lazy to even think about going to the dorms to cook.

While eating Hyunjin finally realises to check his phone again. "Good morning, take care of yourself too!! :)" is your response to what he sent earlier. It's nothing more than a kind response but it makes him grin to himself like the fool in love he is.

"Yaaah!! Hyunjinnieee, what's making you smile so beautifully?", Changbin leans towards him with his signature flirting-with-Hyunjin grin, mouth half full of rice.

"It's nothing," Hyunjin responds back to him cheeks red, "and don't talk with your mouth full hyung... Do you not have any respect?"

Changbin decides to drop it in favor of eating more delicious food.

"Oh come on... we wanna know!!", Han pouts at him from his seat on the couch in the room. Hyunjin shoves another mouthful of food in his mouth to avoid the embarrassement of explaining how a single text messaged from you manages to make his heart beat out of his chest.

Once Hyunjin's done eating he's free to go back to the dorms and just like he suspected the rest of his dormmates stay behind to work some more, although they all whine at him to stay to explain the previous mystery. He declines and they all keep their sad puppydog eyes on him until he's out the door.

He keeps texting you during his ride, all the way to the dorms. Once he's in his room Hyunjin decides to just change into some clean clothes. He's too excited to talk to you and get to painting, he can wash up later.

He lays in his bed to keep texting you and at some point your conversation changes from how your day's been going to talking about dancing and he mentions how he just today filmed a new choreography bit he's made for fun.

❣️:

Can I see what you've been working on? :)

I'm sure it's really good, you always are!!

Jinnie:

Well... since you asked so nicely😉

[video sent]

Quickly sending the video Hyunjin exits out the messaging app, feeling so giddy he can't help but squirm around on his bed. He still can't believe someone like you could be interested in seeing him dance.

It might seem like a small thing for most but he feels himself turning red just thinking about the way you look at him while he talks about something so important to him. It makes the butterflies in his stomach every time you're near go crazy. It's so attentive, like you actually care and are interested in his interests... and maybe even...?

'No' , he thinks to himself. There's probably no way you could ever actually be interested in him, not in the same way he's interested in you at least.

He leaves his phone charging and finally gets out of bed to go to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. He'd need it if he wanted to stay up late to work on his newest art piece.

Hearing the familiar 'ping' notification of receiving a message makes you open your phone again and just like you thought, Hyunjin had sent you the video of his latest masterpiece of a choreography. Not waiting a second you press the video just to see.... Hyunjin take his hand off the camera and set the phone down on the desk in his room he draws on. He sits down on the edge of his bed and says something, you aren't really sure what, because the volume's too low. In confusion you turn it up more.

Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair out his face, probably. You can't see it though, because the camera cuts his face perfectly off frame. Suddenly his hands run down his body to the button on his jeans. He opens it and starts undoing the zipper next. You just look at the video in shock. 'He isn't about to... to take them off is he?', you think to yourself, just as he pulls the jeans down enough to expose his white boxers and then palms his bulge.

Should you stop watching? Keep watching? How long has it even been playing? How long does it keep playing? While you wonder this you almost miss Hyunjin pull his hard dick out of his underwear and spit on his palm and... Oh God...

You've now done something you can never take back. The downright sinful view of his cock is something you don't think you're ever going to be able to forget. How do you even face him after this? After watching him grasp his dick in his hand and pump it a couple of times to spread the spit and precum around.

You exit the video, panting and absolutely soaking through your underwear. Your other hand rushes to your face to feel your cheeks. They're burning and feel like you've been standing out in the sun for hours, when in reality all you've done is accidentally watch your best friend play with himself.

You struggle to decide what to do with the video and in the end save the video without much thinking, then delete the message of it and decide to notify him of his mistake. As long as he doesn't know you saved it, it should be fine, right?

It takes Hyunjin less than 10 minutes to make and get the coffee. He returns to his room humming the tune of a song he's had on repeat recently. Setting the coffee down on the desk and taking his phone off from the charger he notices new messages from you.

❣️:

Uhm...😕

Hyunjin, I don't think you meant to send that.

He looks at his screen confused. What did you mean by that? He...

Oh God.

Did he send the wrong video?

Frantically opening the video he sent earlier he sees himself, in video, move his hand off the phone camera and set it down the desk near his bed and sit down. Oh no...

"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", video Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair from his eyes. His head may be out of frame but he clearly remembers pouting while saying this. He watches himself slowly unbutton and unzip his pants, adjusting them so that his boxers are clearly visible in frame. In the video his hand drifts towards his crotch slowly, teasingly.

He quickly exits the video and promptly shoves his head under his pillow and yells. He'd accidentally sent the wrong video while hurrying to get a cup of coffee. How could he have messed up this bad? In his panic, it takes him a moment to respond.

Jinnie:

Oh god

I'm so sorry!!

Please don't watch that!

❣️:

Don't worry!!!

I stopped watching the moment you started unzipping your pants😖

I saw nothing, promise!🙏 It's been deleted already!! 

Little does he know though, you'd kept the video. You're not really sure why, but subconciously your brain keeps screaming' to finish it later, of course'.

...

Fuck it, you don't think you can wait until later.

Taking a deep breath, you open your gallery to find the video he sent you. You hesitate for a second but press play anyway. You can feel how you're already soaking through your underwear but pay no mind to it yet.

You watch him do the things you've seen already, all the way until he spits in his hand... and you pause the video. 'Is it right to watch this? I mean, he didn't mean to even send it...', you think to yourself.

But the thought of seeing him touch himself, to hear him make the sweetest noises you could ever in your wildest dreams imagine him making drives you on.

Pressing play again you dip your fingers into your pants. You rub yourself over your underwear and oh my god... you can't believe the wetness you feel after less than a minute of watching the video. You focus on the phone you're holding in your other hand and finally move your fingers into your underwear to directly touch your pussy.

On your screen you see Hyunjin start to stroke himself faster, the head of his dick a dark pink, you can feel his desperation through the screen. Without thinking you move your fingers to your clit and start rubbing it in circles, aided by the wetness of your leaking pussy.

He moans out loud and even though you can't hear it through the fog in your head, you know he's desperate. You move your fingers down to your hole and dip two of them in. You're so wet you barely need to even stretch yourself out and then he does it.

"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!"

You push your fingers deeper and your pussy lets out he lewdest squelch which in turn makes you close your eyes desperately in pleasure. 'Mommy? When he masturbates he calls out for mommy??', the thought makes you lose your mind. You think about what it would be like if he called you mommy in the throes of pleasure.

You want to make him follow every command you give him. The way he'd look up at you on his knees with you standing above him. Maybe you could make him suck on a strap? He'd look so ridiculously delicious with his mouth full, drool dripping down his cheeks.

You add another finger and start rubbing at your clit with your thumb at the same time. The feeling makes you whimper and imagine his hands on you, teaching him how to touch you perfectly. You're getting so close and you remember to focus your screen again.

Hyunjin looks absolutely disheveled. His dick is red and throbbing, you can tell he's getting close. His voice is another thing that gives him away. He's whiny and his voice keeps cracking every time he opens his mouth. Hyunjin bucks into his hand and moans.

"... mommy, gonna cum...!", he strokes himself twice more and then finally cums. You're so close it's maddening. All the sudden you hear him... whisper your name?

It makes you go off the edge and your entire body clenches and seizes while you silently cry out from all the pleasure you're feeling. Your walls suck in your fingers with how you're clenching around them. On the screen Hyunjin twitches violently, working himself through the end of his orgasm.

You pull your fingers out of yourself and slump down on your bed exhausted, but the last 20 seconds of the video that's now over haunts you. Did you hear him right?

You gather strength to pick up your phone again and rewind the video to the part where he cums and turn the volume almost all the way up. Admittedly you end up fixating on the way his dick looks and face twists in pleasure when he cums and then he says, or more like whisper your name. Your brain blanks.

"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone, sits in place for a bit to properly come down and then gets up to stop the video.

You're wet, confused and you can feel your heart beat out of your chest. What do you do now? How can you ever face him normally after that... Does he feel the same way you do? Is he sure he didn't mean to send it?

It's all too much to think about, so you decide that instead of thinking about it you'll clean yourself up and... crawl into a hole where no one will ever find you. Probably. The only thing you know for sure is you definitely won't be sleeping tonight.

© lollixp0p 2024 | please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works

[pellucid-constellations]

Trial and Error

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Based on the request: "Azriel with single mom reader? I feel like being a single mom in ACOTAR would be tricky as hell… reader comes from autumn court and flees to night court because she got pregnant out of marriage? 😯 the shame"

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: A little angst

a/n: Okay this has taken over my brain. I hope you enjoy it!! You can read the previous little part here and part three here

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

“And what would happen then?” 

“I suppose then we would have to turn into giants, wouldn’t we?” 

“Giants. Really?” Melanie deadpanned as if she hadn’t just unraveled the most incoherent line of questioning you’d ever heard. Her new favorite game was “what if,” and you were apparently awful at it. 

“Well—” you began, pretending to think as you leaned against the counter and tapped your chin. “I guess we could just learn how to fly instead. That way we could go collect the, um… bunnies from the tops of the clouds.” 

“It’s cats, mommy, not bunnies. Why would a bunny be on a cloud?” 

“You are so right.” 

You pushed off the counter and continued restocking the shelves of the small apothecary that had employed you for the past few years. You had started out in Velaris working at a few small bars, but that hadn’t lasted long when they discovered you were pregnant. You had earned enough money to get a small apartment at that point, and you just so happened to find one above an apothecary owned by a rather wicked old woman. 

Lucky for you, she was a wicked old woman who no longer wanted to run her apothecary or deal with the space above it. So, you got a job and a place to live without many questions asked—a two-for-one miracle. 

“Maybe we could ask Nyx to take us up to the clouds,” Melanie pondered as she fiddled with a bundle of cloves by the register. 

“Who’s Nyx, sweetie?” you mindlessly asked. 

“A boy in my class. He has wings. He told me he can’t fly very high yet, but soon he’ll be able to.” 

You inhaled sharply through your nose. 

There were probably several boys in her class who had wings and were unrelated to the Illyrian man occupying your thoughts, right? 

You hummed in contemplation. “I don’t know, Melanie. Maybe Nyx could take you, but I might be too big for him to bring me up to the clouds.” 

“Oh, good idea, mommy! Nyx’s daddy can fly too and he can bring you. Or he has two uncles that could.” Your daughter stuck two fingers in the air with pride. “I wish I had wings. Mommy, did my daddy have wings?” 

You shook your head and abandoned the box at your feet to brush your daughter’s hair back instead. Going to school had opened doors to many questions you had been dreading, and Melanie’s questions about her dad had been coming in waves. 

“Your daddy didn’t have wings,” you began, looping a finger around her red curls. “But he did have hair just like yours.” 

Melanie tilted her head to the side. “Did you love my daddy? Nyx drew a picture at school of his mommy and daddy and said they love each other very much. Like as much as you love me.” 

You fought back a sigh. Nyx was causing you a plethora of issues and you hadn’t even met the kid. “Sometimes families look different,” you explained, running your hands down to brush off the dust on Melanie’s clothes that she’d surely obtained from playing in the apothecary. “I didn’t love your daddy, but that’s just because I had so much love saved up for you.” 

“Hmm…I hope you can have someone to love like how Nyx’s mommy has his daddy,” Melanie said after a small pause. And then she swung off the counter and started trekking up the stairs to the apartment as if she hadn’t just aged ten years with her statement. 

You blinked at the space she left, baffled by your five-year-old’s abruptness. She had only been at school for a week and was making revelations about your life that even you struggled to come to terms with. You let out a small sound of disbelief and made to follow your daughter up the stairs when the bell above the front door chimed. 

“Sorry, we’re closed for the—”

A boot heel clicking silenced your call.

His shadows came in before him, dark swirls instantly sweeping along the walls and wrapping up around the front counter. They didn’t touch you, but there was a hesitance about them that suggested they wanted to. You tore your gaze from their behavior to meet the eyes of the Illyrian from the school—the one you hadn’t seen since and definitely not because you were avoiding all situations where he could spot you. 

“Hello,” Azriel greeted with a calmness that was not reciprocated. “Are you closed? I can come back another time.” 

Every thought tumbled out of your brain. You had forgotten—almost—how intimidating he was. Not just in sheer size, but in the way he held himself, in the sharp planes of his face that smoothed into softness in the exact places they should. 

His wings pressed in towards his back as he took another step forward. The floor groaned beneath his weight. 

“Oh, um—” you uttered along with the straining floor. “We are—technically. But I can help you find something. Or place an order for you. No big deal.” 

“I wouldn’t want to keep you if you’re closed,” Azriel stressed. 

“No, no, it’s okay,” you nervously laughed. Act more normal. Act like there’s nothing… abnormal about you. “Anything for someone from Melanie’s school. What are you looking for?” 

Azriel hummed, his eyes lightning. “Ah, so you do remember me. I was wondering.” 

Was he looking at you strangely? Azriel kept trailing his gaze around the room and letting it land on your face, evaluating you… profiling you? 

You were being ridiculous. 

“Of course I do. You gave me great intel on the teacher. I don’t come until the bell rings now.” You rocked back on your heels and shifted your fidgeting hands behind your back. “Was there something specific I could help you with?” 

Azriel ignored your question for the second time. “Is that why I haven’t seen you? You come later?” 

Was he looking for you? 

A strange combination of excitement and trepidation made your stomach drop. 

Another nervous laugh. Your palms were sweating. “I guess so. There’s a lot to be done here so I usually wait until the last minute to close up shop and pick her up. That’s why your tip was so helpful.” 

Azriel narrowed his eyes in a way that echoed concern, but you refused to read into it. You balanced up onto your toes and fell back onto the soles of your feet. 

You could tell he wanted to say more about something—to ask more questions unrelated to the apothecary. But he stopped himself and the restraint was clear in the tenseness of his shoulders. 

“I get headaches,” Azriel shared. “Awful ones. I’ve tried healing magic and a few medicinal remedies, but I was hoping to find something herbal. Could you help me with that?” 

You breathed a sigh of relief and began rifling through a cabinet to your left. “I may have just the thing. I had terrible migraines when I was pregnant and it took me six tries to get this recipe perfect, but I think it would do the trick for you. I almost hate to share it because I was the one that had to suffer through all the bad batches, but I guess that’s kind of my job.” 

You pulled back from the cabinet with a small bottle in hand, a tiny rendition of your handwriting scrawled along the side. You rolled it in your hands for a moment until you saw the shimmering nature of the liquid inside, and then you held it out over the counter and offered Azriel a smile. He replicated it, but it was smaller and looked forced. 

“You didn’t have anyone else to try it out on?” he asked. 

The question twisted something deep within your chest, but you only grinned and ignored the tightness of your jaw. “Who better than the one with the migraines herself?” 

Azriel breathed a laugh through his nose, his eyes not leaving yours. “I suppose that’s true.” 

The flecks in his eyes had you paralyzed, unable to move as his gaze held yours. You were breathless, fist tightening around the small tonic still held out in front of you as Azriel reached forward and grabbed it. His skin brushed yours. You shivered. 

Azriel’s lips parted to speak. “Where are you—”

A loud thump from upstairs cut him off. 

Azriel started, his chin clipping up and his body tensing. He quickly looked back down to you with a panicked question in his eyes. 

You fought for the words to say. If you revealed it was only Melanie, he would know where you lived—another piece of information you liked to keep close. But if you didn’t tell him, that could lead to something worse. He looked about ready to bolt up the stairs and battle your five-year-old. 

The decision was made for you when Melanie came bounding down the steps with a bowl in one hand and a large wooden spoon in the other. 

“Mommy,” she began with a lax posture that did not match the room. “Can I—Oh, hi, Mr. Azriel. What’re you doing at my house?” 

Melanie’s interpretation of his name included an extra syllable, and she was still working on pronouncing Zs, but the Illyrian ignored that. “Your house?” he asked. His attention was fully on Melanie, but he sent you a raised brow. 

“Um, yes. We live above the apothecary. Melanie sometimes forgets that it’s a business downstairs and not just a private playground,” you explained, rubbing your forearm in discomfort. Azriel tracked the movement. 

“Ah, well, it does seem rather fun down here. I can see the confusion.” 

Melanie perked up, waving the spoon in front of your face. “See, mommy? There’s lots to play with.” 

One of the tightly bound coils in your chest loosened as you shot Azriel a look. “Great. You’re encouraging her.” 

“I’ve been an uncle for a few years,” Azriel smiled, rolling the headache tonic between his hands. “I’ve gotten quite good at encouraging terrible things.” 

You laughed with a huff and placed a hand on Melanie’s head, bending down to meet her gaze. “Were you going to ask me for dinner? I’ll be up in just a few minutes. I was just putting a few things away.” 

“I know, mommy,” she nodded. Then, after a quick look at Azriel from the corner of her eye, she whispered, “Is Mr. Azriel having dinner with us? Nyx has been asking about when we have dinner and said to keep the question a secret, but maybe that’s why he’s here.” 

A few feelings barraged you at once. Confusion over your daughter's words; fear that the night court’s inner circle seemed to be asking questions about you; regret that you had given into Melanie’s pleas to go to school so readily. 

But Nyx was just a child—perhaps he asked everyone when they had dinner and Melanie was just connecting dots that weren’t there. 

But maybe that wasn’t the case. 

Maybe Azriel came to the apothecary specifically because you worked there and he was trying to gather intel for the Autumn Court. It had to be common knowledge that the daughter of one of Beron’s men had run away. But Night and Autumn weren’t on the best terms. That’s why you chose Velaris to—

You couldn’t do this right now. 

Not in front of Melanie and certainly not in front of Azriel. 

You pressed your lips into a firm line and whispered back, “No, he came to buy something from mommy’s shop. It’s just us for dinner, like always.” 

A sliver of disappointment fractured Melanie’s gaze. She hooked her chin over her shoulder and sent Azriel a small smile before disappearing into the apartment once more. You wiped your palms on the front of your pants as you stood, taking a breath to calm your raging anxiety. 

“Sorry, she…” 

“It’s alright,” Azriel dismissed. You looked at him for the first time in a few moments, his expression pinched and difficult to read. “I’m around Nyx a lot. You don’t have to apologize.” 

A beat of silence. 

The room was cloaked in unrealized tension. You weren’t sure if it was fueled by suspicion or something else. For you, it was, but the wistful way Azriel continued to linger on your figure was read as something else. Something older, more entrenched.

“It’s just two coppers.” You broke the silence, gesturing to the tonic still held between Azriel’s fingers—his scarred fingers, you then realized. You looked back up to his face.

“Only two? After all it took for you to make it?” 

You felt your mouth twist at the corner despite yourself. “I don’t know if you’ve seen this place, but it’s not exactly up to par with the rest of the apothecaries. I’m surprised you found it, to be honest. My customers are typically ancient fae with boils and warts.” 

“Sorry to disappoint,” Azriel teased. He searched through his pocket and placed a small sum of money on the counter between you. “Five coppers—for interrupting dinner.” 

“I hadn’t even—” 

“Goodbye, y/n.” 

You watched him go, not noticing the shadow that lingered in the corner. 

part three

[scarletssienna]

I Was Heavenstruck

Summary - Wanda takes a liking for a young coffee shop worker. The only issue is, Wanda’s married. word count: 4.7k

Warnings - cheating, mommy wanda, age gap relationship, oral, begging, fighting, obsessed wanda, dom!sub undertones, angst

AN - milf wanda milf wanda milf wanda - I suppose I should post this rather than hiding all my writings in my drafts. Literally have like 3 currently held hostage begging to be let out. Part 2 here

18+ minors/men dni

Coffee shops have always been one of your favorite places. Luckily for you, your little college town had the cutest one. You’d applied nearly the second you’d gotten settled. Now you were happily on your third year of working there. You loved the busy work. It kept your mind occupied and distracted as you could focus on the coffee and making the customers happy. Recently, you found yourself getting slightly distracted at work. There was a woman who came in every morning at the same time. She would order the same cappuccino and chocolate croissant and sit at one of the corner tables while she caught up on emails. Lately, she had begun to get a little chatty. She would stop at the pickup spot, leaning over the counter as she would laugh and ask you about your day. The amount of darlings and sweethearts she used in each sentence never failed to make you blush. While she was older something pulled you towards her. You didn’t notice a ring on her finger. You found yourself quickly falling for her. Now, after two months of the same back and forth you needed more. Your hand shook as you wrote on a napkin your phone number. You placed it on the little dish visible next to the mug. You passed the dish over to her with a slightly shaky hand and a dark blush on your face. Her eyes glistened and riddled with confusion at your nervousness. She hadn’t seen your little note yet.

“Sweetheart, are you feeling okay? Maybe you should take a break. Come sit with me?” She offered as she set the dish down and reached to your arm. You shook your head politely declining. As much as you would love to sit with her, you couldn’t just leave what you were doing. There were other orders needed. She nodded and looked down at her mug as she went to pick it back up. It was her turn to blush as she noticed the note. She hummed a little ‘oh’ of contentment and understanding before hurrying to her typical table.

She was sitting there grinning to herself as she sipped her coffee. She pulled out her phone and you did your best not to stare as you tried to keep occupied. When you felt a buzz from your phone you glanced up at Wanda and your face quickly turned red as you locked eyes. Quickly, you looked away and pulled out your phone to see the notification. It’s from a new number with a simple text. “Hey <3”

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

After three days of spending much longer than you would care to admit texting you finally worked up the courage to ask her out. From there you’d decided on sandwiches and a walk in the park after your shift on Friday. Nervous as ever you’d woken up much earlier than anticipated but spent the entire morning anxiously getting ready for work. You did your hair in a half-up half-down look with two pieces in the front. You then did a simple makeup look. You got dressed before heading to work. Watching the time like a hawk, just on cue Wanda came in. She walked to the counter and ordered her usual drink but disregarded the croissant.

Your smile when you saw her had been apparent. She seemed almost as nervous as you as she made simple small talk as you made her coffee. When you passed it to her she smiled and winked before heading to her table. By the time she’d come in you’d have half an hour left of your shift. She waited patiently as she read a book, glancing up at you every once in a while. When you finished your shift she seemed to be lost in her book. You disappeared into the bathroom to put on a bit more of a casual appearance, changing your shirt and stuffing your old one into your purse. Looking into the mirror you took a few deep breaths to gain confidence before walking towards Wanda. She hadn’t even noticed you approaching her until you carefully settled your fingers on her book, pressing it into her lap softly.

“Ready?” You smiled down at her before pulling your bottom lip into your mouth with a nervous giggle. She nodded excitedly and shut her book, putting it into her bag before standing up.

“Ready.” She hummed and looked down at you now. She stood just a few inches taller than you which always made you blush. Her hand reached down and held yours confidently as if they were meant to be that way. She then softly tugged you out of the cafe and outside. Once outside she smiled down at you. “Where to?” You smiled and led her to your favorite sandwich shop. The conversation flowed easily as she confidently led you around. Anytime you would move too slowly a soft squeeze would be applied to your hand as a reminder, causing you to hurry next to her side again. The two of you walked closely, arms brushing every once in a while. The touch barrier is typically broken after several dates have been broken almost instantly with Wanda’s constant desire to be close to you. You didn’t mind it though. Her closeness and gentle grazes and touches made you feel comfortable as you moved down the busy streets. Eventually, you made your way to the park. She led you to a blanket with a small picnic basket and a bouquet on top. How she had set this up without you knowing and had nothing happen to it surprised you. You grinned excitedly as she handed you the fresh pink tulips. You practically squeezed with excitement and wrapped your arms around her engulfing her in a hug. She pressed a gentle kiss to your temple as you spoke. The action causes you to stutter slightly.

“I’ve never been given flowers before.” You muttered softly and she smiled at you before wrinkling her eyebrows in confusion.

“A pretty girl like you deserves flowers. What a shame. I’ll just have to fulfill that desire for you now.” She said with a little wink as she sat down. She motioned next to her for you to sit and you obliged, setting the flowers next to you. “Any other desires you need to be fulfilled, pretty girl?” She asked with a small smirk on her face. You blushed a bright shade and quickly looked away from her gaze. Flustered, you reached for the sandwiches and passed her hers. She grabbed the picnic basket and opened it. Inside she pulled out some fresh strawberries she had sliced up, a small container of veggies and hummus, and a bottle of wine with two glasses. You giggled when you saw the wine and bit your bottom lip slightly.

“Wanda is like barely noon.” You teased her for her drink of choice. You’d just barely turned 21 and despite how many college kids behaved you rarely drank underage. It had all been very new to you. She just chuckled and poured two small glasses, passing one towards you. You two fell into a simple conversation as you ate happily. Eventually, somehow you ended up lying, looking up at the clouds with your head in Wanda’s lap. Her fingers tangled delicately through your hair as she relaxed in the closeness. From an outside perspective, you two were moving quite quickly. But in reality, this was months of pining and small talk. Finally, you two were able to be close and together. When Wanda’s phone rang for the third time in a row neither of you could ignore it anymore. You reached over and grabbed it for her, passing it to her. You tried not to be nosy and avoided looking at the screen to see who was calling. She declined the call and set the phone to the side. You thought for a second before looking up at her, deciding to ask.

“Who’s in such a need for your attention?” You asked as you took her hand that wasn’t tangled in your hair into your own hands. Softly you played with her fingers, directing your attention to the clouds.

“Other than you? Nobody that deserves it.” She stated simply as she smiled down at you. You smiled at the answer before sitting up and flipping around to face her. You kicked your legs over hers carefully draping them over her lap. Her hands rested on your legs with a smile.

“Hmm.” You thought out loud as you leaned in a little bit. “I want you to tell me something.” You stated as you reached up to her hands with one of yours.

“Mmhm.” She hummed in response, causing you to continue.

“I want you to tell me a secret. Something no one else knows.” You said as a matter of fact. She chuckled at you and raised one of her eyebrows.

“No one else, huh.” She questioned as she leaned in a tiny bit. You nodded in response as you awaited her answer. “I want to kiss you right now.” She replied in a little whisper as she glanced down at your lips. You wasted no time as you quickly closed the gap between you. She immediately kissed back as one of her hands moved to your waist and the other settled on the back of your head. It was gentle and sweet. Delicate almost. She didn’t want to spook you too much. You weren’t exactly satisfied with her softness. When she pulled away you glanced back and forth between her lips and her eyes.

“Wanna know my secret?” You asked, desperation heard through your voice. She just nodded as the scene unfolded in front of her. Carefully you made your way to straddling her lap. Her breath hitched in her throat as it was finally your turn to fluster her. “I want you to kiss me, kiss me, Wanda.” You stated as your finger pressed into the center of her chest softly. She leaned in to kiss you again. This time it was real. It was passionate and deep and everything you could ask for. Her hands grabbed at your hips as she pulled you closer, your body’s flush. Her tongue swooped against your bottom lip, eagerly seeking entrance. You obliged happily as your hips ground softly against her. When you two eventually pulled away you became suddenly very aware of your public presence. You blushed red as you glanced around before hiding your face in the crook of her neck. She held you close as her hand found a slow pattern tracing up and down your back.

The next few days were electric. Then weeks passed and you continued strong. You’d hit the three month mark of your first date last Friday and you just felt more encapsulated with Wanda's aura than ever before. Sometimes after your shift ends you two would walk around the shops that line the street. Other times it was late and you just needed a break from the textbooks. You would end up tangled up in the backseat of her car like a high school couple hiding from the world. Your favorites have been when she shows up for her usual at work. Several minutes after she’s served, you take a ‘break’ and disappear off into the bathroom for hidden kisses. Never once have you gone all the way though. And never once has the conversation of going to either of your houses come up: Until today.

When Wanda came in for her usual you saw her and a big smile grew across your face at the sight of her. It quickly faded as you noticed her discomfort. You frowned in confusion as you saw the man surprisingly close to her. His hand rested on her back as they quietly discussed their orders. Wanda looked quite uncomfortable but you didn’t notice as you were trying to figure out who the man with her was. You knew you recognized him but weren’t sure where from. When he came to order you immediately realized.

“We’ll take a cappuccino and,” he started but you quickly cut him off.

“Vision?” You asked confused before gasping. “Vision. No way.” You exclaimed. Wanda’s confusion was evident as you two shared shocked expressions and surprised laughter.

“Wow! Oh my gosh! What are you doing here? Wow. Wanda!” He exclaimed as he looked down at her. “Our families were quite close when we were young! They still are but after college started I kinda disappeared into my own world.” He said as he shook his head. “We practically grew up together. Well, she is several years younger than me but you know.” He teased slightly before looking back at you. “This is my wife, Wanda.” He smiled. The words hit you heavily and suddenly you noticed all of Wanda’s discomfort. She was married. Your smile faded and you heard the blood rushing in your ears. You covered it well as he happily carried on.

“Yeah, uh, we’ve met sorta.” You said with a squinted look. “She’s quite the regular here.” You said with a faint laugh.

“We have to catch up soon.” He said suddenly and you just nodded sheepishly. “Friday. We’re having a little party. It’d be great to have you. Bring a plus one if you’d like? Boyfriend? Friend? Whatever.” You just nodded in agreement before smiling lightly. You scribbled down your phone number before sliding it to him and mumbling about getting their orders. They ordered it to go before leaving. The look on Wanda’s face stuck with you. How could she not have mentioned she was married? What was she doing with you?

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Friday came quicker than you’d expected. Throughout the rest of the week, you’d avoided Wanda: Her calls, her desperate texts, even your typical work hours. What you couldn’t stay away from was Friday. But you had a plan. Natasha. Your best friend. You’d asked her for a favor and she was quick to agree. Vision had approved you bringing a guest so there you did. You had a bottle of wine in your hand. You both were dressed quite nicely. Natasha in a tight red dress that complimented her hair nicely and accentuated her chest and ass. You were wearing clothes nicer than you’d put on in forever. A tight black dress that hugged your hips just perfectly and left your chest quite out and exposed. Despite your pleas of denial Natasha had encouraged you to wear heals and boy did they do wonders for your legs. You knocked on the door and waited nervously. Wanda opened it with a desperate but nervous smile. It faded when she noticed you had a plus one. She was wearing a white jumpsuit, a little more conservative than you two but it had you blushing anyways. You exchanged awkward highs and smiles. She let you in with a fake smile as she attempted to seem normal.

“This is Natasha. My girlfriend.” You smiled fakely as you watched them introduce themselves.

“Your girlfriend! Wow yes. So nice to meet you.” Wanda bore fakely through gritted teeth. She knew you didn’t have a girlfriend. Vision didn’t. And you planned on making the whole scene very convincing. You two entered and Vision made his appearance. You and Natasha were quickly pulled off into a conversation, weaving your way throughout the crowded house. You both found drinks and made attempts at casual conversation with people. Natasha made the practice of being extremely touchy. She would lean down and whisper in your ear which caused shivers down your spine. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you blush. Wanda watched the two of you interact from her place as she sipped her drink quietly. The quick kisses you and Natasha would share and her quite apparent hand on your ass caused Wanda to squirm from across the room. Your drinks were set down as you two moved off to the side of the crowd. Her hands roamed across your body as if there was no one else in the room. She leaned down and whispered in your ear causing you to blush deeply.

“Who knew this would all come so naturally.” She paused, her hands settling on your hips as she pulled your body’s flush. “I want more.” She whispered before leaning down to kiss you deeply. Thus began a heavy make-out. Her tongue made a quick fashion of taking control of the kiss. You moaned as you opened your mouth further. Your hand tangled softly in her hair as she squeezed at your ass. You grumbled a little when she eventually pulled away. She wasn’t done yet. She leaned down once more to whisper in your ear. “Forget Wanda. I could treat you so right baby. Let’s just get out of here.” Your eyes flickered over to where Wanda was standing as you made accidental eye contact. She was schaithing as she faked enjoyment with the people surrounding her. Her eyes rarely left you. You couldn’t even tell if this was all an act anymore or not. You didn’t even have a chance to consider the proposition Natasha had put up when Wanda practically stormed over. She seemed to have taken your eye contact as a signal to come over. A giant smile plastered on her face when she reached out and touched your arm.

“Honey, can we step over here for a second? I’d love to just have a word with you?” She asked as her arm slid down to your hand, gripping it tightly. She didn’t wait for a response as she began pulling you off down a hallway and away from everyone. You glanced back at Natasha and all she did was wink. The house was bigger than you’d expected it to be. She looked around making sure no one was paying attention before pulling you up the stairs. She tugged you into the nearest room and you clumsily fell into her embrace. She shut the door, catching you carefully before pushing you up against the wall. “What the hell is all this?” She started, as if she was allowed to be the person upset here. Your eyes avoided her as you looked around the room, noticing a bed and dresser you were suddenly fearful she had brought you into her bedroom. The one she shared with her husband. “Oh don’t get your panties all tied in a knot, this is the guest room.” She said coldly as she shook her head. You pulled against her grip causing her to just tighten it. You looked up into her eyes as you struggled with what to even say. Her cold demeanor dropped suddenly as she sighed. Her hands fell to her sides and her eyes looked into yours, now glossy.

“When were you planning on telling me you were married?” You started, cautiously. “That you have this whole extravagant life. And you just sneak around with me.” You groaned. “Because you’re married!” You practically yelled causing Wanda to quickly snap her hand up and cover your mouth.

“Shh.” She hushed you softly. You shook your head, shaking her hand off of your face as you swatted at her.

“Don’t shush me.” You growled as you frowned. She sighed and took a step back, giving you a little bit of space. Your arms fell to your sides in defeat as you finally showed how you really felt. The pit in your stomach grew as you spoke quietly. “I just thought it was real.” You looked away from her and shook your head as tears filled your eyes. “Was any of it even real?” You asked, not even sure if you’d want to know the answer. She stepped back towards you again and cupped your face softly.

“Sweetheart, it was real. It was all real.” She said, her voice cracking as she spoke. “It was more real than anything I’ve felt in so,” she sighed. “So long.” You finally looked back into her eyes. They were glossy as tears threatened to fall. “I got in too deep.” She whispered. “I fucked up Detka. It was never supposed to go as far as it did.” She now looked away from you, feeling guilty. “You were just supposed to be my little distraction in the morning. My beaming ray of sunshine I would get to enjoy with my coffee. I fell for you though. I hoped the date would be terrible and would push us apart and I would lose interest.” She looked back at you. You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth and frowned. “I didn’t. In fact, I grew to really quite adore you.” She smiled a tiny bit. It was a sad, guilty smile that faded when she saw your frown. Her thumb wiped your tears away and she kissed your cheek repeatedly.

“You used me Wanda. You used me as a distraction from your sad, boring life, and unhappy marriage.” Your words were cold and mean. They took her by surprise but she knew it all already. She frowned and sighed.

“Please sweetheart. You have to forgive me.” She pleaded, her hands sliding down your face and down your arms to your hands. The tears that had been threatening to escape finally fell. She gripped your hands tightly in hers as she began to beg. “Please.” She leaned forward again and began to kiss at your face and neck. Between each kiss a beg or plead would follow. Her hands moved to your hips and back to your ass. Her hands stilled as she leaned to whisper in your ear. “It can be our little secret Detka. No one has to know.” She nipped at your earlobe slightly, causing you to groan. You felt sick sneaking around like this. Though there was something that drew you to the situation so strongly. It pulled and urged you against all of your better judgment. You broke, nodding weakly. She saw you nod and gasped relieved as she kissed you deeply, passionately. It was a kind of desperation you had never felt from her before. The feeling suffocated you. Her utter obsession with you fueled a fire in you you hadn’t ever even dreamt of. She dropped to her knees, looking up to you with desperate eyes.

“Let me thank you.” She murmured, her hands sliding up your thighs underneath your dress. You groaned at her touches and nodded again as your hand went to her hair. It gently tangled in her curls as she left wet kisses up your thighs. You separated your legs a little as you leaned up against the wall. She pulled your panties down your thighs and faked a gasp at the wet spot on them. “I’ve barely even touched you sweetheart.” She teased and stuffed your panties into her pocket, not planning on giving them back. You whined softly as you pulled her head closer to where you needed it. She immediately gave you the attention you deserved. She lifted your leg over her shoulder for easier access. Her head was immediately buried in your cunt as she licked moved as if she was starved. Her tongue moved skillfully through your folds and around your clit. You had to hold back gasps and moans as you fell back against the wall harder. A hand covered your mouth to stifle the moanes she created as she hungrily ate between your thighs. Your hand held tighter in her hair as you pulled her closely, directing her to what you liked. You could feel her smiling below you, this caused you to blush a dark color as you closed your eyes tightly. The embarrassment washed away as you only felt pleasure. Her tongue brought you to a quick orgasm. You bit down on your hand softly to muffle the moans she was so easily eliciting from your body. As you came down from the high you nearly fell over. She was quick to catch you as she held you up carefully. Your eyes were still closed as you leaned your head against the door, catching your breath tiredly. She wiped her face a little as she chuckled at your exhaustion. She leaned forward kissing you deeply. You kissed back with desire. You moaned as you tasted yourself on her. You whined into the kiss as it turned sloppy. She pulled you into her arms, holding you closely as you snuggled into her embrace, leaning your entire body weight on her.

“Come here darling.” She whispered soothingly as she held you. “Mommy’s got you.” She whispered instinctively. The nickname she used on herself caught you a little off guard at first. But you smiled and blushed at the comfort and fuzzy feelings you were feeling. She lifted you carefully and walked you to the bed before gently setting you down. You laid back on the bed and reached for her to lay with you. She stayed standing though and tried to part from your body. When she tried to let go of you your eyes snapped open and you whined.

“No mommy.” You complained and grabbed her clothes. She leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, soothing your worries.

“I’m just going to grab some things to clean you up sweetheart I’ll be right back.” She whispered, causing you to reluctantly let go of her. She disappeared into the bathroom and was gone far too long as she collected some things. She returned only a moment later and sat down next to you. You squirmed up against her and she made gentle work of cleaning you up. Her hands gripped at your thighs causing you to instinctively open them for her, whining at the touch. She gently wiped you up before setting the wash cloth aside and carefully taking off your makeup. Your eyes stayed closed as you drifted off into a relaxed, sleepy state. When she finished she peppered soft kisses across your face before stopping at your lips. Her tongue was immediately seeking entrance again, causing you to moan and press your legs together once again. She pulled away when she noticed your reaction, tisking you no softly.

“Mommy’s sorry honey, no more tonight.” She hummed and soothed your cheek. You nodded and looked up at her with big eyes.

“The party.” You looked up with concern. She shook her head a little with a sweet smile.

“I have it handled. I’ll be right back okay?” She assured you as she waited to leave your embrace until you approved. You nodded and she stood up. She went to the mirror and fixed up her appearance. You turned your body so you could watch her, a small smile on your face. She smiled back at you before leaving the room and going downstairs. She explained to Vision that you were quite ill and would have to stay the night. When he offered to come up and help she politely declined, explaining how he needed to stay to finish up the party. He agreed and Wanda returned upstairs. She stopped in her room first and grabbed some pajamas before returning to the guest room, locking the door behind her. You reached for her impatiently, whines leaving your lips.

“Come here.” You murmured, clinging onto her jumpsuit when she was within reach. She stood next to the bed while you nuzzled your face up against her thigh. She took your phone from you one hair playing softly though your hair.

“What’s your password honey?” She asked, causing you to mumble it out. She typed it in before finding Natasha’s contact. She sent her a text saying she could leave and you would be alright for the night. You didn’t even question what Wanda was doing on your phone, all you cared about was being close to the older woman. She then set to work getting you out of your dress and into some comfortable clothes. All of her touches felt like fire on your body. You squirmed beneath her as her fingers grazed up your thighs. She then stepped back and changed out of her clothes. You watched in awe, biting your bottom lip as she stripped in front of you. Her confidence radiated as she didn’t even hesitate changing with your watchful eyes. When she finished she climbed in bed behind you. You scooted back against her body as she pulled you flush against her. You relaxed in her embrace, falling asleep quickly. All of your comfort would be taken away though in just a few short hours when she had to return to bed with her husband.

[2hightocare]

DOWN BAD! 02

Synopsis: Despite undeniable chemistry, your guys’ relationship remains undefined, caught between playful teasing to deeper, unspoken longing.

Pairings: bad boy! jungkook x fem! reader

Genre: friends to lovers. college au. slowburn!

Warnings: angst, drug use, profanity, explicit content, talks about abusive home, fighting, arguing, screaming, crying, flashbacks, oc and jk are nineteen (freshmen’s in uni) mentions of death, daddy/mommy issues.

a/n: GOSHHHHHHH! pray for my girl yn😓😓 she’s down bad and she fr ain’t getting up. Left you guys on a cliffhanger hehe. enjoy🤍🤍

01! playlist

"What do you want?" He says, the smallest glint of amusement on his face has Jungkook's stomach recoiling.

"The regular," Jungkook found himself saying, reaching into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. "I don't have opioids. My supplier said there was a shortage—want to try some new shit?" Yoongi says as he balances his cigarette on his lips, looking into a cabin.

"You've tried snow before, right?" He looks up at Jungkook who stands there. "No, I told you l don't fuck with that shit," Jungkook shakes his head, putting his wallet back into the pocket of his jeans.

"It's on me, just try it," Yoongi hands Jungkook a small bag filled with white powder. "Just snort it and let it do its thing, boy," Yoongi chuckles as he watches Jungkook look down at the drug in his palm. "It won't kill you if that's what you're thinking," he continues, taking a drag from his cigarette before exhaling.

Jungkook's mind immediately goes to you as the words leave Yoongi's mouth.

“You’re going to kill yourself,” you scream, your hands pulling on your hair as Jungkook watches silently—his heart breaking as he sees the tear fall from your eye. Whatever he wants to say stays stuck in his throat.

“I’ll be fine,” Jungkook finds himself muttering, a loud scoff heard from you as you hold his face in your hands, making him look up at you. “Tell me what’s wrong, fuck! I’ll fix it, just tell me,” you cry out. Jungkook watches as your legs give out and you drop to the floor in front of him.

Jungkook feels his stomach drop, his heartbeat stops, and his mind goes blank. He wants to drop to his knees and beg you to not care and run away as far as you can from him, but the selfish part of him wants you to stay.

“Baby,” Jungkook slurs, the drugs in his system not letting him speak normally. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he apologizes again for the hundredth time in the past few days. Jungkook drops beside you, removing your hands from your face as another sob racks through your body. Your eyes red and puffy as tears continue to cascade down.

Jungkook knows nothing about love, but there’s you. The highlight of his days, the only reason he even wants to wake up in the morning.

He hates how he drags you along with him—in every bad decision he makes. Jungkook’s life hasn’t been easy; an abusive household isn’t something anybody wants, but he’s one of the unlucky ones who got it. He knows he’s a legal adult and can move out, but his feet stay glued inside that house because of her, his mom.

God. Jungkook has seen everything fucked up in the piece of shit he calls his house. The blows his mom would take from the man whose blood Jungkook carries. He wasn’t a father to him, that’s for sure. Screams and fighting are the only things his house is filled with. He never heard a bedtime story or got a good night hug. The hug was replaced by a hit on the cheek, jaw, face—or anywhere his dad could get his hands on.

Jungkook blames his dad for the way he is, and every time he looks at you, he imagines the what ifs. Jungkook has done everything he could do to push you away, but instead of leaving, you stayed. It’s scared the shit out of him.

He’s in love with you. Jungkook has never felt anything more in his life than his love for you—it’s almost pathetic how much you make him feel. If your love were a drug, Jungkook would do it every day, every hour, and every minute instead of all the shit he put in his system to forget.

Your love is pure and innocent—everything that Jungkook isn’t. Every time he looks at you, he’s afraid he will break you. He wishes you could realize how unfixable he is and leave—but instead, you’re on your knees begging for him to be better.

How badly did he want to be better; so he could be with you.

“Stop saying sorry and stop doing it, fuck,” you sob, your fist holding onto his hoodie—your knuckles turning white from fear that if you let him go, he’ll vanish.

“You’re better than this. I know you are,” you cry, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, wetting his hoodie with your tears. “Please stop, you could die.” you beg desperately, like a child would.

“Shh,” he comforts, his hand rubbing your back as you sob into him, “I’m sorry.”

As Jungkook walked, the guilt inside him consumed him more and more. The hurt expression on your face after he disrespected you remained etched in his mind, feeling like someone was poking his heart with a needle with each step he took.

Similarly, the weight of the small bag in the pocket of his sweater sent a sense of panic through his body. He hadn’t planned on taking it, but the moment it was placed in his hand, he couldn’t bring himself to give it back. Instead, he bit his tongue and shoved it into his pocket.

His heart sank as an image flashed in his mind of what your reaction would be if you ever found out. With a shake of his head, he buried the thought deep within him before reaching the main door of his house.

Jungkook’s hand trembles as he holds onto the doorknob. He had nowhere else to go, it was either yours or this. He felt his throat close up as his mind went back to you, his heart screaming for you. To turn around and run back to you—like always, his safe space. The only place where he could let his guard down.

The aching sensation in his chest reminded him of the first time he told you about his dad. You were both seventeen—laying on the carpet of your room, staring up at the ceiling. The broken expression on your face after he confided in you made him feel worse than any hit he had ever taken.

“Did you seriously get into another fight?” you groaned as you examined his face, the purple and blue marks beginning to form twisting your stomach in knots. “Who was it this time?” you frowned, your hand reaching out to touch his bruised cheek.

“Didn’t fight anyone. I actually hit myself with the car door,” the lie flowed smoothly out of his mouth.

“A door?” You raised an eyebrow, not fully believing him. Jungkook had a tendency to throw the first punch after someone lightly touched him—he had more suspensions and run ins with the police than anyone could count. Every time you saw him, there was another bruise decorating his skin, always brushed off like it was no big deal.

“Who was it?” You tried again, your face turning to him.

Jungkook's eyes remained locked with the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling. “I can’t tell you,” he mumbled softly into the darkness.

“Why not? Is it a secret?” You quipped, scooting closer to his side—your finger tracing his features as he let out a deep breath. “It’s a really big secret,” he hushed, to which you only nodded eagerly.

“I can keep a secret,” you smiled, your heart beating fast in your chest as you noticed the proximity between you two. You raised a pinky into the air. “Pinky promise,” you bit your lip anxiously, watching him interlock his pinky with yours. “Okay, now tell me.”

“My dad,” he said, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“What?” You stuttered out, hoping you had heard him wrong.

“My dad, he's abusive,” he restated. The color drained from your face, and Jungkook saw it.

Sadness written all over your face. Words didn’t come out when you opened your mouth; instead, an ugly cry replaced the words.

“That’s why I can’t stand someone’s hands on me,” Jungkook says, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to escape the pain in his heart. It felt as if he was being kicked and thrown.

“Fuck.. I always touch you,” you bit your lip, trying to contain your sobs. “Your touch is the only touch that doesn’t repulse me, baby. So if you plan on not touching me, don’t,” Jungkook quickly interjected, grabbing your hand and intertwining it with his.

Jungkook loved your touch; your fingers on his skin felt like heaven. It almost confused him how much he looked forward to it—sometimes he found himself initiating it. You were the only exception with such privilege; anyone else who laid a finger on him sent a sense of nausea and shivers down his body.

“I didn’t know. I’m so fucking sorry, baby. Let me help you.. we can tell the police, he deserves to be in jail. Please,” you sobbed, placing your palm on his cheek.

“You think I don’t know he needs to go to jail? For all I know, he should be put on a electric chair,” Jungkook spat out, shoving your hand away from his face.

“And fuck. Yes, my mom knows. She fucking gets hit too,” he rambled, his chest heaving as he tried to look anywhere in your room that wasn’t you, and for the first time, you saw him break down.

As Jungkook crumbled down with a loud sob, his hands cover his face as his shoulders shake as he weeps, you wasted no time dropping to your knees and pulling him into you, whispering reassuring words in his ear.

"She doesn't leave," he cried. "I keep telling her he's going to kill her if she doesn't leave, but she stays." The cracks in his voice mirrored the cracks in your heart as you listened, feeling the weight of his pain, as the double meaning clicks in your head.

"And I can't leave. Who's going to protect her if I'm not there?" he sobbed quietly, his hands tightening around your waist. "I'm scared that if I leave for too long, I'll come back to a house with a dead body in it," he confessed, sending shivers down your spine.

"Baby," you cooed, tears streaming down your cheeks,

"we should tell the police. They'll help you. I promise."

But his response shattered your hopes.

"No," he croaked out, untangling himself from your embrace.

"Listen to me. If you even think about telling a policeman what I just told you, I swear to god yn, I will never fucking forgive you," Jungkook shook, his face contorted with pain and panic.

"I trust you enough to tell you, but I swear if you say anything about this to anyone, we're done. Whatever the fuck we have, it's done. I will never fucking forgive you."

Jungkook pushes the door open, and he’s met with silence. Without thinking twice, he rushes to his mom's room, slamming the door open to be met with her limp body on the bed.

His heart stops beating, and suddenly everything stops—his hand trembles as he makes his way to her. He nudges her once.

“Mom,” Jungkook calls, only to be met with silence.

“Mom,” he tries again. She stirs in her sleep.

“Jungkook?” She croaks, her voice hoarse as she peeks from her lying position. Jungkook's heart picks up again, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Mom, are you okay? What happened?” Jungkook asks, dropping beside her on the bed. His fingers move her dark hair off her face carefully, revealing a bruise on her cheek.

“He hit you again?” Jungkook lets out a growl, his fist tightening beside him.

“I made him mad. It’s not his fault,” she defends, almost automatically making Jungkook scoff. “Mom, that's not an excuse!” He grits his teeth.

“He isn’t a bad man, Jungkook. He's still your father,” she sighs, the look of tiredness clear on her face as she winces when she moves to her side. Jungkook watches dumbfounded.

“You know, you remind me of him,” she shakes out a laugh, the whole sentence feeling like a punch in the stomach for Jungkook. The more he tries to breathe, the more difficult it becomes. “He was just like you, you know? Every time I look at you—it’s like I’m seeing him. He is a good man underneath it all, Jungkook. You have to understand that I could never leave him. I’m in love with him,” she continues, and every word feels like a hit in the gut.

“W-what do you mean.. I’m just like him?” Jungkook stutters, his throat drying up and the familiar feeling of tears picking up in his eyes have him clawing his nails into his palms.

“Do you think when I met your dad, he treated me wrong?” She finally locks eyes with Jungkook. The light in her eyes she once had is now gone, replaced with dull, tired eyes. “He was gentle with me, he was sweet, caring, he was everything to me. He’s still everything to me,” a tear rolls down her cheek, making Jungkook suck in a breath.

“What about me?” Jungkook's voice cracks, the knot in his throat tightening as he watches his mom shake her head.

“Am I not everything to you, Mom?” Another tear falls, followed by more.

“It’s more complicated than you think, Jungkook,” she sighs. Jungkook feels his heart crack into a million pieces as he watches the woman who brought him into this life discard him.

“He’s going to kill you one day,” Jungkook speaks, wiping the tears from his eyes before clearing his voice. “He’s going to kill you, and you’re going to let it happen.”

“He wouldn’t do that to me,” she whispers into the silence.

“He wouldn’t?” A shocked laugh leaves Jungkook's lips as he can’t believe what he just heard. “He fucking wouldn’t? He fucking hits you? Aren’t you fucking scared that one day he throws the wrong punch?” Jungkook shouts, anger taking over.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” she snaps. “I’m your mother, and you don’t get to fucking talk to me like that.”

“Well, you’re a shitty mother. A good mother would put their child first. The only reason I’m still here is because of you!” Jungkook snaps back, his frustration growing stronger as he watches his mom stay motionless.

“I keep coming back because I’m scared he’ll kill you. But apparently, you don’t give a fuck,” he breathes out, his hand tugging on his hair—feeling almost manic at the lack of his mother's reaction.

“Every hit he took on me, you blamed it on me. When all I did was try to protect you. But you always choose him. So fucking next time he comes in through those doors and has his way with you, don’t come running or yelling my name to come and save you,” Jungkook spits out before walking out of the room and shutting the door behind him with a loud bang.

Jungkook's mind kept racing, never shutting up for a moment, allowing him to think. His brain was filled with repetitions of everything his mom just said. The words "he was just like you, you know? Every time I look at you-it's like I'm seeing him" kept getting repeated in his head over and over again without a break.

Screams of his mom asking for him to save her echoed in his brain, the weight of his guilt and the haunting memories that plagued his mind had Jungkook pulling out the small baggie from his sweater, moving to the small desk in his room.

Jungkook dropped the white powder on the surface, making a line. Without hesitation, Jungkook leaned over, pinching one of his nostrils before snorting.

A sharp burning, stinging sensation spread through Jungkook's nose as he sniffed, rubbing off the remaining powder.

Jungkook dropped onto his bed in a star position as he stared at the ceiling, the feeling of numbness taking over his body. His muscles relaxed as the drug entered his bloodstream, sending a sense of euphoria—a warm feeling spread throughout his body, making him groan in pleasure.

And for once, the voices finally stopped.

It was embarrassing how you found yourself looking for the man you were in love with every corner of the campus. You started with the lockers and hallways, peeking through every classroom, hoping you’d catch a glimpse of the boy who left you standing in your angel costume Saturday night.

You had debated on running after him; the guilt that weighed you down from the slap was intense. Your touch was supposed to be his only gateway, instead, you used it against him to hurt him the same way his dad does. As messed up as his words were, it didn’t compare.

“Have you seen Jungkook?” You ask, poking Dahlia on the shoulder. She turns to look at you, mouth filled with food as she nods without saying anything.

“You have?” Your eyebrow raises as she continues to nod eagerly.

“Y-yeah, he’s ou-outside, in the corner,” Dahlia finally says, swallowing her food. You throw a small ‘thank you’ and rush outside.

As you run to the corner where everybody meets up to smoke, you curse out loud as you trip on the crack of the pavement before changing your pace to walking instead.

Your eyes meet his in an instant as you pass the corner, the lit-up joint hanging from his lips. You look around to see Taehyung and Jimin with worried looks on their faces. As you walk closer to them, Jungkook passes the joint to his friend before crossing his arms in front of him, flexing his muscles. If you weren’t so mad at him, you would find it hot.

“What’s up, pretty,” Taehyung says, trying to break the awkward silence as he takes a hit off the joint before passing it to Jimin, who looks uncomfortable as hell.

“Hey,” you acknowledge them both, giving polite head nods before turning your attention to the boy in the middle, his eyes bloodshot red with a small grin decorating his handsome face.

“What’s so funny?” You snap, crossing your arms in front of you. A loud laugh slips out of his mouth, shocking the boys beside him. “Hi baby,” he says, his eyes dropping low as he moves closer to you. You push him away with a hand on his chest, making him pout.

“Rude,” he playfully scoffs, leaning back onto the wall and reaching for the blunt on Taehyung’s fingers as he raises an eyebrow at you.

“That’s enough,” you say, taking away the joint from Taehyung’s hand as Jungkook was about to reach for it.

“This is our cue to leave. Let’s go,” Taehyung hurries off, pulling on his blonde friends arm, before they both mutter something under their breaths as they disappear around the corner.

“Don’t throw that, it’s some good shit, and I just bought it,” Jungkook chuckles, reaching for it only for you to push him away.

“Alright then,” you pull the rolled-up paper up to your lips and take a drag. Jungkook's face drops, and suddenly nothing is funny. His hand immediately shoots up and yanks the joint out of your mouth before throwing it on the ground and stomping on it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jungkook roars, watching you cough loudly as white smoke rushes out of your mouth.

“Fuck, what were you thinking?” He panics, rubbing a hand over your back to coax your coughing fit. Your throat and chest burn as you continue to cough.

“Don’t ever do that shit again, do you hear me? It’s not good for you,” Jungkook sighs, his rough hand drawing circles down your back as you finally calm down.

“So, you agree it’s not good for you?” You say, your voice hoarse from all the coughing. “Let’s not do this right now, yn,” he pulls on your arm as he walks you to the parking lot. “You never want to do anything,” you yank your arm from his grip. Jungkook takes a deep breath, trying his best not to snap at you.

“Just get in the car, baby,” he continues, opening the passenger door for you. Instead, you push him off and slam the door shut.

“You’re high as fuck; you can’t drive, asshole,” you snap, throwing your arms in the air in anger. “And you’re not?” he clenches his teeth. “I took one hit,” you shove a finger in his face.

“Yeah, a big-ass one. Before you know it, you’ll be high, so get in the fucking car or I’ll put you in it myself,” he snaps. “You wouldn’t dare,” you spit out, and before you know it, your ass is in the air as he hauls you over his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t?” Jungkook mutters under his breath as he opens the car door and sits you down on the seat, reaching for the seatbelt and strapping you in. “Where are you taking me?” You roll your eyes as he sits down beside you.

“To your fucking house,” he says, pulling out of the parking lot of the school and driving you home.

The whole car ride is filled with silence; neither of you decides to utter a word. The moment the car stops in front of your house, you hurriedly unbuckle your seatbelt and open your door before sprinting to your door, unlocking it, and disappearing inside. Jungkook almost screams into his hands, wanting to throw a whole tantrum in this car, but he decides otherwise.

With a loud sigh, he turns off the car, turns to the back seat, gets his sweater, and jumps out of the car. He takes the same route he always did when he showed up at your house, climbing himself over the picket fence before climbing the tree next to your window.

The window is opened as you sit on the ground of your room, your knees up to your chest. Jungkook throws his sweater in first before jumping in.

Then his heart dropped, your small hands hold the tiny bag that was in the pocket of his sweater that had fallen out.

“What’s this, Jungkook?” You voice out, and Jungkook doesn’t miss the wavering of your voice as you finally look up at him. His heart might just have been stabbed by your shocked expression, the betrayal and the pain etched in your expressions send a shooting pain in his heart.

“Baby-“

“Don’t fucking baby me! What the fuck is this?” You interrupt him, your hand shaking as you think of every possible drug that could be in the bag. Jungkook didn’t reply; the words suddenly died in his mouth.

“Is this a way of pushing me away?” You ask, tears starting to flow down your cheeks, mixing with your anger and heartbreak.

“Did something happen at home again? Why? Fuck, why?” You cry, a soul-crushing sob that comes out of you, which has Jungkook coming back to his senses. He feels like shit, and that word doesn’t even cover half of what he’s feeling.

“Please tell me why? I’ll do anything. Let me help you, just fucking stop doing this shit, baby.” You cry, pulling his body to yours, wrapping your arms around his waist, crying into his uniform.

“Use me, scream at me, tell me horrible shit if that helps. Just don’t ever touch any drugs, Jungkook. I don’t know what I would do if you died.” You whisper the last words as you sob into his arms, begging for him to stop. “I’m never leaving your side, so get that into your head. If this is your way of pushing me away, it won’t work.” You sob.

And that’s where everything clicks for Jungkook. His mind thinks back to his mom, “You have to understand that I could never leave him. I’m in love with him,” and his heart drops to the ground. All the walls he took so long to build collapse. He was just like his dad—Jungkook wanted to say he wasn’t, but here he was, hurting you, making you sob into his arms, begging for him to change. The same thing his mom does anytime his father would get drunk.

“I’m not good for you,” Jungkook finally speaks, his hands cupping your face. “I’m not good for you.” He repeats, and you shake your head disapprovingly repeatedly. “Stop.” You cry, your tears wetting Jungkook's palms as he repeats the same thing over again.

“You deserve someone so much fucking better, baby,” Jungkook whispers, dropping his forehead to yours. “You deserve so much better than me. I can’t give you anything, baby, besides heartache and pain.” He continues as you repeat ‘no’ over and over again under your breath.

“Please don’t leave me,” you cry, as he untangles himself from you, pushing your hand away gently when you try to reach for him.

“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t leave. Stay the night; we’ll talk about this in the morning.” That was the last thing Jungkook heard as he jumped out of the window and ran to his car, leaving his heart in the hands of the girl crying on the floor, praying for him to be safe.

[nereidprinc3ss]

come on home

in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid

inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers

wc 2857

warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending

a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3

She hung up on you. 

Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better. 

Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either. 

You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.  

So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.  

What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring. 

“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there. 

“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?” 

Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows. 

“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?” 

“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.” 

You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside. 

“Nice, nice. What else?” 

“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.” 

“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening. 

“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.” 

A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself. 

“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.” 

“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.” 

When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”  

You bite the inside of your cheek. 

“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.” 

“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice. 

“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.” 

Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better. 

“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.” 

Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry. 

“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.” 

“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless. 

“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.” 

Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart. 

“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.” 

Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again. 

“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle. 

Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life. 

“Then I’m on my way.” 

Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.  

After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime. 

You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.  

“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?” 

You shake your head and gasp a small sob. 

Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders. 

His hand smooths over the back of your hair. 

“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” 

You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.  

Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear. 

“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.” 

“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight. 

“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?” 

“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.” 

There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.” 

You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea. 

Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave. 

“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.  

At least, until he goes home. 

Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up. 

“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.  

“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you. 

“That among other things.” 

“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?” 

The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does. 

“Okay.” 

It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.  

“Thanks,” you murmur.  

His lips pull into a melancholy smile. 

“Anytime.” 

There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.  

But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close. 

“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist. 

“I can’t do that, honey.” 

“Why not?” 

His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently. 

“Because we’re not together anymore.” 

“Why not?” 

Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is. 

Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down. 

“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.” 

In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.

“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.” 

He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke. 

“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.” 

You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again. 

“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.” 

Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales. 

“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.” 

When he kisses you, it feels like home. 

[rafeandonlyrafe]

little protector

words: 800

warnings: dad!rafe, soft!rafe, pregnancy cw

“daddy, cut that out right now!” your sons voice rings out, making rafe pull away from your mouth.

“what did you say little man?” rafe raises his eyebrows at your son, who is standing at the foot of your bed, hands on his hips and an exaggerated angry expression on his face.

“do not kiss my mommy!” felix argues, crawling onto the bed to push at rafes chest while you giggle, his little hands not doing a single thing.

“but she’s my wife.” rafe says, frowning when you pull felix onto your lap and press a kiss to his cheek.

“and she’s my mommy!” he argues right back. it’s a recent development, felix showing possessiveness over you. it started at the grocery store when a tall man helped reach something off the top shelf, only for felix to kick him in the shin. its only progressed since then.

“you’re gonna have to learn to share, fe.” rafe says with a pointed look, able to move closer now that felix is happy in your arms.

“oh shush, let him enjoy being an only child for a little bit longer.” you whisper, knowing felix only has about six more months until he’s going to have to be sharing you with a new baby brother or sister as well as rafe.

“but i want to kiss you.” rafe pouts as felix ducks his head to snuggle into your chest, little hands gripping at your shirt as rafe loops an arm around your shoulder.

“as soon as he’s asleep.” you stroke your sons back, leaning your head against rafes shoulder, who sneaks a kiss to the top of your head without felix seeing.

“can’t come soon enough.” rafe says, making sure to keep his voice low for the next part. “you are so sexy when you’re pregnant.”

you roll your eyes. you’re barely showing, which is why you decided to wait to tell felix, wanting to make sure everything went well before explaining that he’s about to have a little sibling and that they’re growing in his mamas tummy.

“mommy.” felix whines when he realizes you attention isn’t solely on him.

“what is it my love?” you ask, petting over his hair.

“can i sleep with you tonight?” he asks, blinking up at you with puppy eyes that are so hard for you to say no to.

“but you’ve got your big boy bed!” you remind him. “i can read you a story before you go to sleep though.” “no.” felix complaints, thrashing his body to show his disapproval, but you know its just because he’s tired, having already gotten him ready for bed until rafe distracted you with his kisses. “wanna sleep with you mommy!” “honey, this is mama and daddys bed.” rafe says gently. he never thought his son would give him a run for his money when it comes to parenting, but he severely underestimated the toddler years.

“are you going to kiss again?” felix crinkles up his nose in an expression that is far beyond his years.

rafe sighs, nuzzling into your hair. “i think when you gave birth you transferred all of your sassiness to him.” you let out a laugh, which only upsets felix more.

“fefe, i kiss your daddy all the time. but-” you continue before he can react, “i also give you lots of kisses. i love you both very very much.” “i love you too mama.” felix leans in, puckering his lips out. you accept and press a kiss before smattering more around his face, making him giggle.

“i love you too daddy.” felix says shyly, before holding his hands out for rafe to pull him onto his lap, making you smile. felix has never had an issue with showing rafe affection, it’s just recently come up with not liking to see it between you and rafe, even getting in between the two of you when you cuddle, or pulling your hands apart.

“i love you too felix.” rafe gives your son a kiss before pulling him into a hug, and you have to turn your head to wipe away tears, your hormones already being a little crazy from the baby growing in your tummy.

“can you both read me my bedtime story?” felix asks.

“of course baby.” rafe says as you slide out of the bed, accepting felix as he jumps into your arms for you to carry him. rafe pauses as he watches you, son in your arms, baby growing in your tummy, a glowing smile gracing your face. 

if you would have told rafe that this would be his life when he was a teenager, he would have spat in your face, but then you appeared, changed his life around and gave him a home and a family he never knew he needed.

“you coming?” you ask, felix’s head buried in your shoulder as you pause in the doorway.

“yeah.” rafe nods, having to blink back tears himself. “yeah, i’m coming.”

taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk

[evolnoomym]

Washing Machine Heart 🩶

Mom’s Best-friend!Joel Miller x f!reader

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Summary: Your Mom is not nice to you, her only Daughter, always picking on you whenever she can. To get back at her you decide to seduce and fuck her Highschool Best-friend Joel Miller. Oh she also has a crush on him so that’s a bonus.

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni!!!!

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: no use of y/n, female reader, implied abuse, childhood trauma, alcohol, smut, reader has no name only nicknames, size difference, age gap, readers age is mentioned and Joel is more than double sooo, mommy issues, strained relationships, petty shit, cream pie, tittys, choking kind of, teasing, Joel is tiny bit Pervy, of course Daddy kink, unprotected p in v,

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Authors note: I was mad so this is what I cooked up lol

Shoutout to @cafekitsune for the dividers 🫶🏻

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. This is my first time writing smut sooooo be nice please. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly. 🖤

Song’s I listened to while writing:

I Hate My Mom by GRLwood

Class of 2013 by Mitski

I hope ur miserable until ur dead by Nessa Barrett

Bubblegum Bitch by MARINA

Backstabber by Kesha

Jerk by Oliver Tree

You know exactly when the relationship between you and your mother started deteriorating- The day she decided to choose your loser Stepdad, the one she only dated for 4 years, over her own 8 year old daughter. From then on you took a backseat in her life yet she still expected you to take care of her all needs. You hate her for what she did and you miss her like a little kid. You had to drag her home when she drank too much, you can’t even remember how often that happened. Always having to jump in between that asshole and her fighting cuz even though she practically emotionally abandoned you, you still wanted to protect her from harm's way. She forced you to grow up so quickly, it’s her fault you never got a real childhood.

For years you accepted that this is normal. The screaming, the violence and the degrading words became a part of growing up. You were a kid but not clueless, someone who loves you wouldn’t have done all of this. And yet all of them tried so hard to make you shut up and believe it’s what you deserved.

Luckily what happened did not entirely break you. No, you grew into someone who fought for herself since no one ever did that.

Of course you hoped she might realize her mistakes, apologize and change but nothings new with her. She’s great at pretending to be a better person to the outside world, than she is in reality, behind closed doors the mask unveils an ugly woman. A narcissistic self absorbed monster that took all your joy away.

It’s pathetic considering how much she always talks about getting abused by her own father but instead of breaking the cycle she doubled down on it. Going as far as using that as an excuse for what she did to her own child.

She only kinda stopped the abuse once you no longer were a small child. Now that you could fight back she did not corner you anymore.

But just because she couldn’t hit you anymore doesn’t mean the picking on you stopped, no, it was her mission to rid you of the last remaining confidence and self love.

In each screaming match she tried so hard to gaslight you into believing you were crazy for feeling offended by her disgusting behavior.

One time you asked why she hit you as a little kid and the answer left you completely blown away. She expressed that you cried so much, and did it to provoke her. What else could she have possibly done other than raise her hand?

Or another time she refused to acknowledge that she hit you at all but a second later told you that perhaps if she would’ve done worse you would’ve turned out better.

At some point you stopped calling her Mom and only went with her name. You knew that it must hurt but did she really deserve that title after everything she did?

Now at 21 years old the relationship is just as rocky, not much has changed.

Your mom has basically zero friends, she’s a bitch of course no one would want to be too close, well except for Joel…..Joel Miller that somehow was her friend.

Perhaps only since they have known each other since High School, he might have felt some kind of obligation towards her due to that. She told you once that Joel was the boy every girl had a crush on with his whole guitar playing thing they all swooned over him.

Even now all those years later Joel was a beautiful specimen, tall, broad shoulders, huge hands, strong arms you’d like to be enveloped by, tanned freckled skin, a cute butt, gorgeous brown curls with slightly gray streaks showing his age, big brown eyes, a prominent nose and soft pillow like lips.

You understand why your Mom had a crush on him, any woman would bend over for him if he’d say so. She thought it was not too noticeable but unlike Joel you caught it immediately.

She made you the reason for her life being so shitty but now after years of torment you saw a chance at really giving her a reason to hate you. Maybe something is wrong with you for liking the idea of breaking her heart so much but you honestly couldn’t care less. The one you felt sorry for most was probably Joel; he would be the pawn in your deranged game without knowing.

As it turns out though Joel is not as innocent as expected, the more you tried to get closer the more you realized he might be easier to seduce than originally anticipated.

You started with small things like hugging him a bit longer than normally so he could feel you perky full tits squished against his chest. Touching his arms and squeezing them but not too much as if to draw attention to it. And from his reactions, he did not seem to mind.

You were not worried about your mother, she never was the most alert to begin with.

When Joel came over for a barbecue you used the time alone with him in the garden while your mother was in the kitchen preparing god knows what to impress him.

Joel and you had some interesting conversations.

“Soooo you work in contracting, right?” You asked him sweetly. Joel chuckled “Yeah sweetheart, I do. But ya know tha’ already, so why ask?” You played it off as much as you could “Just making sure you didn't decide to switch career paths in the time I haven’t seen you…” you look up at him through your lashes, cheekily biting your lip. Joel of course fell into the trap, his eyes going down to your plush lips in mere seconds. Got ya you dirty old men.

You stepped closer until you two were only a couple inches apart. His chest almost touched yours. In this position you really had to Crane your neck up to keep eye contact consistent.

“What are ya doing Baby,huh?” Joel tilted his head slightly down towards your face. You just giggled at him “Nothin Joel, just…” with that you put your hands on his wide chest ruining them down over his enticing slightly protruding belly. “I know you stare at my ass alllllll the time. I also know you like it when I walk close by you and graze you with my tits. My little skimpy outfits turn you on as well don’t they,huh Joel?” You smirk at him.

You can see how he clenches his jaw…ohhh yes you got him figured out.

He hisses low and menacing at you “You are a little slut ain’t ya, baby. Groping a man over double your age. Teasin me with those sugar tits and that tight lil ass….”

You can see his pupils dilate till his eyes look close to being completely blacked out. You muse “Yeah I’m a whore but you like that don’t you?” With that you cup his hard cock over his shorts he decided to wear today.

He gasps and immediately grips your wrist to yank those devilish hands away from his throbbing length. Especially when he hears your mother’s voice calling out from inside the house.

He backs off and tries to catch his breath as well as calm his raging hard on down to an unnoticeable minimum. Before he leaves to figure out what she called for he turns to you and lifts an accusing finger towards you.

“We ain’t done baby, ya gonna make it up to me for teasin and leavin me all high and dry, mkay?” He tilts his head almost to intimidate you but to no avail you’re just a massive brat “Hmmm sure Joeliii but i think your underwear is anything but dry.” You giggle and continue “Probably full of pre cum am I right,huh?”

Joel can’t believe what he’s gotten himself into and just shakes his head while turning to the house.

Somehow he made it through the barbecue without your mother noticing any tension between Joel and you. Stupid of her but good for you.

In the weeks after that afternoon you and him kept secretly meeting up. Most of the time at his house or he’d pick you up with his truck to drive you somewhere where he could have you without any distractions, of course when your mom wasn’t home. She might be stupid but even to her it would be weird why you suddenly start taking trips with Joel and she should not be suspicious.

Also during the talks with Joel that happened when taking a break between fucking it was once again made clear that he for whatever reason had not an ounce of knowledge about your mom’s crush.

The plan for how the reveal should go was set in motion. Your mom was driving out to one of those weird grocery stores that sold the health powders she drowned herself in, in hopes of making her more pretty from the inside out but to no avail the rot can’t be reversed.

You knew how long that would take her, it gave you enough time to fuck Joel in her favorite spot on the couch. Yeah petty and perhaps childish but you don’t care make her remember how you defiled her lovely couch with the man she was in love with.

Joel showed up 10 minutes after she drove off. You barely got the door closed behind him before he pounced on you. It’s been a few weeks since you fucked him last, you wanted him to be desperate for it so he’ll might be more focused on pounding you then notice that your mother is returning.

He immediately slotted his lips over yours, his hands grabbing at your hips with urgency.

You spin with him attached to your lips so you can guide him where you want him, on the couch. His breathing is already elevated and by the significantly evident bulge he’s massively turned on. Good, the less rational thinking the better.

While you push him towards the couch his lips slip down your jaw and land on your throat kissing and sucking all over. Between those kisses he huffs “Babyyy - I’ve - missed - ya so - much…” you just hum as an answer and when the back of his knees hit the edge of the couch he’s forced to unlatch from you.

He falls back, his head hitting the soft pillows so he’s only slightly elevated. You wink at him “yeah I bet you have and most of all He has missed me huh? Looks almost painful, did you not touch yourself in meantime?”

He sounds a bit whiny in his response “No Baby haven’t touched myself, saved it all for ya greedy little pussy.” Even when you think to have the upper hand he reminds you how different it actually is. “Come on baby, why don’t ya take of that lil skirt an’ take seat on my lap.” While grabbing at his crotch.

Your mouth is watering but there’s no time today to get your mouth on him like you usually love to. At his dirty words you can feel some wetness gush from your pulsing cunt, coating the inside of your thighs. As requested you slip your flowy skirt down your legs.

Joel let's out a gasp „No panties baby? Ya naughty little slut.“ he chuckles and you retort „Don’t need them if I’m with you, so why make it harder than it needs to be?“ at that Joel can only nod.

„Come here Sweet Moon Love.“ he demands.

You get on your hands and knees between his spread legs that lay on the couch. Slowly crawling towards him teasing him with your tits that are almost spilling out of your skimpy tank top.

When you finally sit down on his jeans-covered cock he lets out a sound of relief. Your knees on either side of his hips and his hands immediately find home on your hips and ass, kneading and caressing the skin there.

„Fuck Moon ya turn me on so much take of that goddamn top and show me those sweet sugar tits.“

So you do, slipping it over your head and throwing it somewhere behind you. He’s not surprised by the lack of a bra. He knows you hate wearing them and if he’s honest he loves that a lot, easier access and all.

Joel’s hands go from your hips up to the tits he loves so much. Carefully touching them, his warm hands and the wonderful feeling making it unable not to moan. Swiping his calloused fingers over your nipples, twisting them with determination causing you to keen.

You start arching your back towards his groping hands. His administrations cause the pull in your lower stomach to Continuously get stronger. You are convinced his jeans are covered in your juices and without realizing you’ve started to rub your bare pussy over his bulge with vigor.

„Joel enough I need you inside me, now!“ You don’t even wait for a response, lifting your hips and loosening his belt and unbuttoning the buttons of his jeans. With his help you drag his pants down but only so much that you are able to pull his throbbing cock out of the confines that are his blue boxers and you can see a huge dark spot where pre cum leaked, making you look at Joel chuckling „You really want it huh? Daddy” with a sweet lilt that makes his dick Twitch in your hands.

He just groans “Baby Moon if ya don’t sit down on my cock right now I’ll do it myself and I won’t give ya time to adjust.” He threatens but it really only turns you on more.

You peer up at the clock and see that you only have about 15 minutes left.

You take your original position and when his warm length slips through your moist folds his pre cum mixing with your own juices to create an addicting squelching sound.

At this point the dark hair nestling at the base of his cock and his happy trail are completely soaked.

“Gosh, Sweetheart she’s gushing all over me, put it in. She wants my cock don’t keep her waitin” you love when he talks in this way about your cunt, makes you wetter if that’s even possible.

You lift up a bit again and take hold of his length with one hand, the other on his chest to stabilize yourself. Dragging his leaking head through your glossy folds before lining him up with your gushing opening. You take one deep inhale cuz you know it’ll be a stretch even with how often you've done this.

Before sinking down on him you look at him there’s guilt somewhere deep in your conscience but you shake your head, you ain’t backing out now.

You slowly start to sink down when Joel decides it’s not quick enough so he grips your hips and in one swift fast motion sheets his huge dick inside your tight cunt.

“Ahhh..-ah J-Joel what the fuck” you hiss slapping his chest hard for being so impatient.

He huffs “Sorry Baby but Daddy has waited long enough for Her, just shush.” He actually has the audacity to shush you.

You get used to the feeling of being so filled to the brim and slide back & forth for a moment.

Then you put your feet down flat on the couch and grip the headrest behind him before starting to fuck him in earnest. Up and down at first slowly but steadily you get quicker and harder. Joel can’t even speak unless you count his obnoxiously loud moaning and growling.

“Yeah how you like that old man, hmm Daddy you're all quiet this pussy shut you up good, huh?” You wonder and out of nowhere one of Joel’s big hands grips your throat making you slow your movements to a minimum. He pulls your face toward his and grunts “Baby Moon ya need to be put in your place, ya bratty ass is treading on some mighty thin ice.”

He gives you one hard peck and then shoves your face in his neck. You don’t complain, you love when he’s so rough with you and his musky masculine smell is your favorite.

Joel pulls his legs up and plants his feet on the couch just like you did and then he starts to relentlessly push up into you at an alarming speed so hard that if it weren’t for the arm pinning you to his chest you’d fall off.

“Jo-Joel….Joel it’s so good ah…don’t stop” you babble in his ear and opposite to his harsh pounding he soothes “Shhh Baby I know, I know it’s so much for ya and Her. But listen to how much she’s enjoying it.”

And he’s right besides the obscene “plap, plap, plap” of skin hitting skin you can hear the wet squelching from the place you're both connected. “I’m close baby, where?” He asks while slipping a hand between your bodies to touch your neglected clit and immediately your whiny moans get even louder “I-in…inside Daddy. Pleaseee cum inside me.”

You beg and he loves that “Hmm yeah, ya wanna be filled up Baby?” He questions “God yes Daddy fill me up, please pleasee” you want nothing more than to feel him spill inside of you.

Seems that when Joel told you he was kinda deaf in his right ear it wasn’t a lie or maybe the plan of making him so desperate to fuck you that he won’t hear the door unlocking worked out.

But you can hear the slight clicking and the closing of the door. Unlike what you expect she does not start screaming, no, she’s eerily quiet. Perhaps it’s due to not having realized who exactly you're screwing as if there’s no tomorrow or simple shock.

Joel under you seems to have reached his end and without any preamble he starts shooting his warm cum deep inside your tight hole. The warm sensation combined with his unrelenting rubbing your clit pushes you over the finish line too. With that you pull up from his neck and drag him up as well, crossing your arms around his neck and kissing him.

You know she is right there at the threshold, you don’t care and to rub it in even more you say “Thank you Daddy, I love you.” And as if he knows his role Joel answers “I love you too little Moon.”

And that might have been the final straw, she speaks up and it flips out into incoherent screaming. Joel is immediately startled; he lightly pushes you off, quickly tugging himself back into his jeans and getting up to explain. You however get up slowly and put your top and skirt back on.

With the lack of panties you can feel his spend leaking out of you and you’re sure there’s very evident stains on Joel’s jeans that your mother must see.

The back and forth they must be having doesn’t even register to you. The blissful buzzing from the orgasm and the satisfaction of having succeeded in hurting her are making you all dozzy.

But then she comes charging at you screaming in your face “You’re smiling, you think this is funny??? I knew you were a bitch who only ruins everything, you are a worthless piece of shit a absolute waste of space” she’s so hysterical but you don’t care, it’s good she’s showing her true colors for Joel to see.

She continues “You are disgraceful and shameful for the entire family. I want you out of the house now. You are dead to me.” She probably thinks those words could hurt but it’s nothing compared to all the horrible things she did in the past. You just smirk at her nodding which infuriates her more than any comeback could.

With that you slip past her, Joel looks completely stunned by what just unfolded before his eyes. You don’t acknowledge him much, quickly skipping up the stairs,entering your room, grabbing a suitcase and filling it with the most important items. Then shuffling out of your room locking it behind you. You heave the suitcase down the stairs, no sign of Joel all you can hear is her crying in the living room, it amuses you, not an ounce of sympathy left for her. You don’t bother saying bye just open the front door and out you are.

The surprise is waiting in front of the house, Joel, he didn’t leave but instead waited for you.

He looks at you “Did it mean anything to you at all, or was it just a big joke?” He doesn’t look hurt, just confused. You close the distance between him and you “I wish it wouldn’t but it’s not possible to not feel anything, look at you Joel you’re a so beautiful so caring of course I fell for you.” He nods and takes your suitcase out of your hand. “Wh..what are you doing ?” You question “I’m taking ya home Moon, think I’d let you run around these streets? Get in the car” he urges.

And you do, when he drives off you don’t look back once.

Npt: @joelmillerisapunk @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @joelslegalwhre @thundermartini @studioghibelli @sizzlingcloudmentality @vivian-pascal @strang3lov3 @xdaddysprincessxx @mountainsandmayhem @mrsmando @joelsgreys @janaispunk @sizzlingcloudmentality @the-mandawhor1an @clawdee @penvisions 🩶

Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI, thank you 🙏🏻

[wandasfavv]

Getting Closer

Wanda x Fem!Reader

Summary: After finally indulging in a relationship with your stepmom, you found yourself in more situations involving Wanda’s careless behavior such as her secretly fucking you as your father’s in the same room.

Part 1(Make You Mine)

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Stepmom!Wanda x fem!reader, slight non/con, strap on(r receiving), strapwarming, fingers in mouth, RISKYYY sex, angry sex??, daddy issues, and mommy kink bc she’s just sooo, also kinda angsty/fluffy at the end

It’s been a couple weeks since your first time with Wanda. And ever since then, she had become a bit more clingy than expected. Actually more than clingy, just completely obsessed with you.

Almost every night Wanda came to your room, fucking you to relieve herself of both the sexual frustration from you and just the frustration from your father. The two haven’t been getting along at all, only having arguments every day even if they were over little things. Wanda couldn’t even bear sleeping with him, and just used the couch downstairs in the living room as a cover up of where she actually slept, your bed.

Not that you mind though. It was actually one of the best things that happened to you as you didn’t think your father was ever worthy of having such an endearing and beautiful wife like Wanda. She was the only person who actually cared for your well being, truth be told. Unlike your dad, she didn’t dismiss your feelings, always looking out for when you acted unusual and making sure there was something she could do to fix it. Her whole world and worries were about you, only you. Her sweet nature only got to the point where you questioned yourself, if you’d possibly fallen in love with her.

———————-

Around 5pm Wanda called you out to the living room, seemingly planned something. She was sat in the armchair, one of those sofas that would only fit for one. You walked towards her curiously, asking “You called?”

“Yeah, you wanna watch a movie with me?” She replied quickly with a charming smile, the one you grew even weaker for. Glancing at the tv screen, it displayed a familiar movie from the collection of DvDs you grew up watching. You figured it’d be fine to spend some time with her, noticing the need to be close to you she showed too. Though strangely, she had a blanket covering her lap despite the hotter conditioning within the house.

“Um, sure,” You said, moving to sit on her lap as she patted and gestured you to sit there, something that was considered normal as you’ve done it many times before now. However, as you sat down you felt something hard poking your thighs. Your head turned to look back at her questionably, your eyebrows furrowed. “Wanda..?”

In response, she only smirked and moved her hands to your waist, pulling you back to push her front against your body. You let out a small gasp upon feeling her breasts pressed up on your back and as the lead-up happened all so quickly. “I need you really bad today, sweetie.” She said, her voice low in your ear. She moved one hand down to roughly tug down the blanket out and from under you, revealing the toy she hid. It was a large strap on that she had used on you before, though you’ve never taken the whole thing before. The deep red of it was an appealing color to Wanda’s character, and you thoroughly found it arousing to see her with it.

The toy was then in between your thighs, slightly pressed up against your clothed center. “Could you be a dear and help mommy out?” She asked you as her hand squeezed your side, her control already leaving her like always.

You shyly nodded as her soft tone made your head feel cloudy, reaching for the waistband of your shorts and underwear to pull them down once you stood up a bit. Wanda assisted you in doing so, and quickly pulled them down because she just desperately wanted to get straight to the point. She positioned the strap to align with your entrance, already finding you wet. Once the tip was in, she got ahold of your waist again, carefully lowering you down on the big shaft.

“I’ll go slow, don’t worry,” Wanda reassured you. There was small whine that left your mouth as it barely fit and got halfway. She shushed you, rubbing your sides in the hopes that you’d relax more. Still, as she kept pushing you down, tears quickly built up and your hands found their way to Wanda’s thighs under you, squeezing tightly. A loud whimper came out as your breathing also quickened. “I know, I know baby, it’s big. Just breathe in and out.”

You knew Wanda always made sure you were okay before doing something, but she was at times an impatient woman. Ergo, leading to her unexpectedly force you down fully. You yelped and had a tighter grip on her, though not strong enough to hurt her. Your legs kicked a bit helplessly as you were stuck with her inside and buried in you to the brim. Another whine left your throat, “Mommy…”

“It’s okay, I won’t move. I just want you to sit on mommy’s cock for a little while, okay? Just focus on the tv, sweetie,” Wanda responded, her voice sounding sickly sweet. She lifted her hand to your cheek, turning your head to face forward instead of her. Her eyes trailed your body, noticing the hardening nipples showing through the shirt you were wearing. One hand went under the fabric, creeping up to aggressively grope your chest, only making you moan as you began to focus on that instead of the bruising feeling within your cunt.

She kept this up for about half an hour, teasing your body and making you drenched around her cock. As time passed, you grew needier and eager for her to move, but she showed no signs of wanting to. You shifted bit in her lap, biting your inner cheek as the toy hit a spot that made you quietly moan. Wanda of course witnessed the entire thing, not paying a single ounce of her attention on the screen in front of her, only her favorite girl. She smirked at your desperation beginning to show, and only stopped you as her hands tightly held you still. “What did I say? Focus on the movie.”

“But I-“

The sound of the front door alerted you two and stopped you from continuing. Both you and Wanda turned to the direction of it, only to hear the familiar noise of your father barging in. Panicking, you tried to lift yourself up. However, Wanda had other plans as she kept her hold on you, giving you a look of authority to keep you from moving. Despite his unexpected return, Wanda was awfully calm, like she didn’t even care if you’d get caught getting fucked by his wife.

The footsteps were getting closer, making you sweat nervously as you stared between Wanda and where the hallway met the living room.

“Hey, is Wanda here?” Your father asked, seeing your head positioned slightly above the headrest of the armchair once he came into view. Considering the size of the chair and the way it was positioned, you guessed that Wanda wasn’t visible in his perspective. You turned your body a bit and moved your head to where the back of the chair didn’t block your eyes, resting an elbow on the armrest as you looked behind at him.

“I-“ you felt a small yet effective upward movement of Wanda’s hips that caused you to bite your lip hard, causing it to slowly bleed out. Any feeling of her moving inside your sensitive walls made you see stars. Your father looked at you, confused at the sudden pause. Wanda held a smug look on her face as her hands were on your waist, and noticing how you weren’t responding quick enough, she dug her nails into your skin. The action made you surprised and stutter out an answer to him, trying your best to ignore the pain and pleasure that came from the woman underneath you. “S-She’s probably out buying groceries.”

He only responded with a silent nod, no longer looking at you and focusing on searching for something from his pocket. Confused on why he was even home at this time, you asked “What are you doing here anyway? S-Shouldn’t you be at work..?”

Your father still wasn’t looking at you as he patted down his jacket. “Uh yeah I got off work early… but I think I have to go back. I forgot my wallet,”he said, sighing loudly as he didn’t find it anywhere.

“You should probably go then…” you said, a noticeable quiver in your voice. Wanda still kept thrusting gently into you, the entire thing going in and out. You looked down at her face for second which showed a pleasured and teasing look as her eyes zeroed in on how you were taking it. Your lip was also still trapped between your teeth, and you tasted metal off the tip of your tongue.

“Alright, I’ll be back later then. Make sure Wanda starts dinner, I’m starving.”

That last comment made Wanda thrust inside your cunt brutally. A whimper escaped as you immediately put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it hard enough to make her stop. Her face then showed irritation and annoyance, staring off to the side. Luckily your father’s ears seemed to lack hearing, something you noticed as he hadn’t questioned the screaming coming from your room every night at all. He quickly left the house, leaving you stuck on top of his wife who he aggravated.

Out of nowhere, she brought her hands down to your ass, lifting you up from her strap. As you shakily stood, it allowed Wanda to drag you to the longer couch, pushing you down on it so you laid and faced upward. She took the hem of your shirt before pulling it off you in a careless manner.

“God, I’m so fucking sick of him…” she said, her voice deep and raspy as her eyes happened to have darken. Her hand took the toy and positioned it back to your pussy, only this time pushing in swiftly and roughly. You cried out and winced at the feeling of being stretched again, gripping onto the soft cushions underneath you. Wanda set off a fast pace and slammed into you without any remorse.

“W-Wanda slow down- please,” you begged, tears beginning to form once again. Wanda only ignored the plea, holding up your thighs from underneath and pushing them up against your chest to get better access. Your mouth fell open, moans spilling as the pain quickly faded into something pleasurable. You shut your eyes, letting Wanda take all her frustrations out on you now. Your orgasm was soon just seconds away, already built up from warming her cock earlier.

“There you go, cum for mommy,” she said, panting heavily as she continued the forceful thrusts and felt your walls tightening around the strap. Once her words registered, you came and let out noises you didn’t even know were possible out of your mouth. Wanda fucked you through it, letting you ride out your orgasm, but not letting up and making you build up to a second. You cried out again for her to stop, reaching out with one hand to push against her pelvis in attempt.

“Shh… you can take it,” she spoke, smiling sadistically down at you as tears kept falling. You shook your head no repeatedly and vigorously. Your noises and crying didn’t stop either, so to silence it, Wanda took two fingers and shoved them into your already gaping mouth, shutting you up. “Uh huh… so much better when you’re quiet and letting me have my way.”

You whined around her fingers, causing her to only push them deeper and making you gag. Finding it hot, she kept pushing her fingers back in and out, loving the way you choked on her thin yet long digits. It followed a similar pace as her hips, and this time she was pounding you into the couch. “Fuck, you love it when I stuff your holes like this huh? Filled up with all of me?”

Lost in your mind, you now nodded desperately feeling her beginning to hit your g spot over and over again. Drool leaked around Wanda’s fingers and your mouth, following the tears that layered your cheeks. She was feral at the sight of that and it only pushed her to fuck into you deeper and harder. Now coming closer to another orgasm, you whimpered aloud and gripped the wrist of Wanda’s hand that was near your mouth.

Your body shook tremendously once your climax hits you hard, more than the first. Wanda’s fingers left your mouth, a string of saliva following. And her movements continued, but a lot slower thankfully. Still, the overstimulation was overwhelming. “M-Mommy too much, I can’t…” you helplessly said as your voice was shriveled and weak. She had a small upward curve of her lips due to your adorableness from the aftershocks of an orgasm, then soon coming to a halt. She slowly pulled out, watching your pussy leave a mess as it leaked onto the couch.

Fighting the urge to just put her cock back in and fuck you stupid again, she breathed out heavily and took the strap off. Wanda leaned down to give you a kiss, a meaningful one as it lasted longer than most. “You’re so perfect baby… did so good for me. I’m so proud of you.” She whispered against your ear once you sat up slowly and against her chest with her help. It was already sore in different parts of your body, but especially your abused center and bruised thigh. Wanda wiped off the wet spots on your face, softly cradling the back of your head. “You okay?”

“Mhm…” you hummed in response, nodding slowly. She smiled cutely at you, now no longer thinking of anything else. She placed light feather kisses all around your face, causing you to also smile at her adoring aftercare.

“Good,” she said softly as her fingers ran through your hair. Her other arm wrapped around your body, pulling you into her more once she leaned back on the couch. Your head laid peacefully against her within this moment of silence. You then looked up from her neck to see her already looking down at you with a blush on her face along with her eyebrows knitted together forming small wrinkles between. It was like she wanted to tell you something, and knowing her, it was, because she always looked at you with that same expression when she felt vulnerable around you.

“I love you.”

The words that came from her mouth weren’t exactly unanticipated but you were still surprised. Butterflies erupted in your stomach and your face became a darker shade as well, matching the warm cheeks that Wanda had. She looked at you nervously as you took time to respond, not sure if it was too soon after the session.

“I love you too,” you replied, gazing up at her lovingly. She raised her eyebrows in surprise at your response, the overthinking and insecurities preventing her from expecting the answer she wished for. A grin grew on her face once she saw your cute expression. She cupped your face, pulling you into another deep kiss.

“I wish I met you sooner,” she whispered between kisses, thinking about how different it could’ve been without your father in the picture. You smiled, yet inwardly frowned at her words, finding them true as they proved the reality you created in your head false. That maybe you weren’t able to keep whatever this relationship was up in spite of the love you shared.

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Muña (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: At the start of the Dance of the Dragons, you host a familiar face. But it is not your husband who darkens your doorstep. It is his nephew.

Warnings: Daemon haunting the narrative. Smut. Body image issues, self-esteem issues. Tully! Reader (Reddish undertone hair) Implied mommy issues. Vaginal sex. Breeding kink

A/N: I got no explanation for this. Might end up writing a part 2 if this does well. Pt 2

“THERE IS a dragon at our gates.” One of your guards announces. You get up from your seat, a wave of nausea already beginning to make herself known. You would rather not face your husband. Not today. Not ever, if you are being truthful with yourself.

You have gained weight. The slim figure that you flaunted at sixteen is long gone. There is more weight in your hips and chest, a bit of softness around your middle. You know he will mock you for it.

“Open them.” You order, bracing yourself for the uncomfortable encounter. You can’t bar him entrance to what is his home too, despite him not visiting in years. “Tell him to leave the dragon there. I’ll send it some food.”

The guard bows and exits the room. One of your companions, Lady Whent, starts to pace the hall. She fears what your husband coming here might mean for you. The rumors said he had loudly proclaimed he would deal with you himself.

Your choice to keep the Riverlands out of the war effort is controversial, but predictable. Surely, no one in their right mind thought you would aid your husband install his Queen. Not even him. Not after he had left your shared home and started living in sin with her, shaming you in front of the whole realm. Yet again, no one would have called Daemon Targaryen the epitome of saneness.

You go sit on your throne, placing your embroidery aside. Your tenants are happy enough that you don’t hold court as often as the other lords. And when they are not, they still refuse to bring their problems to you unless absolutely necessary. No one wants to burden their poor lady more.

You wish they did. The days would seem less empty that way, rotting away in this castle, your house’s sigil mocking you from every corner. Family, Duty, Honor, they had promised you. None had come.

The guard comes back. You remain sitting on your throne, the one you hardly use. You intend to receive your husband from a position of power, not allow him to cower you. But when you look at the man next to the guard, your breath catches.

This man is not your husband. This man is not even one of Rhaenyra’s men.

“Lady Tully.” He says, taking a deep bow. Very respectful, which would make you doubt his relation to your husband were it not for the fact he shares his silver hair.

“Prince… Aemond.” You say, looking at his face. It’s your best guess as to his identity, considering he has a green banner and an eye patch. He wears all black, the color of House Targaryen. You stand up, and curtsy.

“My lady.”

“My husband is not here.” You say, hurriedly. It’s your first instinct. You do not want that dragon of his torching your tenants.“You are welcome to check the castle and my lands, but there is no love lost between us. I assure you I am not hiding him.”

“I know.” He answers, lips twitching into a smirk. You find nothing humorous about it, but you do not dare voice it. You do not understand what he is doing here, if not chasing after Daemon. “I understand your people… Resent him.”

“It is not our place to judge.” You say, voice firm. This man is at least ten years your junior, you will not allow him to intimidate you. No matter how he towers over you, no matter how menacing and mean his features seem. He is no Daemon Targaryen, this green boy. Your husband is the only man you had truly feared. “Only the Seven are perfect, and thus, entitled to judge others' actions.”

“Very devout.” Aemond steps closer to you, his smile widening. The way his face contorts, sharp and with too many teeth, reminds you of one of the piscivorous fishes you have seen swimming up the stream during summer. The look in their eyes is the same he sports now, right before they decide to feast on an unaware trout. “Just like us. Seems like we have a lot in common.”

You gulp. You wish you were less easy to intimidate.

“We do?”

“We do. I don’t like your husband either. The tales of his prowess have been overly exaggerated. And I do not think you are too keen on bowing to Rhaenyra, considering your marriage will be annulled.” A pair of his fingers pluck a stray curl from your up do, twirling it between his fingers. The slightly copperish undertones of it glint under the candlelight.

The threat looms in the air, uncontested by you. Both Prince Aemond and you know that Queen Rhaenyra would be dissolving your marriage as you speak, were it not for the fact that your husband and her need your lands and men for her war. Annulment in exchange for your life would be a much less cruel punishment than whatever they are cooking.

If you were a quieter woman, a less brave one, you would accept your fate. You would say your marriage had been unconsummated, that you will aid your new sovereign and your ex-husband in their war. But you won’t leave your people to their tender care. With the privileged position your lands have, they are also in the privileged position to be amongst the first to burn.

You are not so craven as to save your life in exchange for the ones of your subjects. Hence, neutrality. Hoping it will spare you. All of you.

“Do you think I want to still be married to him? After all this?” It is not enough, you see it now. With the green banner inside your hall, with the one eyed prince himself sent to rally you behind their cause. Neutrality won’t save you. You need to resist Daemon, not just sit praying he won’t attack you. The Seven know he has no such qualms.

“Perhaps we can make a widow out of you yet.” Aemond says to you, a hint of a smile making his expression turn even more menacing.

Tasting freedom on the tip of your tongue for the first time in years, you smile back.

YOU ARE on your side, Aemond thrusting into you from behind. His hand envelops your hip, greedily grasping your flesh. His other arm is under your head, serving as a pillow. For once, you are not self-conscious.

How could you be, when he had practically begged for entrance to your bed? He wanted you, and the thought of that was as thrilling as it was foreign. You hadn't broken your marriage vows ever since you took them. No man had dared voice interest, considering who your husband was.

Aemond had to convince you to get you here, and you had fumbled like a maiden every step of the way. You didn’t dare defy Daemon either. Despite your loneliness over the years, you had never taken another to your bed. No matter how tempted you had been.

When you had seen Aemond, you weren’t planning to, either. He was your good nephew, Daemon’s family. It was utterly scandalous, yet here you were.

You weren’t too sure how you had ended up into this predicament, though. One second the two of you had been making plans, your Lord Commander eager to be at his service, and the next, Aemond was crowding you against a wall and kissing you with unparalleled hunger. Your doubts had been quieted by his warm hands and eager mouth, as he forced you to writhe on his arms and try to divest him of his clothes. Perhaps he had carried you to your room then. You can’t remember, you just hope no one saw you.

“Did he fuck you like this?” He mouths at your ear, lightly biting. No matter how much you want to banish the thought of Daemon from your mind, Aemond doesn’t let you. It makes you feel guilty, breaking your self-imposed celibacy with your nephew in law, but he seems to get a secret thrill from it.

You don’t have the heart to tell him Daemon and you have only gone to bed together once. The night of your wedding.

You stay silent. His hand slides over your stomach, down to your mound. A single, long finger, slips through your folds and starts to rub circles on your pearl.

“Did my uncle ever make you peak?” Aemond asks you, still rubbing those maddening circles. You can’t think. All that is on your mind is a cloud of pleasure, warm and shameful. You shouldn’t be in bed with Daemon’s nephew. Nor should you be breaking your vows.

Aemond bites at your nape, sharply. Just like his uncle, he doesn’t take kindly to not being the center of attention.

“I asked you a question.”

“No.” You tell him, closing your eyes. Your face burns with your shame. Perhaps it is the embarrassment at your husband hating your bed so much he never visited It any longer, or perhaps it is the fact that you are breaking a vow you had really believed in. But Aemond doesn’t seem to like it, pressing soft kisses into your shoulder in an attempt to relax you.

“I'll give you one.” He promises, rubbing your pearl. His thrusting slows down, allowing the head of his member to hit deep inside you. “In my bed, you won't want for anything.”

The way he says it startles you. Dark, possessive. As if he doesn’t intend to let you go after one night, as if he intends to keep you.

“I don't belong in your bed.” You moan, trying to resist the pleasure that seems so sinful in your eyes. You clench around him despite it, not wanting him to leave your body. His free hand, the one serving as your pillow, grabs at your hair, the auburn mane as a bracelet in his pale arm. The pain of the tug only heightens your pleasure, making your body soar above the wave that threatens to crash and drag you under on the pools of hedonism.

Never before had you felt like this. In your encounter with your husband, as he huffed and puffed over you, you had only felt a quick pain and a vague feeling of shame. He had focused on his pleasure first, kicking you out of bed as soon as he was done.

But Aemond. Aemond stares at you, proud of how you unravel in his arms. He encourages you to do it, taking great delight in watching you fall apart.

“You do. With your gorgeous hair and your delicious cunt, I won't allow you to go elsewhere. You are a gift from the Mother herself.” He whispers, darkly. “I’ll worship you how you deserve, Muña.”

The last word seems to amuse him greatly, for it prompts a chuckle out of him. It’s an odd sound to hear coming from him. He seemed the kind who took himself too seriously. He licks at the shell of your ear, at your face, slobbering all over you.

It should disgust you, yet you can’t help but sigh in his arms. Surrender tastes cloyingly sweet in your mouth.

“I… Married.” You repeat, trying to get Aemond to see reason. You claw at his hands, trying to stop him from bringing you this overwhelming ecstasy that makes your body tense, and your thighs quiver. Your mind feels foggy, your wit reduced to half whimpers and softly spoken words.

“I'll wed you, and place my son on your belly.” He grins against your nape, contemplating his final triumph against Daemon. “My seed will take, where his never could. He is weak.”

“I am already married.” You repeat, a bit more firmly. Aemond laughs, rubbing at your pearl once more.

“Shhh, quiet. Quiet, Muña.” He whispers, pulling you to lie under him. He enters you in a single thrust, not giving you a moment of respite. You cry out, nails raking down his back. “I'll kill him. He is just an old man.”

You mutter something. Maybe a reply. Your lips move, incoherent, and you are screaming, the wave of pleasure finally crashing and pulling you under.

“That’s a good aunt. Squeeze your tight little cunt for me.” He grins, and you think this is it. The two of you are going to the Seven Hells.

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Aemond Targaryen X Reader: Sweet caresses

a/n: i'm 100% team black but that scene of Aemond in episode 2 got me thinking

Warnings: fluff, mommy issues ( i mean come on), talk of death, no use of y/n, female reader, prostitution.

Word count: 1,4 K

His eyes found your frame immediately. Your body was barely covered, allowing the men to feast on the sight of you. Aemond watched you move around the place, a tray with beverages in your hand. You gave the men pleasant smiles as you continued to move around the room. Aemond knew you were only doing your job but he hated that others could savour your beauty without consequence. He wanted to cut the throat of every man who eyed you greedily but unlike his brother he knew how to control himself. Aemond watched you spin around your eyes falling on his for the first time since he'd entered the establishment.

He watched your eyes widen for a moment before you moved over to one of the other girls. You whispered something in her ear, causing her to look over at where Aemond stood. The other girl nodded her head at you, grabbing the tray from your hands and continuing to walk around the room. You moved over to Aemond noticing the way his eyes trailed down your body. Once you were close enough you grasped his hand, beginning to guide him to one of the rooms.

Aemond wasn't a regular but he'd show up from time to time and everytime he did he requested your company. It didn't matter if you were busy with another man or with other duties, the second he stepped into the place someone rushed to bring you to him. You didn't mind it. Despite everything Aemond was always kind to you. There were some nights where he required you to pleasure him and there were others where he simply craved a soft touch and a kind word. You never knew what type of attention he needed when he walked into your private room but it didn't take you long to figure it out.

There were moments in the beginning where you'd understood his intentions wrong. The first time he began to undress himself you thought he wanted to fuck you. You'd walked over to him kneeling before him, your hands moving to tug his pants down only for him to place a gentle hand on yours. You gazed up at him curiously when he pulled you to your feet and proceeded to latch onto your body and sob. That was the first time you realised there was more to the prince than you knew.

You closed the door behind you before moving over to Aemond. He stood still allowing you to approach him. You gave him a gentle smile, your hands moving to untie his cloak. Your movements were slow but steady, allowing Aemond to stop you if he wished but never showing signs of weakness. Seeing as he didn't react to you fiddling with the strings of his cloak you continued your movements until you removed the fabric from his shoulders. You walked over to a chair placing the cloak on it.

Aemond watched your ass sway as you walked away from him and even though the sight oftentimes aroused him tonight it simply made him crave the warmth of your skin on his.  He moved his hands to his clothes and began to undress himself. You turned to look at him, watching as he removed every item of clothing from his body until he was completely bare before you. You stood quietly awaiting some sort of command.

“Where do you want me, my prince?”

“On the bed.”

You nodded to him, walking over to the large bed in the middle of the room. You crawled onto the mattress, positioning yourself so that your back was resting on the headboard. Aemond watched you move until you were comfortable. Once he noticed you were done shifting around he strode over to you. He climbed onto the bed, crawling over to you. He sat beside you for a moment, merely gazing at your face. You placed a hand on his cheek causing him to shut his eye. 

“Can I take this off?”

“Yes.”

Your hands moved softly over his eyepatch tugging it off of his face with a gentle hand. You gazed into his lost eye, a small pang swelling in your chest at the sight. It used to scare you but now it only made you pity him. 

“What do you need from me?”

“Just comfort tonight.”

“Then that is what you shall get, my prince.”

“I’ve told you before, in here I want to simply be Aemond. Not your prince.”

“Forgive me, force of habit.”

“It’s okay, just don’t call me that again.”

“Yes Aemond, as you wish.”

Satisfied with you referring to him in the way he wanted Aemond moved to lay down in your lap. You placed a hand on his head, stroking his long hair. The room filled with silence for a moment as you continued your caresses. 

“Sing for me.”

“What would you like me to sing?”

“Anything.”

You thought for a moment before beginning to hum a song your mother used to sing to you when you were a little girl. Aemond closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of your body beneath him and the way your voice drifted through the room. Your hands continued to stroke Aemonds hair as you sang, your own eyes closing as you did. Once the tune came to an end you opened your eyes, gazing down at Aemond.

“That was lovely.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Aemond let out a deep sigh, his hands moving against your thigh to trace the small scars that littered your skin. You could tell there was something on his mind but you never tried to pry information from him. He would talk to you when he was ready. 

“I do regret it.”

“Regret what?”

“What happened with Luke. I lost my temper that day. It was not my intention to harm him. I do regret it.”

“Regret is the first step in accepting your wrongs and learning from them. That's what my father used to say anyway.”

Aemond gave you a hum, his body shifting so that he was laying on his back. He reached his hand out, twirling a piece of your hair with his finger. You moved to stroke his face with your thumb. 

“Aegon isn’t well.”

You wondered if Aegon had ever been well to begin with but you decided to keep your thoughts to yourself.

“Heleana is completely distraught.”

“It must be hard to lose a child.”

“Yes, I imagine it is. Then again I wouldn't know.”

“Do you think of it? Having children I mean.”

“I will someday. It’s part of my duties but I must confess the thought never crossed my mind.”

Silence filled the room again. You could see the wheels turning in Aemond’s mind as he stared up at the ceiling. You placed your palm on his chest feeling his heartbeat. 

“He wanted to kill me.”

You knew he was talking about his uncle Dameon. He used to come around here a lot when you were younger but you never lay with him.

“He fears me.”

“He should.”

Aemonds eyes opened, his gaze falling on your face. You were far too focused on the small braid you were making to notice it though. It wasn’t until Aemonds hand made contact with your chin that you realised he’d been looking at you. He lifted his head up a bit and you understood his request. You leaned down, meeting him halfway. The kiss was brief, as it usually was on nights when he only desired your comfort, but it still left your lips tingling. 

“I think I'll sleep here tonight.”

“If it pleases you.”

“It does.”

Aemond sat up for a moment turning his body so that he could lean against the headboard as well. You inched yourself down, resting your head on the pillow. Once you were in position Aemond moved to lay down as well, his head resting against your chest. His hand wrapped around your stomach as you began to play with his hair once more.

Aemond had found it hard to fall asleep in his room in the castle ever since his nephew’s murder but in your arms sleep found him quickly. You waited a while before closing your own eyes. You’d wake up to an empty bed and a bag of coins on the counter in the morning. And you’d spend the rest of your day wondering whether Aemond would come back the next night. 

[ilycosy]

subby season one rafe has my heart omg please share ur thoughts on the cokehead when he's high lmao

subby rafe is my fav type of rafe !!! i wna take care of him n mother him sm 😕

warnings: rafe is high (technically dubcon) , mommy kink n issues , dry humping !!

you both knew this wasn't okay in any way, other than personality differences and the fact that you're his dealers best friend— you're a pogue. rafe couldn't think of anything worse that he could be attracted to, but whenever he's in need of a fix he finds himself at your doorstep.

you hadn't really meant for this to become a thing, but rafe was cute. he was still baby faced and jittery every time you brushed him, pouting his pretty lips whenever you told him no more.

he hadn't come for a fix this time, rather showing up already high. his pupils dilated, and his brain moving faster than his mouth could speak. he barely got out the word 'mommy' before his lips were on yours. it hadn't been the first time you and rafe had slept together (don't tell his friends), but it's definitely the first that he's been so.. needy.

his slick lips had moved from yours down to your neck, shoving you through the door as you tried to grasp what was even going on. your hands found their way to his hips before you fully registered that they were even moving, pushing him back.

when you pushed him back, you could see the traces of his coke under his nose. his breathing was heavy, his hands trying to paw at you and bring you closer. whimpering for you, pleading that you pay attention to him.

you ignore the ache in your heart and focus on the ache between your legs, pulling him closer so you can properly kiss him. your hands run up his shirt, teasing his cold clammy skin.

he pushes back, trying to get your hands on him more. "fuck," he whines, his voice throaty and high. "please, mommy." you can hear your heart beating in your ears as he pleads, bringing your hands up to his chest manually.

your fingers find his nipples, just to tease him, not expecting to pull a whine from his throat so easily. his voice raising in volume as he tries to pull away when you pinch them, "fucking– stop!" he grunts, not like that'll stop you.

your hands slip out from under his shirt to rest on his throat, his dilated pupils hazily looking at you as he easily lets you push him to your broken couch. he can feel something sharp digging into his back but he doesn't mention it, not when you climb onto his lap.

"rafe," you tease, dragging your nails from his neck down his chest, resting at his v-line. "i always knew you were just looking for attention."

he thinks he rolls his eyes, whether he actually did is unknown to him. he doesn't argue with you, half because you're right and half because he's liking everything you do. a certain weight is lifted off him when your weight comes down on him, grinding onto the bulge in his shorts.

you bite back a giggle when rafe's head drops to your tits, his hands finding the back of your shirt to untie it. his shaking hands undo the knot of your shirt and tug it completely off, almost ripping it when it gets caught on your shoulders. so needy to have access to your chest.

his breathing hitches as he tunes into all his senses at once, the feeling of your cunt dragging up and down on his clothed cock, the smell of your coconut shampoo and your vanilla bodywash, but especially the soft muffled noises you make.

you watch him with hooded eyes, looking down at him as he drools on your tits— leaving warm spit to cool every time he pulls away slightly to look down and watch you grind. you can tell he's cumming before he even notices, his whines becoming louder and his hips bucking up.

he doesn't notice that he's cum until he feels the prickling pain of overstimulation rush through him when you keep moving, then he feels the uncomfortable wetness in his boxers— then comes the embarrassment. he came, in his pants, before you!

he almost apologizes, maybe begs for you to listen and not be mad but he's cut off by you. "there's mommy's boy," you coo at him, bordering teasing and loving. "did you cum for mommy?"

he swears his heart soars as he nods, a heavy blush spreading across his face as he looks up from your tits. peeking out from them innocently, like he didn't just do lines of coke with barry and cum in his pants.

"sweetheart," you whisper, running your fingers through his greasy hair, noting that he needs a shower after. "can you please make mommy feel good now? it's unfair that you've came n' i haven't.."

he almost gives himself whiplash with how fast he starts nodding, moving to get up and shove you onto the couch.

[beomiracles]

⌞ 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘'𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐘 ⌝

DREAM RECALL “You know what I think of you?” He says, the bed squeaking as he leans forward, dangerously close. “I think you’re scared.” He drawls, eyes boring into your own with such vigor that you almost felt pity for the anger that consumed him. How miserable he must be to live like that. — “I’m not scared.” You calmly state, shifting against the pillows as you instinctively try to create distance between the two of you. Quickly taking note of your hesitant body language, he smirks, “no? Then prove it.”

“Prove that you’re not afraid of the darkness, of my darkness.”

wc -> 17k (oopsie daises)

pairings stepbrother!beomgyu x stepsister!reader warnings stepcest, daddy issues, some mommy issues, character death, emo/punk!beomgyu + he has an eyebrow piercing, major asshole!beomgyu, mentions of alcoholism, lots of arguing, angsty as shit but with a happy ending, talks of grief and letting go, smut (again, stepcest), virgin!reader, loss of virginity, softdom!gyu but he's also a menace, guilt ridden sex, unprotected + pullout, handjob + vaginal fingering, some cum eating, use of "sis" both outside and during the smut (I cannot stress this enough), might be teetering on the edge of dubious consent at some points but nothing crazy. dead dove do not eat

#serene adds ✎ I have no clue of how this happened lol. PLEASE read every single warning I am begging you. don't read this if as much as one single tag made you waver. ⎯ aside from like the fact that it's stepcest, I fucking love this whole fic. I'm so proud of it and I would actually cry if someone (who got through it) would be up to share some thoughts :>

“There’s still time to turn back..” You mutter as you lean against the leather of the passenger seat. Listening to the bustling engine slowly dying out as the car comes to a stop. “Come on princess, don’t be like that.” Your dad sighs as he retrieves the key, turning it between his fingers. “You knew that this move was coming and-“ — “Yeah, I did. But not this soon, not now.” You argue, folding your arms across your chest in defiance. “You could’ve at least waited until I was out of college, until I had gotten my own place.” 

More than anything you wished to be able to change your father’s mind, to turn things back to how they were before he met Ms Choi. But that was of course impossible, and now you were paying the price for not getting a room on campus. “But look on the bright side, it’s a mere fifteen minute drive to school, and Beomgyu has his license, I’m sure he could take you someday.” Your dad tries, a small smile on his face. — You grimaced at the name, your chest churning in disgust at the mere thought of sharing a car with that thing. 

A tap to your window makes you turn your head in its direction. There stood Ms Choi, she sends you a small wave and before you know it, your father had climbed out of the vehicle, leaving you to sulk. Their voices are muffled through the thick glass but you can see them enveloping each other in a tender hug, your dad leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek. With a small grimace your gaze flickers to the small bracelet around your wrist, its fine silver glinting in the sun and your chest contracts slightly. You supposed you should feel happy for him, it had been a long time since you’d last seen your father so at ease, so in love.  

And it wasn’t like you didn’t like his new girlfriend, no you were quite fond of Ms Choi. She was nice, often bringing freshly baked cookies whenever she came over, remembering your favorite foods as she made them when you visited. Most importantly she made your dad feel things he hadn’t felt since the passing of your mother. — You just couldn’t understand how such a sweet woman had managed to raise such a being of a son. 

Beomgyu was far from anything his mother represented. He was loud, obnoxiously so, his foul mouth going off every other second, spewing his hatred for the world and the people in it. Beomgyu listened to deranged music, the kind that made your ears bleed. He blamed his father for all his problems, not to mention taking his pent up anger out on his sweet mom. — The black charcoal around his eyes represented that of the rotting darkness slowly eating away at his soul, and you wondered if Beomgyu had always been angry. Perhaps he came out like that, you were almost certain that he was a menace even as a small baby. 

You had been to Ms Choi’s house a handful of times. It was a small two story flat, neatly decorated in light and inviting shades and smelled of roses. Had it not been for the first room to the right on the second floor, you would’ve probably loved it there. — The small hallway is familiar as you stumble inside, a heavy suitcase clutched tightly in your grasp. “Oh dear, let me help you with that”, Ms Choi fusses as she reaches for your bag but you merely shake your head, “I’m fine miss, don’t worry”, you assure her. 

She turns to your dad who was carrying at least twice your baggage as he walked up the dainty pathway leading to the house. “Beomgyu ought to come down and be of some assistance”, she murmurs as she throws a glance over her shoulder, her eyes traveling up the staircase by the end of the hall. — “I’m sure we’ll be fine!” You quickly chirp, dreading the thought of having to deal with him so soon. But there was no changing Ms Choi’s mind as she immediately calls out for her nuisance of a son. 

You swallow thickly as an eerie silence follows, your dads girlfriend huffs out a short breath as she fiddles with the jewelry around her neck. “Beomgyu! Come down here!” The nervous edge to her voice was palpable and part of you took pity on the sweet lady for being stuck with such a being in her house, no less as her biological child. 

Soon the floorboards above you creak, the old house immediately giving away the presence of someone else on the top floor. You tried tearing your gaze from the stairs, but it seemed impossible as Beomgyu’s figure emerged. His step is heavy as he drags his feet across the floor, his hair had grown longer since last you’d seen him, and that was over four months ago. You often did your best in avoiding him, thus leading the two of you to meeting less than a dozen times during the two years in which your parents had been pursuing one another. Well to hell with that plan now, you thought. 

“Hi darling, why don’t you say hi to-” — “I know who she is.” He cuts her off, sparing you a mere side glance before his gaze shifts to your dad struggling with the suitcases, a look of distaste on his face. “A-Alright”, Ms Choi clears her throat as she motions toward your father, “why don’t you help bring their stuff inside.” She receives only a small huff from her son as Beomgyu pushes past the two of you to venture outside. You don’t miss the flicker of disappointment on his mother’s face. No matter what he did, she would always cherish and protect him. You couldn’t understand why. — She turns to you with an apologetic smile, “your room is down the hall to the right.” 

The stairs felt eternal as you pulled your suitcase up, intent on not needing any extra hands. And when you finally reach flat ground, you heave a sigh. Though the comforting peace was short-lived as the thumping beat of a heavy bass filled your eardrums, the sound overpowering that of the wheels on your suitcase as you rolled it along the wooden floor. With a frown you near the first door, it was slightly ajar, allowing for the ear piercing music to float out into the small corridor. Already familiar with the layout of the house, you recognized the room as Beomgyu’s, and as the owner in question was currently downstairs, you dared a small peek. 

You can’t remember actually being inside his room, merely passing it in search for the bathroom as the first floor lacked one. And it was unlike anything the rest of the house represented. It was messy and crammed. The once cream white walls were covered in a variety of posters portraying his favorite bands, one of which you guessed to currently be playing through the large speakers by his desk. — His bed looked as if it hadn’t been made in weeks, possibly months and he seemed to be making good use of his floor as an alternate wardrobe. His computer was on as well, the bright light of the screen catching your attention in the otherwise dim room as the curtains drawn prevented much sunlight from reaching through. 

Upon closer inspection your eyes widen as you realize what kind of video was playing. The almost naked woman in the footage emits a pornographic moan and your jaw slacks as you take a couple of steps back in complete disbelief. — The room was like a tainted mark left on an otherwise clean canvas. The black lungs of a smoker, rotten and decaying. The only flaw in an otherwise picture perfect home, and you would’ve probably pitied the poor soul living here had it not been Choi Beomgyu. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” 

The raspy voice sends a shiver down your spine as you twist on the spot, coming face to face with the inhabitant of the room you’d invaded. Beomgyu lingers in the doorway, your discarded suitcase lazily kicked to the side as his brows furrow, the glinting metal on one of them catching your eye, had he always had that piercing? — You gulp, fists clenching before relaxing again. 

“I uh…I was.. I was looking for my room..” The excuse was petty, and you knew he could tell by the way his lips pulled into a small grimace. “Well this certainly isn’t it.” He spits, taking a charging step forward and you feel yourself immediately faltering back against his desk. — “Out.” He grits, and you could’ve sworn you heard the way his teeth ground together as his jaw flexed.

Not having to be told twice, you quickly slip out of the room, the door being slammed shut on your ass in a mere second. “What a dick”, you mutter, though you supposed it was somewhat deserved as you went in his room without permission. — Your own bedroom, on the other hand, matched the rest of the house. It was small, barely fitting your bed and a study desk, but the window gazing out over the front yard was remarkable. Your fingers graze along the lace curtains as you think of the multiple ways in which you’d be able to decorate the tiny space. Perhaps living here could become somewhat bearable, you thought. 

⸝⸝

No. You quickly found that it would become most unbearable to thrive under this roof. Dinner was awkward. As awkward as it could possibly get. The air was dense, laying on top of your table like a thick blanket, enveloping your party of four in a stale silence. The sounds of silverware scraping against porcelain plates fill the dainty dining room. Every bite felt like a piece of rock sliding down your throat and no matter how hard you trained your gaze to the cut piece of meat in front of you, Beomgyu’s eyes felt like daggers on your skin. Was he still mad about earlier? 

“So, Beomgyu, I hear you’re about to start your senior year as well.” Your father clears his throat, turning to the younger male with a small smile. Beomgyu’s gaze finally shifts away from your near sweating figure and over to your dad as he sends him an almost unnoticeable nod. The statement made your eyebrows raise in surprise, he was a year older than you, shouldn’t he have graduated before summer? — Beomgyu answers your unspoken question in a bored sigh, “failed my last year.” 

“Oh but he’s worked hard to be able to retake his classes this upcoming semester!” His mother suddenly butts in as she places a hand on top of your father’s. You watch their small exchange before your eyes flit over to Beomgyu who looked almost disgusted at the close proximity your parents held. Of course he would be against it, you wondered if there was anything that didn’t make his nose scrunch up in disdain. 

“Then perhaps the two of you can study together?” Ms Choi suddenly exclaims as she looks to you with an expression best described as hopeful. “Your father tells me you do well in school.” — “Of course, my princess is in the top of her class”, your dad boasts as he flashes you a small grin. You sheepishly nod, cheeks reddening at the sudden attention directed your way. “Why, isn’t that an amazing idea, Beom?” His mother cheers to which her son grimaces, “wonderful.” 

You didn’t like Beomgyu. And you thought you had every reason not to. You had never met someone so completely disregarding of other people’s feelings. Someone so selfish and arrogant, someone who took so much for granted. Like his mom. — You supposed you envied him a little. Ms Choi was such a wonderful person, not to mention an amazing mother. You often found yourself reminiscing of what you’d lost when in her presence. But Beomgyu seemed to hold little affection for something you longed so desperately to have. — You remember the evening clearly, the first night you met, two years ago. 

Dinner was awkward even back then. 

You’re sat gathered around the very same table, in the very same seats. Back then you had a small crush on him, on Beomgyu. How could you not? He was everything you weren’t, everything you thought you wanted to be. The expressive t-shirt he wore, a band you didn’t recognize, but you guessed it to be some type of rock. His slightly baggy jeans, decorated with a few simple chains. Dark hair, though it was shorter back then, and of course, the liner around his eyes. It was impossible not to be drawn to him. But he didn’t look at you, not once. 

You helped your dad clear the table whilst Beomgyu accompanied his mom in the kitchen as she prepared dessert. “What do you think of her?” Your father asks with a hopeful smile. You knew that he was nervous about introducing someone new to you, and Ms Choi would be the first woman he’d seen since your mother’s passing. You weren’t oblivious to the fact that your approval weighed like a ton of bricks on your dads shoulders, and you didn’t want to let him down. 

“She seems sweet.” 

He sighs, a relieved sigh. “Do you like her?” You ask, unable to hide the small frown on your face. Your father remains silent for a moment, his hands busying themselves with stacking the plates on top of one another. “I do”, he nods, his face immediately lighting up as he sees your small smile. But before you get another word out, the voice of Ms Choi pierces the quaint house. 

Neither of you move, but the conversation between Beomgyu and his mother was no longer private. “Well if that’s how you really feel, then perhaps you’ll find your father’s place a more suitable living space.” Ms Choi exclaims, her voice is thick, as if on the verge of breaking at any given moment. A brief silence follows her words, and you hold your breath.

“That piece of shit lowlife?” Beomgyu suddenly seethes and his mom quickly interrupts him. “Don’t call him that.” She sounds almost pleading. — Her son chuckles and if you had been able to see him, you would guess that he was shaking his head. “You still let him get away with all the shit he’s done?” — “Oh come on, you know it’s not like that, Beom..” 

“He’s an asshole, mom.” Beomgyu finally states, his voice holds no resentment, in fact it barely holds any emotion at all. “And you, you’re both naive and stupid for thinking he’s anything else.” — Then he re-emerges from the kitchen, not sparing either you or your father as much as a second glance as he heads for the front door, it slams shut behind him, leaving the faint sobs of Ms Choi to echo through the small house. 

Your dad rushes to the kitchen, but you remain frozen in place. His small whispers of reassurance carry out into the dining room as he tries to comfort the crying mess that was his girlfriend. Your eyes flit between the small opening to the kitchen and the hallway; feeling more than conflicted as you gnaw on your bottom lip.

After a few moments of hesitation, you finally come to a decision as you tear yourself from your spot by the since long vacant table. Quietly, you retrace Beomgyu’s last steps and you, too, push the heavy door open. — The cold night air hits your bare arms making you wrap them around yourself as you begin walking down the gravel pathway. You really had no idea of where he might’ve gone, or how you were even supposed to find him. But as you push the squeaking fence gate open, you know that you won’t have to look far. 

Perched on the sidewalk, knees tucked to his chest, Beomgyu leans his chin on top of his folded arms. Drawing in a small breath, you muster up the courage to do what you had come out here for. — He doesn’t say anything as you take a seat beside him, mimicking his actions by pulling your knees to your chest as you wrap your arms around them. You weren’t exactly good at comforting people, but you knew what sadness felt like, it was all you had been able to feel for three months after your mother’s death. 

“You here to fuckin’ lecture me too?” He spits, his gaze is fixed on the asphalt road in front of him. Perhaps Beomgyu’s sadness was different from yours. You shake your head, though you’re unsure if he can even see it. And for a moment, everything is silent. There was a nervous feeling bubbling within your chest, you didn’t know if it was because of your small crush on him or because of the argument you just witnessed between him and his mom. The argument sounded stupid in your ears, and it got you wondering.. 

“Why do you hate your father?” Your words ring out in the quiet night air, and somewhere to your left, you feel Beomgyu shift against the concrete sidewalk. You guess he hadn’t expected the question. — “‘Cause he’s a piece of shit.” He huffs, though his voice lacks the spite it held when in discussion with his mom. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you frown. “But he’s still your father, isn’t he?” 

Beomgyu might as well have laughed in your face. He shakes his head, one of his hands ruffling through his dark hair before he lets it fall to his side. “That changes nothing”, he states. You were tempted to disagree, it changed everything, didn’t it? To hate someone, to hate someone so close to you, someone so important.. You don’t think you could ever hate your father. 

“Have you tried talking to him?” Perhaps it was a stupid proposal, but in truth, you were at loss for ideas. Beomgyu snorts, his worn out sneakers kicking a few small rocks as he lets them roll out across the street. “You can’t talk to someone like him, and even if I could, I would have nothing to say to him.” — He draws in a sharp breath, holding it for a good moment before he slowly lets it go. “Some people..” he begins, his fingers picking at a few strands of vegetation that had managed to seep through the cracks of the constructed road. “Some people don’t deserve to have kids, some people shouldn’t have them.” 

You’re silent after that, unsure of what to say. He was right, some people were not meant to be parents. You wondered what his dad could have possibly done to warrant such hatred from his only son. It felt wrong to pry, so you didn’t. He would tell you one day, when he was ready, at least you thought so. — “But your mom is–” 

“My mom is stupid.” He spits, his expression suddenly turning sour. You didn't like how Beomgyu spoke about his mother, or how he spoke to her. “She doesn’t understand how fucked up dad is, and she still defends him despite everything he’s done.” — He bites the inside of his cheek, his brows furrowing together as his gaze remains ahead. “She’s truly pathetic.” 

Your chest churned at the statement. And perhaps your relationship with Beomgyu would’ve turned out different, had you not said your next words. But you couldn’t help it, and you didn’t regret it either. “At least you have a mother.” It angered you. It angered you that he treated people so close to him with such hatred. Did he not understand? Not everyone had the privilege of seeing their mom everyday, not everyone got to feel her warm embrace, eat her food, have her kiss your cheek. 

Beomgyu’s hatred was selfish. He was selfish. Because you would have done anything to see your mother one last time. — He turns to you, and for the first time that night, he looks at you. “And that makes you so special?” His gaze narrows down on you, the dark liner around his eyes only makes his expression look twice as gloomy. “You think you’re the only one who’s life is shit just because your mom went and died?” 

His words stung, like salt on a fresh wound, slowly being rubbed in. You fight back the tears that were prickling in the corners of your eyes. You just wanted to help. But you were obviously not very good at comforting people, still, you thought that he might’ve been at least a little understanding. How idiotic of you. Beomgyu rises to his feet, giving the gravel beneath him one final kick as it flies everywhere. 

“Don’t think you know the first thing about me just because you’ve heard me and my mom argue once.” His expression darkens even further in the pale night, and you swallow a small sob. “And don’t for a second think that we have anything in common, or that you have the right to talk to me like that.” He snaps, hands digging into the denim of his jeans, the chains on them rattling as he does. 

“It’s not my fault your mommy died, but let me give you a piece of advice yeah?” He leans down, his face inches from your own and you resist the urge to pull back, instead blinking up at him as a nasty sneer casts over his features. “Get over it.” 

With that, he straightens himself back up, letting out a small scoff as he turns on his heel before venturing down the street. — Beomgyu didn’t come back home that night, Ms Choi told you so, you didn’t know where he went, you didn’t care. From that point on, you hated Choi Beomgyu, you hated everything that was him, everything that reminded you of him. But most of all, you hated anything that made you feel like he had made you feel that night; the night he’d left you on the street to sob in your hands. 

⸝⸝

Your first official night under Ms Choi’s roof felt weird, it didn’t feel at all like home, maybe because it wasn’t, or maybe because you laid in bed with the knowledge that Beomgyu was only a room away. — It was dark, the soft glow of the moon seeping through your lace curtains. You had yet to fully unpack, your small night lamp long forgotten about in one of the boxes downstairs. The room smelled weird too, it didn’t smell like home, like mom. 

Despite it being years since she passed you often found resolve in venturing inside your parents room, the room that smelled the most of her. How you would let the tips of your fingers trail across the smooth bed sheets as you imagined her sleeping form. — The first months after her passing you even found yourself going through her old clothes, trying to keep anything that carried her scent close. But even the house itself held her presence, her laughter echoing off the walls, her soft hum as she prepared dinner, her cheerful voice as she skipped down the stairs. 

This house did not hold a single trace of your mother, she was truly gone. Your dad had moved on, he had fallen in love, he’d stopped being miserable, he no longer cried for his deceased wife in the darkest hours of night. Did that make him a bad person? You wanted to hate him for leaving your mom behind, even though she was technically the one who had left you. You wanted to tell him that he should never love a woman that wasn’t her. But you couldn’t. And you wouldn’t. — Your father was happy now. 

Perhaps Beomgyu had been right that night. Perhaps you should get over it. Perhaps you should’ve gotten over it a long time ago. But you didn’t want to, because getting over it meant letting go, letting go of your mom, and you didn’t want that. She was your mom.

Your fingers instinctively reach for the bracelet around your wrist, fiddling with the silver anxiously. This was your last piece of her, your last line, the string that still connected you to her. — You treasured it dearly yet you couldn’t but feel almost melancholic whenever you turned the jewelry around in your hands, an immense wave of sadness washing over you as the small piece kept reminding you of what you’d lost. 

You shake the tears away, sitting up as you lean against the bed frame. You wouldn’t cry tonight, you wouldn’t allow that. Instead your mind wanders down the hall, down to the room on your left. You wondered what Beomgyu was up to, was he already asleep? Maybe he was feeling restless too.. “What the fuck”, you scoff, shaking your head at the glimpse of sincerity you cast his way. Having already gone through with that mistake once, you would be sure to not make it again. Beomgyu didn’t deserve your sympathy. 

He didn’t deserve anything. 

⸝⸝

The following weeks went by in almost a blur. Your dad and you got settled in quickly, and with the help of Ms Choi, you now had a wildflower blooming by the sill of your window. Not to mention the pink rug you had so carefully picked out as you laid it in the center of your room. — But happiest was probably your father. It was sweet, seeing how giddy he got whenever the new woman in his life was around, you liked watching him fall in love. And without you even realizing it, the small house soon began to feel like home. 

Even you and Beomgyu got along fine, if getting along was what you could call it. You had silently conducted a small routine which was to be strictly followed by the two of you. It helped ensure that you wouldn’t have to run into one another more than absolutely necessary. — First, you always used the bathroom at seven. He was never up by then and you enjoyed having free access to both the shower and toilet as you took your time getting ready for the day. 

Second, your rooms were strictly prohibited areas, under no circumstances were you allowed to step foot inside his personal space, nor was he to do so in yours. That didn’t change the fact that he would continuously blast his ear screeching music so loud that the floorboards thumped in rhythm to the beat. Nor did it change the way you threw your hairbrush against the wall in an attempt to get him to shut up, not that it ever proved successful. 

Third, and perhaps the most important one; you did not know each other outside of home. Senior year in college started about two weeks ago, and within the four confined walls of the school building, you and Beomgyu were nothing but mere strangers. Not that the same couldn’t be said for the way you treated each other back at home. Which leads you on to another unspoken rule, the rule that made your parents believe that you got along just fine. 

You think it was said last rule that made everything come crumbling down one October night. 

“A whole week?” You splutter, your fork slipping from your grasp and hitting the porcelain plate in front of you. Ms Choi makes a small grimace at your blunt shock but quickly masks it with a smile, “yes, me and your father were thinking..” — “Come on princess”, your dad interrupts, leaning forward ever so slightly. “You’re more than old enough to sit the house for a week, besides, we’ve been meaning to get some alone time.” He sends you a look that practically screams, “don’t fuck this up for me, alright?” 

With a small groan you nod, “yeah it’s alright I suppose.” But it wasn’t, in fact it was far from it. This meant that you would have to spend a full seven days, locked up in the same house as Beomgyu, with no one to save you. “Is this what people call dark humor?” You mutter, though not loud enough for anyone to pick up on, at least you thought they couldn’t. Opposite you, Beomgyu’s lip twitches as his tongue prods against the inside of his cheek, his fingers playing with the rings on his hands; clearly not oblivious to your small comment. 

“I’m sure they’ll be fine”, Ms Choi adds in a most lighthearted tone. Your dad slowly nods as his gaze flits between you and Beomgyu, watching as you both turned to shoot him a small smile. 

⸝⸝

“And don’t forget to lock the door, oh and I’ve written down all the emergency numbers on a piece of paper plastered on the fridge, and there’s–” — “Dad, I’m fine.” You take his hands in yours, giving them a light squeeze and your father grins, “right, sorry princess.” He throws a quick glance over his shoulder to where Ms Choi was waiting by the car, having already shared a most quick farwell with her son. 

“Go, I’ll be okay”, you sigh as you urge him toward the door. “Alright, alright, just promise to call if anything happens.” He pleads as he ruffles your already disheveled hair due to the amount of hugs he had insisted on. You give him an affirmative nod as he steps out. “Love you, princess!” Is the last thing he gets out before you close the front door in his face, worried that you might never have him leave if you didn’t. The hallway quickly becomes enveloped in a near deafening silence, the emptiness of the house palpable. But the short-lived peace would soon be disrupted. 

“Fuck, are you fourteen or twenty?” Beomgyu jeers as he leans against the doorframe leading into the living room, arms folded across his torso. He’s dressed in a pair of loose jeans that hung low on his waist, and had it not been for the even baggier t-shirt thrown on his chest, you would’ve probably caught more than a glimpse of his stomach. The piece of jewelry on his eyebrow glints in the faint morning light as he sends you a small frown. 

It was too early for any of his snarky remarks, you thought as you swallowed a deep breath. Just ignore him, don’t bite back, that’s what he wants. But as you watch his conceding smirk practically double in size at your silence, you find yourself unable to hold back. “Well at least I talk to him.” It was a low blow, and you knew it. You didn’t care, for the way his face dropped, if only for a brief moment, made it all worth it. 

Beomgyu was quick to hide his initial surprise as he shifted against the doorframe, his dark eyes narrowing down on you. “It’s hardly like you’ve got anyone else to confide in”, he drawls, and you bite the inside of your cheek at his subtle acknowledgement of the lunches you spent alone in the school cafeteria. Your fists clench, your anger on the verge of slipping past the weakening brims of your control. 

“You think you’re so much better, huh?” Your angered huff is met by a low chuckle but before he gets a reply out, you cut him off. “I’m not the one retaking a whole year of college, I mean, I knew you were stupid, but this exceeds any of my previous assumptions.” The words slipped from your lips without you being able to stop them, and it felt good, really good. Beomgyu’s jaw visibly clenches at the insult thrown his way, the arms over his chest flexing as his body tensed. 

Feeling almost high off of the harsh remarks, you continue. “Let’s not even bring up your mom. You can barely look her in the eyes, you treat her like absolute shit, and at your grown age too.” — It’s his turn to flare up now, his previously stunned expression immediately morphing into a scowl as he charges forward. “Don’t you fucking dare talk about her in front of me.” He seethes, teeth grinding against each other as he reaches you, his fingers wrapping around the collar of your blouse as he shoves you against the wall with a thud. 

For the two years in which you had known Beomgyu, sorry, been acquainted with, you don’t think the two of you had ever as much as even shook hands, much less hugged. But now his face was only inches from yours, burning with so much rage that you thought you might just combust into a pile of ashes on the floor. His chest heaves, and his grip on your shirt is near deadly as he yanks the fabric up, his taller frame looming over your own. 

You scoff, trying to mask the unease that immediately surged within your chest at his close proximity. “See? Can’t even bring your mom up without you throwing a hissy fit", you jeer. — The scowl once on his lips, slowly turns into a sneer, a sly look emerging on his face, like you had just said exactly what he needed to hear, given him the opportunity he’d been searching for. 

His breath is warm on your already hot body as he speaks. “Well it’s not exactly like you’re any better.” You catch his tongue dragging across his bottom lip, as if savouring the moment, his eyes focused solely on the way your once stoic expression fell. “Can’t even mention her without you bursting out into tears.” — You open your mouth to object, your brows furrowing at the accusation but he’s quicker, shamelessly cutting you off to get his point across. “There’s no use in denying it. Don’t you think I’ve heard you? Crying in your room late at night, crying for your dead mommy.”

His gaze snaps to your wrist, hand darting out to grab ahold of it as his thumb slides across the bracelet resting there. “And this? A souvenir of her death? That’s pathetic.” He cocks his head to the side, a wicked grin spreading across his lips. “It’s like a child sleeping with stuffed toys”, he sneers, letting go of you with a small grimace before his grip returns to the collar of your shirt. 

You hated the way your teary eyes almost immediately gave you away, and you fervently tried to blink them away; much to no avail as Beomgyu chuckled. “Did I hit a nerve?” He wonders, voice laced with fabricated pity. It made you sick to your stomach. — “Sorry, princess”, he coos, but nothing about the way he gripped onto your flimsy blouse made for a convincing apology. Your eyes narrow at the familiar nickname and his smirk only widens. “Isn’t that what your daddy would say? Princess?” 

Hearing the name you treasured so dearly coming from his mouth, the word tainted with his hatred and evil, it made you bite the inside of your lip, hard. “What? Don’t like it?” He hums, his fingers on your shirt loosening, if only slightly as he leans even closer. It was easy to make out the details of his face now, the piercing stuck through the skin of his eyebrow, the area slightly red, as if irritated. The dark charcoal around his eyes, you wondered if he slept in it, probably. You will your gaze to stay locked with his, not daring to glance down at his lips. 

“Then what should I call you? Sis? Sister? Little Sister?” He looks almost as if he’s about to burst into laughter and you wanted nothing more than to slap that disgusting smirk from his face. “I’m not your sister.” You state, refusing to ever be perceived in such a way. — Beomgyu let’s his head fall to the side, his brows raising in a flicker of surprise. “But we’re family now, aren’t we?” 

You close your eyes, thinking that maybe if you just pretended that he wasn’t there for an extended period of time, he might actually disappear. But once you reopen them, you find him still watching you, his smirk stretched so wide that he almost appeared uncanny. “You don’t know the first thing about what makes a family.” You let your words linger in the now very thick air, watching with an almost gleeful expression as Beomgyu lets out a small scoff, though leaning back as he lets go of your shirt. 

“Quit trying to act like you’ve got me all figured out.” Is all he says, his voice now eerily calm, a kind of calm that makes your blood run cold. — “Then quit acting like such a terrible person, and maybe people would start seeing you for something else.” You mutter, your words not intended for his ears to catch, but they do. His gaze flickers over your body, pressed against the wall in an attempt to create as much space between the two of you as humanly possible. 

He shakes his head, his lip twitching as he runs a hand through his long hair. “How about you quit trying to act like you know what makes a terrible person.” — His words leave you silenced long enough for him to make his escape as he heads for the staircase. The last thing you see is his dark retreating figure, the sound of him trudging up the steps filling the house. You slump against the wall, letting out a shaky exhale as you let your eyes fall closed, already dreading the week ahead. 

⸝⸝

To your surprise, day one and two went by like usual, with the absence of your father and Ms Choi of course. You and Beomgyu managed to avoid one another just like normal, and whilst you ate dinner downstairs, he always brought his food to his room. Sometimes it was almost as if you were living alone, you had the whole house pretty much to yourself and you often took the opportunity to lounge by the sofa in the living room. 

After your fight two days ago, part of you had thought that things might worsen even further between the two of you. But if anything, you’d seen even less of him than you usually would and you think you could count the interactions you’d shared with him on your fingers. 

Your whole body feels heavy as your head hits the pillow that night. Four more days, you tell yourself. You could do four more days. All you had to do was keep up the role you’d been playing for the past three days. 

And as you lay in bed, you let your thoughts wander, wander to your dad. The two of you engaged in shorter calls every evening. It was a nice distraction from your otherwise plaguing reality. Your father told you about the beach, the ocean and the seashells; he and Ms Choi were staying at a hotel by the seaside for the week, and you felt your heart swell at the excitement in his voice. 

“You’ll have to come with us next time!” He exclaimed, the powerful winds surrounding him made his words come out jagged on the other end of the line. Still, you thought you were able to make out the faint sounds of waves crashing against the shore as he walked along the water. — “I’d be happy to”, you agree, a small grin playing on your lips at the thought of going on vacation with your dad again, it had been so long. 

Soon Ms Choi joins your conversation, you hear them share a quick kiss before her tender voice addresses you. “How’s Beomgyu doing dear?” She wonders and your smile immediately falters at the mention of his name. You bite your lip, unsure of what to say, did she not talk to him, not at all, not once? — In the end, you settle for something for half a lie and half a truth. “He’s doing fine.” 

Your dads girlfriend exhales on the other line as she thanks you. “Are you two getting along well?” Your father asks, a hint of suspicion following his inquiry. Even though Ms Choi was quick to defend her son, your dad still seemed to hold back when it came to him, if only slightly. “We’re doing just fine.” You lied, not wanting to address just how awkward things were and how you most definitely wanted them to return home as soon as possible. You wouldn’t ruin your dads shot at happiness just to soothe your own worries. 

But as night approaches, the faint glow of the moon seeping through your thin curtains, you find yourself unable to sleep. Though this time, it’s not because of your reeling mind, rather a faint noise coming from the room down the hall and to your left. — During your previous nights, the house had been eerily silent, almost deafening as it added to the feeling of you living there alone. And Beomgyu was not one to play music at such an hour, even though he was likely still very much awake. 

With a small frown you sit up, fingers grasping the bed sheets beneath you as you shift on the mattress. It was near impossible to make out any details regarding the noise, only a hushed sequence here and there could be heard and your frown deepens. But your desire for a full night’s sleep quickly overweighs any doubt as you’re reminded of the early morning class you had the following day, and the bed squeaks as you gingerly climb off of it, quietly venturing out into the dark hallway to face whatever awaits you. 

You’re able to locate the source of the sound as soon as you step out into the dark hall, and your throat goes dry as your eyes seize the door leading to Beomgyu’s bedroom. — The floorboards creak under your weight, making you freeze as you listen for a shift in the noise coming from his room, but he doesn’t seem to have noticed. 

Carefully you creep forward, a hand on the wall to guide you as you near your target. The closer you get the clearer the noise gets, and for a moment you wondered if he was hurt as deep grunt-like sounds slipped through the crack of the wooden door. What would you even tell him? Biting the inside of your cheek, you shake your head. Just yell at him, cause a scene, do something.

Your fingers are wrapped around the door handle when you suddenly stop, your heart practically leaping out of your chest as a small moan reaches your ears. Stunned, you remain frozen in place as you listen to the ragged breathing of Beomgyu, coming from inside his bedroom and your foggy brain slowly pieces together what he was up to. A wave of disgust washes over you, perhaps even embarrassment at having caught him doing something like that. 

It takes you about half a minute to snap out of your initial shock, eyes darting back down the hall as you plan to make your escape, because there was no way you were going to let him know that you’d heard him. But just as you turn around to head back to safety, a deep groan makes you halt. “Mhhn fuck”, Beomgyu grunts, his voice muffled by the wall separating you but you clearly catch the ragged moan following the curse. 

You thought you could make out something else in the far background, a faint whisper of someone else. He hadn’t brought someone over had he? No, that’s impossible, you would’ve known. And soon the all too familiar and almost theatrical moan of a woman pierces the air.

Teeth latching on to your bottom lip, you stand torn, your brain desperately yelling for you to leave, to forget that any of this ever happened, to not pry further and spare your last bits of sanity. But another part of you, a far more sinister one, keeps your body locked in place, making you unable to move neither forward nor back; forcing you to listen as your Beomgyu gets off to some cheap porn video in his room.

You felt dirty just by hearing him, but the other part of you felt something dangerously close to excitement, your heart thumping unmistakably faster as your gaze flickers back toward his shut door. 

“H-ah..” He breathes and you swallow a gulp, sweat sliding down your forehead at the strange feelings swirling inside of you. Your hands clench at your sides, shivers rippling through your body as you hold your tongue, terrified of making your presence known. — He should be ashamed, not you, you had merely passed by, right? So why did you feel so bashful standing here, right outside his room, in the middle of the night, like some creep. 

“Mhhn fucking hell”, he croaks and you screw your eyes shut, desperately trying to erase the images playing in front of you like that of an old film. Images of him, his head thrown back, his lips slightly parted, lidded eyes and his hand… his hand wrapped around– “Oh my god”, you breathe, bracing yourself against the wall as your head falls forward. You had to get out of here. 

⸝⸝

Disgusting. That’s what he was. Not only a loathsome person but a pervert too. And as you walk down the familiar street, your school bag flung over your shoulder, you think of ways to confront him about his behavior. He was in the wrong here, not you. Besides, your request for him to keep it down at night was reasonable. 

The wooden fence gate feels rough under the tips of your fingers as you push it open, your eyes falling on the quaint house before you. The gravel makes a crunching noise beneath your shoes as you near the front door, the lump in your throat only growing in size. — It was such a pretty house, and to think that something so dark resided within its walls made you sick. Still, you unlock the old door and make your way inside. 

The familiar scent of roses invades your senses almost immediately and you take pride in the comforting smell, allowing yourself to just stay for a moment. You knew that he was home already, having spotted his car on your way back, and it didn’t exactly take a genius to figure out where he was currently lounging at. — Discarding your bag alongside your shoes, you begin the small journey up the stairs, not planning on prolonging the inevitable conversation. 

The blaring music fills your ears as soon as you reach the top step and you heave a sigh. You could do this, you wouldn’t back down. — The first knock is petty, weak, barely audible over the heavy bass thumping on the other side. You bite your lip, raising your fist once more, this time you give the wood a harsher tap. But still, nothing. You stand there for a moment, listening to the unfamiliar song playing and you wonder why he felt the need to drown himself in music as vile as that. Perhaps it was to quiet the undeniably gruesome thoughts you could only imagine filled his mind. 

“Beomgyu!” You shout his name, knuckles near hurting as they pound the door in front of you. Finally, the loud melody comes to an abrupt halt and you can hear him shuffling about inside his room, the soft padding of footsteps approaching and soon he reveals himself. — He looks the same as he always did, as he always had. Except he looks…different. You think it might have something to do with what you had heard him do the previous night. Because something was different, something was no longer the same. 

“What do you want?” He spits, the words sound almost like an accusation and you watch as his brows furrow, dark gaze narrowing down on you. Suddenly, you feel your composure crumble, the phrases you’d gone over in your head so many times on the way back home suddenly diminishing to nothing as you stand before him. Your lips part, for whatever excuse you could possibly find but Beomgyu beats you to the case. 

“If you’re here to complain about how you miss your daddy then I don’t give a shit.” 

Your mouth closes again, your brows mimicking his frown as you peer up at him. Is that what he thinks of you? Is that how he perceives you? As nothing more but a crybaby who can’t go a day without her father, who sobs herself to sleep in the absence of her mother? — “That’s not why I–” — “Like I said”, he cuts you off, his gaze hardening, “I don’t give a shit.” 

The grimace painting your face is surely unmistakable and your fists clench as you swallow back the insults waiting on your tongue. “Well I do”, you say, masking your otherwise trembling voice with firmness as you maintain the tense eye contact. Beomgyu appears, if not surprised then at least taken aback, his lip twitching as he lets out a short huff. He folds his arms over his chest, covering the print on his black t-shirt, seemingly waiting for you to continue. 

“I’m here to…to ask you..” You find yourself stumbling over your rehearsed lines, mind fumbling for a way to approach the situation without making it awkward for the both of you. Not wanting him to know that you’d heard him but also wanting him to be aware of the fact that you knew exactly what he’d been up to. — “What I want to say is, please keep it down..at…at night, some of us are trying to sleep you know..” 

Carefully you peek up at him, trying your hardest to subtly gauge his reaction. But Beomgyu only hums, his brows raising in play-pretend surprise as he leans against the doorframe. “Keep what down? It’s not exactly like I’m blasting music or anythin’” he muses. You shake your head, “that’s not what I’m asking, I’m asking you to keep it down when…when y-you you know..” 

The smirk slowly etching its way to his lips should’ve told you everything you needed to know. That he was just looking for ways to push you further, to rile you up and get you flustered, but for some reason it didn’t, and you kept going. — “When I what?” He wonders, eyes flickering over your guarded stance as you awkwardly shift in front of him, letting your weight fall on one leg. “Come on, you know what I mean”, you practically whine, not caring about how immature and childish you sounded as you avoided actually uttering the words out loud. 

“When I jack off?” He asks, his tone nonchalant as his hands slide down the pockets of his already low hanging jeans. You meekly nod, gaze dropping to the floor as your cheeks flush with color. “Y-Yeah that…you’re kind of..loud”, you cough, anxiously crossing your arms over your chest as you clear your throat. 

Beomgyu seems to be considering your words for a moment, his attention fixed on something behind you as he quietly hums. But then he leans forward, his face landing almost inches from your own and you can clearly see the smudged liner around his eyes now. “And you’ve got a problem with that?” He tilts his head to the side, studying you expectantly. 

“Come on now, sis”, he drawls and you cringe, hating how the word sounded on his lips. “You can’t possibly tell me that you’re not twice as loud when you touch yourself.” — The statement made your eyes blow wide as your jaw slacked. Feebly you shake your head in an attempt to deny his accusations. “I- No!” You shriek, taking a small step back as your hands wave in objection. “I don’t– I don’t do stuff…stuff like that..” 

Beomgyu’s smirk widens as he watches your apprehensive response, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Stuff like that?” He repeats, the sentence sickly sweet on his tongue. “You mean you’ve never played with yourself like that? How dull.” — You swallow, your throat suddenly feeling beyond parched as you shake your head once more. Was that so bad? Did that make you so different? You’d never understood the appeal, never felt those feelings, never even had a boyfriend. It shouldn’t matter should it? 

So why did it make Beomgyu look at you like that? Like you had just become something completely different in his eyes, something prized, something desirable. “Really?” He repeats, as if unbelieving of what he was currently hearing. Your quiet “no” is met by an even more menacing smirk as his tongue prods at the inside of his cheek. 

“Why, your daddy must be real’ proud of you then”, he grins and you feel your stomach twist. — “N-No he doesn’t care about stuff like that.” Because why would he? He was your father, sure you were close but some things were better off kept private. But it seemed no matter what you said could make the hungry look in his gaze go away and you felt your heart rate increase tenfold. 

Beomgyu merely scoffs, clearly not buying your truths. “Well then your daddy doesn’t know how much of life his daughter is truly missing out on.” — You frown, straightening your back if only slightly as you regard him with a hint of determination. “I’m not missing out on anything, to be frank, I’m quite happy the way I am right now.” You give a short pause, stopping only to give him a quick one over. “Not that the same can be said for you.” 

It feels good to watch his once smug expression morph into a much more scowl-like one as he lets out a short huff. When he doesn’t say anything, you feel a proud smirk crawling its way to your lips and you barely manage to conceal it as you turn to walk back to your room. — Only when you’ve reached your door, does he speak again, and you’re surprised to find him still lingering by his own doorway. 

“Do happy people cry everyday too, or is that just you?” 

⸝⸝

You’re unable to get his words out of your mind and you spend the majority of the following night mulling over them. “Do happy people cry everyday?” Do they? Was crying necessarily a bad thing? People cry when they’re happy too, people cry for a variety of reasons. Some merely sniffle,  some sob whilst others practically scream. Could happiness really be measured in tears or was that just something he’d said to get on your nerves, to have the last word? 

You lay tossing and turning in bed, your blanket bunching up around your legs before you eventually kicked it off again. — If only your mom was still around, she would be sure to have an answer, for she always did.. You nod to yourself as you mindlessly fiddle with the bracelet around your wrist.

Perhaps you were over analyzing his words, twisting and turning something completely meaningless for hours on end. But it was the only way you’d be able to feel at ease. You had a habit of trying to understand things on a deeper level, knowledge comforted you. It was why you nearly drowned yourself in your studies, why you spent so much time indulging in literature or film. It was your escape. 

Part of you supposed you should have Beomgyu completely figured out by now, with the way you memorized each snarky comment of his. But you never did, it felt like you knew nothing about him yet everything all at once. Maybe your knowledge of him was biased. You’d been quick to snap his picture, to paint a vision of him so sinister that you found it hard to view him any differently. — In your eyes, Beomgyu was a selfish and bad person, a person who did not feel empathy nor compassion for others. And perhaps that was why your theories about him seemed to lead you down the same path each time. 

But you didn't think that you were a close minded person… Was there really something you had missed, something you had overlooked? Was there more to Beomgyu than he let on to? 

You don’t have to ponder much longer for a quiet knock to your door rips you from the deep thoughts previously consuming your mind. With a small flinch you shot up from your bed, crawling back against the headboard as your eyes trained on the entryway to your room. For a moment you think it might be an intruder, but what kind of thief would knock? — Not only knock but proceed to open the door without waiting for a reply. You only knew one person so unthoughtful. 

Beomgyu’s shadow is dark, shielded from the dim luminance of the moon mere feet away from him as he stands in the doorway. One step forward would reveal his face entirely, and you find yourself both longing and dreading for him to move. — Why was he here? You guys made sure to avoid one another diligently so why was he willingly ruining it? 

“I can help you.” 

His voice is low, but he speaks clearly. A crease runs along your forehead as your brows pull into a frown. “Help me?” You repeat, the confusion evident in your tone as you shift against the pillow behind your back. Beomgyu nods, taking a bold step forward which casts an eerie glow across the side of his face. Your gaze flickers from his intense and dark eyes to his lips, pulled into a small smirk and your stomach drops. 

You knew why he was here. Because what other motive could he possibly have? — You had seen the way he treated those around him, you had witnessed the effect he had on his mom as she fell to her knees in tears, the way his words had sliced through you like daggers of a knife, shamelessly cutting your barely healed skin. Beomgyu made things around him die, every touch of his was poison, lethal. And now he had come to kill you too. 

It wasn’t like his sudden change in demeanor was unexpected, you knew that he was capable of breaking things, breaking people. He had just never paid you much attention because he thought you were already broken. The death of your mother slowly eating you away as you cried for her each night. — But you can tell he’s had a change of heart, the way his eyes rake across your body, barely concealed by the flimsy pajamas you wore, untainted, untouched, pure. Ready for him to kill. 

“I don’t need your help.” You try to evade him off, convince him that you were no object of his affection. But it was impossible. Beomgyu shakes his head, slowly approaching your bed before he takes a seat, causing the cushion beneath him to dip slightly. — “You don’t even know what I’m about to offer you”, he muses, fingers trailing up your exposed leg and you quickly withdraw it, stuffing it beneath the blanket. 

“I know that I do not need it”, you bite back, twisting your body as far away from him as possible. He huffs out a short breath, biting the inside of his cheek, seemingly in deep thought. You peer at him through the corner of your eye, lips curling into a small grimace. — “Do you plan on living in the dark forever then?” He finally wonders, his voice a mere murmur and you frown. “I could show you, show you the light”, he hums, fingers drumming against the mattress leisurely. 

You’re unable to hide the scoff you emit before turning back to face him. “You couldn’t find light if it so much as presented itself in front of you.” Beomgyu’s jaw visibly clenches at your words, his hand stilling against the bed as his gaze flickers up to meet yours, an underlying twinge of curiosity lingering behind his otherwise cold and emotionless eyes. —  “No? And why’s that?” 

Your lip twitches, a small grimace of pure disgust threatening to overtake your entire face as you regard him with disdain. “Because something as dark and twisted as you cannot possibly seek light. You repell it.” 

The last sentence rings out in the silent air, and you watch as the intrigue in his eyes becomes put out like that of a dying fire. His expression contorted into the one you knew so well, the cruel one, the one that hurt people. “What, and you think you’re some kind of saint?” He jeers, trying to mask where your words had evidently stung. — Were you a saint? Hardly. But you didn’t hurt the people around you just because you could, just because life had treated you unfairly. That was the difference between you and Beomgyu. 

“You know what I think of you?” He says, the bed squeaking as he leans forward, dangerously close. “I think you’re scared.” He drawls, eyes boring into your own with so much vigor that you almost felt pity for the anger that consumed him. How miserable he must be to live like that. — “I’m not scared.” You calmly state, shifting against the pillows as you instinctively try to create distance between the two of you. Quickly taking note of your hesitant body language, he smirks, “no? Then prove it.”

“Prove that you’re not afraid of the darkness, of my darkness.” 

You remain silent for a moment, watching as he awaits your answer, your next course of action. Was this a bad idea? Probably. You had told yourself over and over that you wouldn’t let yourself get consumed by him, become tainted by his flawed hands. Yet you find yourself reaching for the blanket covering your body, pulling it from your legs as you discard it on the floor. Beomgyu follows the movement with an amused look, an almost wicked one before his smokey eyes snap back to yours. 

“Fine”, you say, adjusting yourself on the bed as you let your hands fall to your sides, “show me.” The simple statement makes his face twist into a look of pure smugness and Beomgyu wastes no time in scooting closer, fingers wrapping around both of your wrists as he positions himself before you. “You have no idea what you’re asking of me”, he murmurs, his lip twitching into a sinister grin as he does. It was almost as if your obliviousness spurred him on, your naivety making his mind reel. 

His breath is warm on your face as he studies you closely, from the way blood rushes beneath your cheeks to your eyelashes fluttering as you try to focus with him so close. “Have you ever kissed someone before?” He asks, the underlying curiosity in his words palpable. You try to think of any occasion in which you might’ve, but after a good moment you shake your head. “Only once…in middle school, a smell peck on the lips..” You admit, albeit a little sheepishly. 

The smirk on his face only widened, exposing his sharp teeth as Beomgyu chuckled. “That doesn’t count”, he states, seemingly pleased with your answer, with your honesty, your trust. Biting your bottom lip, you swallow before nodding slowly. “I’ll show you how to.” He then mumbles, and suddenly his nose is practically grazing yours. You suck in a sharp breath, eyes widening as you watch his confident ones. 

Then his lips press against your own, and they’re surprisingly soft. At first he remained still, completely unmoving and you wondered what on god's green earth he was doing. But soon he lets his eyes close, one of his hands letting go of your wrist as he cups your cheek. The small caress makes your eyes widen further and you resist the urge to pull back. Unsure of what to do with yourself, you hesitantly respond to the tentative kiss, letting your eyes flutter shut as well. 

You knew that you shouldn’t be doing this, that it was wrong, taboo even. He was your step brother.. at least he was bound to be once your parents got married. Guilt roots itself in the pits of your stomach, making it twist and turn uncomfortably as you try to relax in his grip. — He doesn’t push you any further and it takes you by surprise. Instead he lets his lips linger on top of yours, and when he pulls away moments later, a small pecking sound follows it. You watch through lidded eyes as his narrowed gaze studies you, the hand on your cheek moving to your chin. 

“How was it?” He wonders, as if expecting a review of some sort. Your mouth parts but you can’t seem to find the words. How could you describe the shame and the guilt? How could you ever verbalize the way his soft lips had felt on yours, such a thing was impossible. — “It felt weird..” Your hushed whisper echoes out like church bells in your ears and you remain very aware of the way his fingers reside around your chin, locking your face in place. 

Beomgyu lets out a short breath, his thumb pulling your bottom lip down as his gaze catches onto your exposed teeth. “First time always feels weird”, he states and before you get to prepare yourself, he dives right back in, except this time he goes straight for the kill. — You let out a small yelp as he pries your mouth open, immediately slipping his wet tongue inside to slide against yours. You can still taste the minty toothpaste on him and the sensation of something so wet and…alive, in your mouth, makes you cringe. 

You still allow him to kiss you, to push you back against the pillows as his hands roam your body, his poisonous touch spreading across your skin like wildfire. You knew that this was exactly what he wanted, to ruin something so perfectly pure, to take something from you that you could never get back. And for some reason, you let him. — Only when his hand reaches the waistband of your pajama shorts do you stop him, eyes wide as you push him back. 

“Wait.” 

The kiss breaks with a wet sound and a small string of saliva still connects the two of you. Struggling to find a suitable approach to the matter, you let your gaze drop to his chest, heaving a small sigh as you bite your lip. “I…I don’t know if…I mean I haven’t..” Honestly you didn’t even know what you were getting at yourself, you supposed you wanted to prolong the moment, if just a moment longer. 

Beomgyu regards you with an expression you don’t think you’d ever seen on him before; a mixture of both intrigue and desire. “Are you scared?” He wonders and without thinking, you nod. His lips stretch wide, the hand on your shorts moving to your inner thigh as he gives it a light squeeze and you nearly flinch at the touch. “Good”, he huffs, his fingers venturing beneath the fabric of your pajamas as he gauges your reaction closely. 

When he pulls your shorts down, you gingerly try and conceal yourself, your cheeks flushing in all shades of red as your thighs squeeze shut. “Don’t be embarrassed”, he tsk’s, his hands on your knees as he firmly spreads them. — “I’ve seen plenty of pussies before”, he merely shrugs, “yours won’t be any different.” His reassurance didn’t help ease much of your worries as you let him pry your legs open. 

He starts slow, and you’re thankful; his index and middle finger gently rubbing you through the soft cotton of your panties and you resist the urge to hide your face as you squirm against him. — It wasn’t like you’d never touched yourself, because you had…you think. Like any other young teenager you’d experimented a little with your body, but as an inexperienced 15-year old, the results had proved futile. You never had the urge you suppose, you didn’t even know how it was supposed to feel like. But as Beomgyu touches you through your underwear, a strange feeling mingles alongside the guilt and shame in your stomach. 

His eyes are on you, on only you, watching as you bite your bottom lip, your hands fidgeting with the bed sheets as you try to suppress the small noises bubbling in your throat. Not until his fingers find your clit, rubbing it deliberately through your panties, do you let out a small squeak. “Is…Is it supposed to feel like that?” — Beomgyu’s dark gaze shifts from your spread legs and over to your wide stare. He nods, “does it feel good?” 

“Strange..” You quietly whisper, though you made no move to stop him as his index finger hooks around the waistband of your underwear. “Yeah?” He murmurs, taking his time as he slowly pulls the piece of garment from your body, letting it slide along your legs before he discards it on the floor. “You’ll get used to it”, he muses, eyes shifting to your exposed cunt as they visibly darken, “it comes with experience.” 

You had no clue what to expect, what to feel, how to respond. Your whole body felt tense as his cold fingers brushed against your naked skin, inching their way up and suddenly it felt like you were under a microscope, every single part of you being presented under a stark light. Beomgyu on the other hand, seems far more at ease as he lets two of his fingers swipe across your cute folds, teasingly pushing them apart as he slowly rubs you. 

It takes everything in you not to cringe at the weird and damp feeling pooling between your legs, the consistent throb of your cunt and the small cry you emit as he flicks over your clit once more. He sighs, “virgin pussies are my favorite”, his gaze shifts to his already glistening fingers, “they get wet so easily.” — You merely let out a small whimper at his words, thigh involuntarily twitching, the movement immediately catching his eye as his lips curl into a smirk. 

“W-Wait!” You croak as you suddenly feel him prodding against your fluttering hole, your muscles taut as you shift on the bed. Beomgyu stops, hand resting against your core as he studies you with an indifferent expression. “W-Won’t that hurt?” It felt embarrassing to ask, but the thought of him pushing something inside of you…it scared you. — But Beomgyu only shrugs. “It might”, he drawls, his fingers resuming their work on your cunt as he repositions his index one right above the tight rim of muscle, “depends on how bad you want me.” 

Want him? You didn’t know if you wanted him, it wasn’t like you liked him, right? You hated Beomgyu, you’d hated him for two years. You hated how he treated his mother, how he treated you, with such coldness and such little empathy. You hated how he made you cry, how he made you feel small and weak. You hated how he made you feel bad for grieving your own mother. 

But as your gaze shifts to his face, and as you will yourself to look past the cruelty, the darkness, you can still make out the boy you met that night, the one you’d had a small and what you thought was an insignificant crush on. From the black charcoal around his eyes, to the silver jewelry bored into his eyebrow; his black hair, nearly reaching his shoulders now, and his dark eyes, his eyes that both scared and intrigued you. 

You gasp when he without warning pushes his finger past your folds, immediately curling it inside of you, making your back arch off the bed in sheer surprise. Beomgyu’s attention is solely on your flushed face, watching in contentment as you writher under his touch, as you slowly lose yourself. — “O-Oh..” Is all you manage to squeak out between the ragged breaths. It felt weird and uncomfortable, but it didn't hurt, instead the fluttering sensation in your stomach only seemed to grow. 

“Such a greedy pussy”, Beomgyu hums as he feels you pulsate around his finger, “sucking me in like a complete whore.” You shake your head, “I-I’m not..” The words die in your throat as he adds he slides a second digit past your tight rim, making you shriek as he stretches your cunt. 

His touch felt poisonous but you couldn’t find it in you to push him off, to tell him to stop. No matter how many times you told yourself how wrong it was, you couldn’t help but slowly succumb to the darkness that was Beomgyu. Wanting, no needing, more. It was as if he’d introduced you to a most dangerous drug, and you find yourself desperately seeking another fix, a stronger one. 

Your short nails have torn the bright sheets covering the mattress, and your arms tremble as you lock eyes with him. Satisfactory, that was the only way you could describe the expression painting his face. You don’t think you’d ever seen Beomgyu as anything but angry, but this…this was far from it. He looks ready to devour you whole, his brooding eyes fixating on the way your jaw slacked, your saliva coated lips parted and your eyebrows drawn together in such an endearing manner. 

“Feel good?” He wonders, his brow twitching slightly when his thumb presses against your clit, eliciting a high pitched moan from you as you squirm against him. “I’ll take that as a yes”, he drawls and before you know it, his fingers are gone, making a sloppy sound as they withdraw from your cunt. You whine, hips bucking up in an attempt to seek his touch and your cheeks flare up in color. “W-Why did you stop..?” You pathetically wonder, biting the inside of your cheek, thinking that you had possibly done something wrong. 

Beomgyu doesn’t say anything as he brings his sticky fingers to his face, inhaling your scent before shoving them into his mouth. Your jaw falls open in bewilderment, how could he just do something like that so…casually. — “Come on now princess, we’ve only just gotten started.” 

Even more? 

Your already wide eyes dilate even further, completely forgetting to be angry over the nickname he’d used as his hand dips inside the waistband of his sweats, pulling his hard cock from his briefs. It wasn’t like you were a total prude, you knew what a dick looked like, you just…had never seen one up close. — Beomgyu takes his time as he wraps his fingers around its base, languidly stroking himself as pearly beads of what you could only assume to be precum spilled from the slit on top. 

The thought of having that inside of you makes your throat go dry and you shift uncomfortably on the bed. “Come on now, sis, don’t grow shy on me”, he drawls, stifling a groan as his thumb flicks over his tip. The knot in your stomach returns and you shoot him a glare, “I am not your ‘sis’”, you state through gritted teeth. But Beomgyu only chuckles before leaning forward, his face drawing in close once more. With one hand still on his cock, the other one presses flat against the mattress as he hovers in front of you. 

“Lie down.” 

His sharp command sends a shiver down your spine and you hesitantly comply, awkwardly sliding yourself down between his parted legs until only your head remains perched on the pillow. From this angle, Beomgyu’s long hair falls in front of his face and you resist the urge to reach up and brush it away. Instead your nervous eyes flicker to his cock as he gently taps it against your inner thigh. Your gaze lingers on the way his arousal spills onto your naked skin and suddenly a wave of realization washes over you. 

“Shouldn’t we use a condom?” You whisper, biting the inside of your cheek as your attention flits back to the smug expression on his face. “Why? That takes away half the fun”, he hums, letting his tip part your puffy folds as he nudges it against your throbbing clit. “H-ah b-but isn’t it unsafe?” You whine, unable to keep from grinding against him, desperately seeking his touch. 

Beomgyu lets out an exasperated sigh, reaching a hand up to run through his slightly disheveled hair. “Don’t tell me you’re scared”, he grunts, his fingers clasping around your chin, pulling your face so that it rests inches from his. Your breath is uneven and jagged as you reluctantly meet his gaze, a quiet “no” spilling from your lips. — He grins, tongue dragging across the bottom row of teeth in his mouth, “such a terrible liar.” 

You don’t have time to think, much less act before the head of his cock pushed past the rim of taut muscle as he slid inside your warm cunt, almost immediately groaning at how you wrapped around him so deliciously. — “Fuck, you really are a virgin aren’t you?” He breathes, lips hovering above yours and you weakly nod. The stretch of his thick cock making you go near cross eyed as you grasped at his shoulders. It was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before and you were sure that Beomgyu enjoyed every second of it. 

He had been the first, the first one to get his hands on you, to spew his poison all over your pure and innocent virgin body, and he would make sure to do so thoroughly. His mouth is on your neck, tongue licking at your skin and you cringe away from the action but he doesn’t falter, lips immediately chasing yours as he keeps you in place. The kiss is rougher than the previous, hungry and disoriented as Beomgyu messily jerks his hips against yours. Your nails dig into the apex of his shoulders and his name echoes through in the pristine bedroom as you moan out in pleasure. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum right away if you keep that up”, he grunts, fingers digging into your cheeks as he withdraws from your lips. Your eyes widen as you feebly try and shake your head, dreading for him to finish inside. But he doesn’t, instead he redirects his focus to your neck, resuming what he’d been doing as his tongue darts out to swipe across its juncture. You squeal when his teeth graze your skin, the hands on his shoulders moving to his dark hair. 

The marks he left on your untouched skin were bound to linger for at least a couple of days, he made sure of that. Reveling in the fact that you’d let him in, let him close, allowed him to take something so precious, something that you had been clinging on to for so long. He would have you, all of you, even if only once, he would be sure to leave an impression. 

And you know that you should feel ashamed, feel guilty, dirty even. But something feels different, something about him, about Beomgyu. It’s not the Beomgyu you loathed, the Beomgyu who’d made you cry, the Beomgyu who made you feel worthless. — None of the anger, the hatred, the fire; none of that lingered right now. And had it not been for his sharp teeth on your skin and his rough pace as his cock rammed into your throbbing cunt, the moment might’ve even been tender. 

There’s an unfamiliar feeling building in the pits of your stomach and it had long since overridden the previous shame and guilt. Unsure of what to make of it, you desperately tug on Beomgyu’s hair, eventually making his head raise from your chest with a small frown, the liner around his eyes even more smudged than usual now. — “I’m…I…” your face turns beet red as you stumble over your words, not knowing how to express yourself. 

He licks his already wet lips, his pace momentarily slowing and you whimper at the discomfort soaring through your body. “You close?” He asks, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your sweaty forehead. You open your mouth only to close it again, nodding sheepishly as your hands twist in his hair. Beomgyu groans as he lets his fingers slide down your stomach, reaching where your bodies connected like one, middle finger rubbing your clit menacingly as he watches you arch against him with a broken moan. 

Your first ever orgasm felt out of this world, your cunt clenching around his cock with such vigor that you thought you might cry, a string of incoherent and high pitched whines ripping from your throat as you pull Beomgyu close, and for the first time, you’re the one initiating the kiss as you slam your lips on his. — He groans into your mouth, letting you slide your tongue against his, albeit a little awkwardly as you had no clue of what you were doing. 

Finally, as your climax comes to an end, you find yourself relaxing against the mattress, the fingers in his hair loosening their grip as you allow yourself to kiss him slowly. — “F-Fuck princess”, he grunts, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth before letting go. You respond by eagerly raising your hips to meet his, wincing at how sensitive you felt as his cock twitched inside of you. “Fuck, fuck, wait”, he breaths, tearing himself from you as he swiftly pulls out with a small hiss. 

In your euphoric state, your eyes drift to his hand wrapped around his shaft, quickly jerking himself off as his gaze fixates on your wet cunt. Then he notices you, his lips curling into a wicked grin as he reaches for your wrist, “come here”, he urges as he guides the flat of your hand to wrap around his cock. — Blinking, your attention flits between his expectant face and his heavy dick in your grasp as you contemplate your next move. It wasn’t like you’d ever done something like this before but it looked easy enough when he was doing it. 

With determination you begin to carefully stroke him, biting the inside of your cheek at the squelching sound erupting as his arousal smeared across your fingers. Beomgyu’s hips jerk forward and your movements stutter. — “H-ah, fucking hell d-don’t stop”, he groans, his jaw slacked as his eyes tightly squeezed shut. A quiet “sorry” slips from your lips and your pace returns as you work to get him off. 

“F-Fuck go a bit faster, yeah?” He mutters, his hand joining in on top of yours as he ups the intensity. Merely following his command, you grip him tighter, drawing a strained moan from him as your fingers drag across his tip. — It made you feel oddly powerful, seeing him like this, his otherwise indifferent face completely flushed, and instead of presenting himself with a mean scowl, he looked to be in complete bliss as he let his head fall back. 

A final twitch of his causes hot liquid to spurt from his throbbing cock, the white substance coating both your hand and lower abdomen. He heaves a sigh and you feel him slowly go soft in your hand before you pull it away. Beomgyu runs his fingers through his hair, parting it before letting his arm drop back down, his gaze landing on the mess on your stomach. He tsk’s spreading the sticky fluid across your skin. “What would your daddy think if he saw you like this, hm?” He murmurs, licking his lips before bringing his cum-coated fingers to your face. 

You shake your head, without the waves of pleasure sparking through you, the shame and the guilt suddenly crawled right back. “I- I don’t want to talk about him..” You whine, trying to force the image of your father out of your mind. — “His beautiful princess, completely ruined by something so…what did you say I was? Dark?” 

Without warning he pushes his wet fingers inside your mouth, making you cringe at the salty taste of him. “I bet your daddy would hate you forever”, Beomgyu finally states, watching as you frown, lips closing around the digits in your mouth. — And when he finally withdraws them, you splutter, “my father doesn’t hate me, but yours seem to do.” 

Beomgyu’s jaw twitches, his lips curling up into a small scowl and the desire previously filling the air slowly simmers out. You knew that he wanted you to feel just as miserable as he did. But you wouldn’t let him, you wouldn’t let him get to you like that. — Half expecting an insult thrown your way, you’re surprised when he merely tucks himself back into his sweats, rising from the bed as he regards you with dark eyes. “Fine, keep living with such fantasies and we’ll see just how long it takes for them to get crushed.” 

Without as much as another word, he leaves your room, the door slamming shut behind him as the small house falls under an eerie silence once more. 

⸝⸝

Your parents came home two days later, and though you wanted to say that things had changed between you and Beomgyu after your…night together, it was safe to say that they hadn’t. At least not on his part. You on the other hand, couldn’t get the feeling of his hands off of your body, it was like he’d permanently imprinted himself on your skin. It feels disgusting, and you had spent three hours in the shower the morning after, vigorously trying to scrub the venom from your system. But it never worked, his touch lingered like that of a tattoo, forever sealed onto you. You could never take back what had happened that night. 

For some reason, a small part of you doesn’t want to. 

Beomgyu avoided you, and when he wasn’t avoiding you he was glaring. His dark and piercing eyes followed your every move whenever you were in his field of vision. But there was something else too, a sense of superiority. — He knew that you were constantly dealing with the consequences of that night, he could see the way your mind haunted you with the memories, and he took pride in watching the shame and the guilt practically eat you alive. — He was on top of the world and you were scrambling to even get by. 

So one could easily imagine your surprise when one evening, you found him in a state you never thought you’d ever get to witness. 

It was late, but your small family had yet to eat dinner, and you watched as Ms Choi darted across the kitchen, in full with preparing your meal. You helped her set the table as you laughed at a couple of your dad’s terrible and overused jokes. It had taken a whole of three days for you to be able to look him in the eye after he’d come home, and you still felt terrible whenever you caught him and Ms Choi sharing a kiss; knowing that one tiny slip of your lips could manage to ruin something so perfect. 

You trusted that Beomgyu wouldn’t utter as much as a single breath about what had transpired that night, but you still startled when his mother taps your shoulder, whipping around as you come face to face with her. — “Dear, do you mind fetching Beomgyu, dinner’s almost ready”, she smiled, that warm and comforting smile she so often gave her son, only to receive a mere huff in return. You nod, slowly making your way out of the kitchen as you head for the hallway, dreading having to speak to him, much less in private. 

The steps creak under your weight as you drag yourself up the stairs, drawing out the moment for as long as possible before you inevitably reach his door. With a small sigh, you knock. There’s no music coming from the other side and you frown, what’s up with him? — Another knock, but nothing. You bite the inside of your cheek, a wave of frustration crashing over you at the thought of having to call out for him. 

“Beomgyu?” 

A third knock. You wait for at least a minute but there’s nothing, just silence. Perhaps he’d fallen asleep, still, you should wake him and let him know that dinner was ready, Ms Choi had asked you after all. — Your hand is near trembling as you grasp the handle, twisting it before pushing the door open. Slowly adjusting to the darkness of his room, you peer inside. But to your surprise, he wasn’t there. 

Your footsteps make a thumping sound as you hurry down the stairs. If he wasn’t in his room then…Your gaze flickers toward the dining room and kitchen before settling on the front door. “Did he mention anything about going out?” You call out for Ms Choi and she soon appears in the doorway, a bowl of salad in her hands. “No, is he not in his room?” She wonders, her face quickly falling. 

Noting her worried expression you quickly shake your head as you try and reassure her. “I’m sure he just went for a walk, I’ll go check.” — Your dad’s girlfriend gives a small nod as her gaze, too, flickers toward the door. “Alright..” 

⸝⸝ 

The cool night air hits your face and you mutter a few curses under your breath, scolding yourself for offering to do something like that when the last thing you wanted was to be out in this cold. — As you walk down the graveled path you let out a tired groan, what were you even thinking coming out here? It wasn’t like he was just going to magically appear or something. Fucking asshole, had the nerve to leave without a word and now you had to go looking for him. 

But as you push the small fence gate open and turn out and onto the street, a familiar scene flashes before your eyes. Nostalgia fills your every fiber as your eyes fall on Beomgyu’s figure, perched on the sidewalk as he hugs his knees to his chest, just like he had that night, that night two years ago. — But something was different. That night, the one where you had learned to hate him, it had been a warm night, and Beomgyu had been burning with rage. Today, the air is much colder, and Beomgyu is no longer on fire, instead he’s shivering, his whole body quivering as small sobs escape his soft lips.  

You freeze at the sight, breath catching in your throat as you regard his almost pathetic frame, curling in on itself as his fingers dig into the flesh of his calves. Part of you wants to leave him there, perhaps even make fun of him, it was most tempting to finally get back at him for the way he’d ruined you. — But you weren’t Beomgyu. And you wouldn’t do that. 

Instead you find yourself slowly approaching, and just like that night two years ago, you slide down next to him on the cold pavement. He doesn’t seem to register that you’re there, and you sit in silence for a brief moment before addressing him. — “Beomgyu?” — His head jerks at the quiet whisper of his name, his usually narrowed eyes wide in shock as they flicker over to you. His cheeks are wet, stained with his tears and the liner around his eyes had run down his face in messy streaks. A few strands of hair stick to his forehead and his lip trembles as he sucks in a sharp breath. 

“Leave me the fuck alone.” He croaks, but his voice comes out weak and raspy. His hands wipe at his face, but it only spreads the mess already there even further and he lets out a frustrated groan. — You don’t say anything, because last time you tried to comfort him you only ended up getting hurt. Instead your gaze flits to his discarded phone between the two of you. The screen was broken, likely from him smashing it on the asphalt beneath. You frown as it suddenly comes to life, vibrating against the hard ground. The bright screen illuminates the dim street and your eyes land on the caller-ID. 

“Dad.” 

Beomgyu doesn’t make a move to answer, merely turning his head away as he continues to sob into his arms. “Don’t”, he mutters as he sees you reaching for the device, “he’s drunk.” — You purse your lips but your fingers still clasp around the phone, your thumb swiping to decline the call. Upon being presented with his lockscreen, you can make out at least another fifteen missed ones. Your chest churns at the scene, for whatever reason, you do not know. The bright light vanishes as you power off his phone completely, tossing it to the side as you stretch your legs out in front of you on the pavement. 

It takes him about a minute to lift his head from his arms and his breath is still uneven as he speaks. “What does he want?” — Biting your lip, you gaze ahead, tracing the outlines of each car parked down the street, memorizing their plate numbers. You didn’t know how to answer his question, so you remained silent. Beomgyu shuffles next to you, mimicking your movement of unfolding his legs. “I bet he wants money..” He then adds in a snarky tone, wiping his face once more as he snivels, “money to sponsor his fucking addiction.” 

You throw a quick glance in the direction of his discarded phone. “Why do you still have his number?” It was obvious that he didn’t like his father, so why let him bother him like that. Beomgyu shakes his head solemnly, his fingers twisting against one another as he opens his mouth only to close it again. “Wouldn’t it be better to block him?” — “I can’t.” He suddenly exclaims, turning to you with a small frown. 

Why not? Why let something like that plague you, why not just cut it off, why not just let go? 

It was then you realized that perhaps you and Beomgyu shared a lot more than you’d initially wanted to admit.. Your eyes drop to the bracelet around your wrist, the silver glinting under the moon. — When your attention returns to him, you find him already watching you, his gaze following yours as it resided by the jewelry on your arm. You think he might make another comment about it, but he doesn’t, instead he merely sighs as he runs a hand through his hair. 

“I think..” You begin, your voice a quiet whisper as you stare past him, eyes drifting off into the distance as you let the words roll off your tongue. “I think you’re stuck on what could’ve been rather than what you have.” Beomgyu doesn’t say anything, his gaze mindlessly dropping to his hands in front of him as he bites the inside of his cheek. “What I have”, he mutters with a small frown, clearly not intended for you to hear but you did. 

“You have your mom.” 

He scoffs, already anticipating your next self-victimizing rant about how yours was dead. “My mom is-” 

“A wonderful person.” Your statement catches him off guard and his attention shifts back to your face as he studies you with a look of wariness. “And you would see that if you spared her more than a glare”, you continue as you watch his skeptical expression. — You had never felt anything besides hatred for Beomgyu, and you had been so blinded by your rage that in a way, you had become almost exactly like him. But as you finally take a step back to view him completely, his disheveled frame, his slumped shoulders and runny makeup — pity washes over you, the same pity you had felt on that night two years ago; the night everything went wrong. 

“Stop holding her accountable for his mistakes.” 

You can see the twitch of his face at your words, as if he wanted to refuse them, to lash out on you, but he didn’t. Instead he looks to you with the most sorrowful look you’d ever witnessed on him. — “How do I do that?” He wonders, his voice is thick, laced with his previous tears. Biting your tongue, you hold back from saying what you thought he wasn’t ready to hear but Beomgyu clings to you, his hands wrapping around the fabric of your shirt, his grip near trembling. 

“I miss my mom.” He whispers, his voice breaking as a lonesome droplet falls down his cheek, slicing through the dark smear of charcoal on his face. Your jaw falls open, stunned by the way his resolve so suddenly crumbled. And as you heard the words leave his lips, “i miss my mom”, you could practically feel every single one of his emotions as they washed over him in thunderous waves. — You missed your mom too, you missed her terribly. 

He hiccups, his tears creating a damp spot on the shoulder of your shirt. “H-How do I get her back..?” The question comes out muffled as he grips you tightly. “Please…I want my mom back.” — Your eyes sting and you feel yourself slowly losing your composure as you draw in a ragged breath. With a small push of your hands, you manage to create some distance between the two of you, enough to where you could see his wet face, his glossy eyes and swollen lips. 

“You have to let him go.” 

You reach for his phone, powering it back on. Beomgyu looks hesitant as he wipes his eyes, exhaling shakily when you extend the device to him. “The longer you let him ruin you the more you and those around you will suffer.” — With wobbly fingers he grasps his phone, slowly finding his dad’s contact info. He wavers, thumb hovering above the block button as he bites his bottom lip. 

You don’t know why you felt the need to help him, why you felt like you had to comfort him, reassure him. — “You’ve said it yourself haven’t you? Some people don’t deserve children.” His gaze flickers up to meet yours at the statement, a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. “Don’t let him have that privilege”, you say as you let your hand rest on top of his. 

Beomgyu slowly nods, reluctantly pressing the dreadful button as he erases his father from his life. He purses his lips, breathing out through his nose as he stares at the screen for a minute, as if contemplating his next move. — “He’s gone.” He finally states, the frown on his face only deepening as he swallowed thickly. 

“Sometimes it’s better that way”, you mumble, letting go of his hand as you lean back, your gaze dropping to the bracelet around your wrist. 

Your heart pounds loudly in your chest, blood rushing through your body as you reach for the small lock, carefully unclasping the piece of sacred jewelry. Beomgyu and you…You weren’t so different, you think. And if he could do something, something like that, then who says you couldn’t? 

His eyes are on you, watching intently as you with shaky hands let the bracelet fall from your skin, feeling oddly empty without it. — It feels light in your hand, and you wondered how something so significant could weigh so little. It made it easier to let go. — Beomgyu lets you grab his wrist, the frown on his face creasing further when you tie the silver around him. 

“Now she’s gone too.” 

You give him a small smile, meeting his wide eyes as they shift from the bracelet around his wrist and your relieved expression. 

It’s without thinking that you lean in, softly pressing your lips against his in a small kiss. But this time you didn’t feel guilty, nor did you feel dirty or ashamed. Instead it felt nice, it felt like closure. Letting your eyes flutter closed, feeling his warm and damp skin against your own, a stark contrast to the cold night surrounding you. Beomgyu lets you kiss him without protest and you feel the faint caress of fingers to your cheek. 

When you pull away he chases after you, only to be stopped by the palm of your hand on his chest as you shake your head. “It’s not like that. You know it too.” Your soft whisper makes his jaw clench, his fingers dropping from your face as they curl into fists. Then he nods, the corner of his lips pulling upwards, “yeah.” 

Gingerly rising to your feet, you dust some off the dirt from your jeans before your attention returns to him, still perched on the sidewalk. — Your outstretched hand is met by the raise of his eyebrow and you roll your eyes, “come on, I think there’s someone who would like to talk to you.” Beomgyu frowns but takes your hand nonetheless as he lets you pull him up. 

You walk like that, hand in hand, and it feels nice. Your heart sinks a little at the thought that it could’ve been like this from the start, had things worked out differently. But as you turn to walk through the small fence gate, and your eyes fall on Ms Choi, anxiously waiting by the front door, you find yourself smiling. And instead of grieving what you could’ve had, you would focus on what you did have. 

Beomgyu audibly swallows next to you as his gaze surveys his mother, and as Ms Choi notices the two of you approaching, her face lights up. — With a final squeeze of his hand, you let him go. It was satisfactory in itself to see him walk up to his mom, letting her wrap her arms around him for the first time in what you could only guess to be years. But they both made it look so natural as they fell into each other’s embrace. And it only confirmed what you had known for so long.

That Beomgyu was and had always been, a mommy’s boy.

taglist ✎... @jjklvr9 @beomies-world @hyukaaa @ninoshome1 @gardnhee @babymochibeargyu @lunathewritingcat @duckywuckypookiepie @naoristerling @oddracha @soohashits @junimoa03 @sendhelpiloveyeonjun @beomtasticc @gudboibeomgyu @flowzel @hwanghyunjinismybae @inkigayocamman @sthwaaberry @izzyy-stuff @silentisle @itaehynz @blossommi @sunghxxnie @plumgyu @sweetpotatogyu

(if your tag is not working please check your settings to make sure that your blog is not hidden!)

→ want to get notified whenever a new dream is published? join my TAGLIST ᰔ © all rights reserved ─ @beomiracles 2024

[pathologicalreid]

for the fear of falling apart | part four

you missed the paperwork that said joining the BAU meant having an unstable personal life, and Cat Adams is dedicated to making sure you know nothing is ever private

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue

series masterlist

who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: angst content warnings: fear of drowning, couples counseling, spencer's mommy issues, takes place during 15x6 "date night", pregnancy and miscarriage, stillbirth, sexual assault, way too many ellipses, suicide, attempted murder, reader's daddy issues, details from the dirty dozen plotline, mishandled apologies, a lot of yapping, near drowning, disassociation, self harm word count: 9.75k a/n: i hate cat adams so much but god she is so funny in this episode. also cat and spencer shippers are not welcome. why does he look so good in this gif. this is the extent of my coherent thoughts.

“I just made the bed,” you complained halfheartedly, still allowing yourself to be tugged over to the bed despite your protests.

Climbing up on the bed, you tucked yourself into Spencer’s side, so cold after getting out of bed that you wished you could absorb his body heat. “C’mere,” he muttered, placing his hands on either side of your waist and pulling you over him, the two of you meeting face to face. “Hi pretty,” he greeted, craning his head up to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

You smiled slightly against his lips, ducking your head so that your mouths never separated. Mornings away from the bureau were few and far between, so you weren’t interested in wasting a single moment. “Good morning,” you whispered before bringing your lips back to his.

When the phone started to ring, Spencer’s hands fell from your waist in disappointment. He leaned his head back while you rolled off the bed and handed him his phone which he begrudgingly answered, “Hey, what’s up?”

With the phone on speaker, you heard Emily’s voice ring through the phone, “We have a case, it’s urgent,” concern oozed through her tone as you pulled your blazer on over your blouse.

“Alright, we’ll be right in,” he responded for the both of you. Most of the time, they only needed to call one of you.

Emily cleared her throat, “Spencer, there’s something you need to know.”

The thirty-minute drive from the district to Quantico was silent. You decided to drive, not wanting to worry about the metro when there was so much on the line. Barely having put the car in park, Spencer was already flying out of the car and to the elevator.

Several questions rested like a weight on the tip of your tongue and part of you hoped that this was all part of a morbid prank, but you knew when it came to Cat, it was never a joke. Purposefully being the first two people there, you followed Spencer to where Prentiss and Rossi were waiting in the roundtable room, “Catch us up,” he said, walking through the doorway and beginning to study the information on the screen.

“Early this morning Garcia got an email from an anonymous server,” Emily began, looking between the both of you with concern in her eyes.

Dave nodded next to her, “She’s not obscuring her face, telling us she’s got nothing to hide.”

Next to you, Spencer nodded, slipping both of his hands into his pockets, “Any ideas on the victims or UnSub?”

Chewing nervously on the inside of your lip, you looked at the screen carefully. The photo displayed two girls, one of them a teenager, maybe eighteen, and the other couldn’t be much older than ten. You didn’t speak, waiting for the words that you have heard over the phone to be spoken in person.

“No, only the UnSub’s demand that we release Catherine Adams within twenty-four hours. I’m having her transferred here for questioning,” she informed Spencer, “But we have no illusions. This is just a game to her, we know that. The question is, do we want to play it or not?”

In your periphery, you watched the remaining members of the team funnel into the bullpen, each of them placing their belongings on their respective desks before setting up for the day. Glancing back at Spencer, you shrugged almost indeterminably, “Do we have a choice?”

Spencer met your stare before looking back at Emily and Rossi, “Could you guys give us a minute?”

The both of them nodded, switching off the screen before heading out, presumably to begin briefing the remainder of the unit. You listened to the click of the door, waiting for Spencer to say anything.

“I don’t want you in there,” he told you.

You weren’t shocked by his request. When he was released from prison he had wanted to keep you near, going so far as to have you fly with him and your sister to Mount Pleasant because after three months he couldn’t bear to be separated. However, he didn’t want you in the observation room, so you stayed on the sidelines while he spoke with Cat, only hearing bits and pieces after the fact.

Once you nodded, Spencer took a deep breath, “I don’t want her to be able to use you against me. If she even gets the slightest idea that you’re behind the glass… I don’t know what she’ll do.”

Most members of the BAU had their One. The one UnSub that would likely haunt them for the rest of their lives, for Emily it was Ian Doyle, for Rossi it was Tommy Yates, and for Spencer it was Cat. “I’ll stay in the bullpen,” you reassured him, “I won’t leave the building, but I don’t need to listen in.”

“Thank you,” he murmured, pressing a timid kiss to your hairline before looking over to where Emily was waving him over.

Grimly, you followed Spencer out of the roundtable room, armed guards pouring through the elevator, signifying that the eagle had landed. You stopped at the glass doors, nestling yourself behind a wall – you didn’t need to see her, and she didn’t deserve to see you.

“She’s a contract killer?” Matt questioned as Spencer, Emily, and Rossi headed to the interrogation room. The only member of the team who hadn’t been around while Spencer was in Millburn, and the only member of the team with no experience with Cat Adams. In your gut, you felt a tug of envy.

Penelope nodded nervously, “She’s much, much more than that.” Her voice wavered slightly. Garcia had her own issues with Cat Adams, months of living in the BAU had left her worse for wear, but it was the best option while being hunted by a group of hit men.

You watched the members of the team as their eyes followed Cat around the hallway. “She’s a black widow,” JJ clarified for Simmons, “She preys on men she can seduce. She thrives on psychological seduction.” Her words made your stomach flip as you remembered everything she had put Spencer through in Mexico and subsequently prison – it was psychological warfare, and he was being sent into the lion’s den.

Luke nodded along to the narrative, “She has a body count that she’s never confirmed, but it’s believed to be in the hundreds.” Last time you had given tallying them up a chance you had almost reached two hundred, but she was only being criminally charged with seventy-three counts.

“She’s one of the most dangerous criminals we’ve ever arrested,” Tara admitted, “and she is obsessed with Reid.”

The group took a collective breath when Cat was fully in the interrogation room, “He’s the only man to ever outsmart her,” you continued. As much as he hated to admit it, everything she had ever said to Spencer had hit its mark, and you felt like your insides were being shredded at the knowledge that he was in there with her.

You flipped through Cat’s prison records once you were sat at your desk, looking up at any slight moment at the hope that someone might tell you what was going on. The prison records were relatively tame outside of what you already knew about her and Wilkins and her involvement with Lindsay Vaughn, but something you hadn’t thought about was her baby.

Spencer had broken the hard truth to Cat that day in Mount Pleasant, she couldn’t be a good mother. Her psychopathy would make it so that she would grow bored with a baby the same way a child would bore of a doll. You wondered how she viewed her miscarriage. Some psychopaths had the capacity to mourn, but you weren’t sure Cat fell within that demographic.

Her medical record painted a horrifying picture. She had been so far along that the baby had been delivered stillborn. Your stomach flipped at the charts, closing them before moving to the kitchenette to refill your coffee.

On your way, you saw Spencer through the glass doors, changing course so you could catch him before he went back. You veered around the corner, not wanting to call out his name before he turned into an interview room. Lagging behind, you kept yourself hidden, feeling like you were intruding and starting to walk backward, away from him.

Until you heard a crash and a shout, at which point you pivoted and returned to the interview room. A few agents started rubbernecking at the door, trying to see what was going on, “Keep walking,” you ordered them, pointing away from the room.

Inside the room, Spencer had haphazardly discarded his tie on the floor before proceeding to swipe everything off of the bookshelf. He didn’t acknowledge you as you stepped into the room, he just paced, placing his hand on his chest as he tried to self-regulate.

You tried to go around him, wanting to pick up the fallen books before anyone noticed what had happened, but before you could, Spencer grabbed your hand and pulled you into him. Getting over the initial startle, you reached out your arms and wrapped them around him, “I’m right here.”

“I’m struggling,” he admitted to you, holding you tightly against him. His time in prison felt like lifetimes ago at this point, but the way he hugged you reminded you of the day he got out – the last time you had to deal with Cat Adams.

His openness about his feelings helped to ease your own anxiety, and you were able to look up at him and offer a comforting smile, “That’s alright. This isn’t easy.” You kept your eyes on him, readjusting his rumpled collar and messy hair, “Why don’t you go get some water? I’ll take care of this,” you offered, holding your hand up when he tried to protest.

Spencer left without a fight, and you tried to reassemble the books and trinkets in the way they had previously been before wiping your palms on your jeans and walking back into the bullpen.

The team was gathering in the roundtable room, exchanging information and proposing ideas, “The victimology’s off,” Spencer said, gesturing to the screen where the two girls were being displayed.

“How so?” Tara asked, raising an eyebrow and glancing between your fiancé and the screen.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest, “Two young girls. She’s never done anything like this before.”

Agreeing, Tara looked around the table, “She usually targets men that remind her of her father. Children, even adult children are off limits.” She turned to Penelope, “Do we have an ID yet?”

Waving a fuzzy pen in the air, Penelope sighed, “You would think a parent or someone would notice, but there’s nothing coming up in any of my searches.”

“What do we know about the partner who’s been helping her?” Rossi asked no one in particular, looking to anyone who might have an answer.

Matt leaned his elbows over the table, “It’s gotta be someone from her prison. She wasn’t in contact with anyone else. We can start with known associates who were recently released,” he looked to Garcia, who nodded astutely before typing furiously on her laptop.

You spoke up from the doorway, slipping Spencer’s discarded tie into your back pocket, “I have a list going of associates at Mount Pleasant, we can do some comparing and contrasting,” you offered.

“Oh, I do love a good Venn diagram,” Penelope concurred, smiling before scooping up her laptop and making her way back to the lair.

Taking her seat, you uncomfortably sat next to JJ, leaning your knees toward Rossi so that you didn’t accidentally touch her legs. “Okay, can I tell you what’s been bugging me?” Your sister asked rhetorically, “Every time we’ve gone up against Cat, there’s the presenting agenda and the hidden one. If she sticks to pattern, this isn’t just about going on a date with Spencer.”

You considered the idea of her not having a secondary agenda but she had already veered so far off from her usual M.O. that everything else needed to follow the arbitrary rules in her mind.

“Right now, she’s a fixed variable,” Emily counseled, “We need to focus on identifying the UnSub and her victims.”

At that, everyone parted ways except for you and Spencer, you stayed flipping through folders of research you had on Cat Adams, ranging from her time as Miss .45 to her years in Mount Pleasant Women’s Correctional Facility. Spencer stood, hands on the back of your chair as he looked at the pictures being projected on the screen.

Every time Cat Adams came up, each topic you even slightly associated with her resurfaced – Diana’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis, Mexico, Millburn, and now the two of you were just barely recovering from the fallout of your sister’s truth. You were overwhelmed, and if you were overwhelmed, Spencer had to be on the verge of some kind of breakdown.

“I don’t know what to do,” he whispered despite the empty room, “Tell me what to do.”

You took a deep breath before turning your head and looking up at him, “I can’t tell you what to do. This is your decision.”

He sighed, lowering himself down in the chair next to you and resting his chin in his hand, “Then don’t tell me what to do, but I would like your input. Your thoughts, feelings,” he amended.

Smiling despite yourself, you looked over at him, “Someone’s paying attention in couple’s therapy,” you said lightly, setting your hand gently on his knee.

“I just need to know if we’re on the same page or if I’m going to mess everything up,” he said, bringing his free hand to where yours rested and threading your fingers together.

You leaned back in the office chair, shrugging slightly before you answered, “I think you should go.”

Spencer frowned, “What?”

“I think you should go on the date with Cat,” you iterated.

Clearly, that wasn’t what he had expected from you, “I don’t- You want me to go on a date with someone else?”

You flipped your file shut before looking back at him, “If I had the liberty to look at this situation as just your fiancé I would, but I’m not just your fiancé. I’m an FBI agent and I’m looking at these girls,” you gestured to the screen, “and I know that our best chance of finding them might just be sending you on a date with Cat.” You took a deep breath, “She always trips up and she always does it with you. It’s your call, at the end of the day, you don’t need to go if it’s not something you want to have to experience, but you asked for my thoughts, so there they are.”

Spencer looked conflicted as he considered his options, “I’ve- We’ve come so far recently. I’d hate to ruin all of that.”

Shaking your head, you smiled at his concern, “Solving the case has to come first this time, love.”

He nodded in agreement, standing up and keeping your hands intertwined, “Come with me,” he encouraged, nearly dragging you over to the interrogation room where Cat was. He opened the door to the observation room and brought you in with him.

You averted your eyes so that you didn’t have to look at her – possibly the only woman you would throttle given the chance – and just waited for Emily, who was getting more details.

Waiting for the door to close behind her, Spencer listened for the click before speaking up, “Well, what are her demands?”

Emily looked exasperated, sharing a look with you before responding, “She wants to go ice skating so she can skate circles around you. She’s wasting our time.”

And her own, you thought, Cat didn’t have much time to make an arrangement with Spencer, eventually, she’d just be sent back to prison. Ice skating would never get approved anyway. No matter how you try to spin it, no one would give her a blade.

The door opened, taking attention away from Cat and onto Penelope, who looked confused and mildly disturbed, “Okay,” she started, “Something weird happened, but it could be a lead. I just got a bazillion voicemail messages, all from the same address on Fourth Street.”

While Tara and Luke checked out the potential lead on Fourth, you stayed sat at your desk, listening carefully to the bustling office around you. Up in Emily’s office, you heard your sister and Simmons updating your unit chief, “We found the UnSub, her name is Juliette Weaver – it took the prison all of five minutes to identify her.”

You filtered through your file in front of you, looking for the information you had on Weaver while Matt continued speaking, “She was Cat’s old cellmate. Released from prison six months ago, off the grid a week ago.”

“What was she in for?” Rossi asked and you wondered if they knew how well voices carried into the bullpen.

Matt cleared his throat before responding, “Low-level possession, she took the rap for her boyfriend, but according to the warden, she’d follow Cat around like a puppy dog.”

Your unit chief hummed thoughtfully, “Easily manipulated. So, Cat groomed her, got her to take orders.” Much like she had done with Lindsey Vaughn, convincing her to destroy Spencer’s life – you wondered if Juliette considered Cat her lover too.

“It goes deeper than that,” JJ interjected, “Cat and Juliette have something in common.”

“Juliette’s dad killed her mom in a domestic dispute. Then he fled and was never caught,” Matt resumed, surprising you.

As you imagined the surprise on Emily’s face, she responded, “That’s exactly what happened with Cat’s parents.”

You watched them in the office as Matt set something down on Emily’s desk, “Yeah, so we did a little digging into Susan. We thought that she might’ve been Juliette’s mom, but she’s not.”

“She’s Cat’s,” Rossi realized.

Matt hummed in confirmation, “Susan Adams, unidentified cold case from 1987. She was found floating in the water on the Potomac. Thanks to that picture, the case isn’t cold anymore.”

Turning your attention back to the information you had on Cat’s former cellmates, you looked over Juliette’s personal information. There wasn’t much on her, but there were some details about her family – including two younger sisters. You would likely need Garcia to confirm it for you, but you had a good feeling that the two girls being held captive were Juliette’s sisters. If that was Juliette’s stake in this, you were no closer to figuring out what Cat’s endgame was.

Looking up at your computer, you thought about the first time Spencer and Cat had gone head-to-head. It had been almost four years to the date. You frowned at your monitor, “It’s an anniversary,” you whispered to no one in particular.

“What was that?” Luke asked from his desk, adjusting his Kevlar vest as he prepared to be the chaperone for the date.

Double-checking the dates, you turned to face him as you clarified, “Four years, almost to the date of the day Spencer arrested Cat.”

Luke nodded in understanding, “That’s why she chose now to act. It wasn’t just that she was running out of time, this was the perfect time for her to get into Reid’s mind.”

Scoffing, you gathered up your papers and walked up to Emily’s office, if Cat wanted to meddle, fine, but you could play her game too.

Four years, you thought to yourself. Spencer had been on family leave for months, and taking down Cat was his first case back. You wish you had known back then how much that case would affect the next four years of his life.

The team gathered when it was time, the remaining eight standing outside of the glass doors to the unit and watching and Spencer and Cat strolled through the hallway. She had been cleaned up, some poor agent sent out to find a date-appropriate outfit for her, and she was holding onto Spencer like he was a prize she had won at a fair.

Spencer’s face was blank. No, worse than that, he was completely absent. Separating himself from what was going on with Cat. It horrified you, every time you saw Spencer retreat into himself it made you sick to your stomach. You were grateful Luke was going with them, he was someone Spencer trusted to make the right calls.

For the first time that day, you and Cat locked eyes, glaring at each other in a battle of wills, “Don’t wait up,” she called out to you, winking before the heavy elevator doors slid shut.

Slowly, your group dispersed, going back to trying to figure out Cat and Juliette’s endgame. You looked at your files, but you couldn’t focus, you could barely breathe. Spencer would be safe. He was smart enough to evade anything Cat threw at him, but she seemed to chip at him every time they saw each other.

You swung in your office chair, trying to form an even semi-helpful thought as your sister came up to your desk, “Hey.”

Peeling your eyes away from the folders, you looked up at her, “Hi,” you responded, slightly confused.

JJ sat on the edge of your desk, crossing her ankles so her legs didn’t dangle, and she looked at you, blonde hair curtained around her face.

There wasn’t much for you to do until the date started and Spencer could fish for answers with Cat, but even so, you weren’t interested in holding a staring contest with your sister. “Did you need anything?” You felt like it was a gentle enough question, there was no reason for you to bring your hostile family relationship to work with you. Everyone knew there was something happening between the two of you, but no one knew precisely what it was.

Her eyebrows creased briefly, “I thought we could talk, just for a minute.”

You unceremoniously dropped your pen on your desk, leaning back and looking at your sister incredulously, “Kind of shit timing, don’t you think?”

“I invited you for dinner last night and you didn’t show up. Every time I come up to you at work you start a conversation with someone else,” she tried to explain herself.

It was exactly as she thought – you were avoiding her. You had no interest in repairing your familial tie, your thread of gold had frayed beyond repair. “I was busy last night, I told you I wouldn’t be able to make it. You’re the one who didn’t believe me.”

She sighed defeatedly, “Thursdays used to be your best night. You’d always come for dinner on Thursday nights like clockwork, are you telling me that changed overnight?”

You bit your tongue, but it wasn’t that you were trying to stop yourself from sniping at her, you were trying to stop yourself from telling her where you were last night. Thursday evening was your weekly couples counseling appointment and your sister didn’t need to be privy to the inner workings of your relationship. Besides that, none of this had been overnight – you hadn’t been over for dinner in months now.

For every single milestone that you reached with Spencer, JJ was the first person you told, but when you got engaged, she found out the news secondhand through Penelope. You knew you had hurt her. Maybe it wasn’t the same as her love confession, but you hurt her, and you couldn’t bring yourself to apologize. You weren’t entirely sure if you should apologize.

“I’m telling you that I didn’t snub you on dinner, JJ. I was busy, I couldn’t come,” you told her, keeping your tone level as you looked up at her.

Her expression soured, “How long are you going to be mad at me?”

Forever, if you could help it, but you couldn’t tell her that. Despite your anger, despite the sadness that thinking too hard about all of this brought you, you knew that you weren’t capable of holding your sister at arm’s length for the rest of your life. “JJ, I’m not-“ you cut yourself off. “When I found out that you were in love with Spencer, I promised myself that I wouldn’t hold it against you,” you lowered your voice, conscious of the bustling bullpen around you. “I’ve kept that promise. I can’t blame you for loving him when I know everything he has ever done that makes him loveable. I love him too. So, in whatever convoluted way you want to look at it, I understand where you’re coming from.”

She nodded in what seemed like agreement, “Ducky, I’ve known him for fifteen years, I couldn’t-“

“You see,” you interrupted her, “That’s where my understanding runs out. Just because you’ve known him longer doesn’t give you the right to come into our relationship and fuck everything up. Yes, Jennifer, you’ve known him for fifteen years, but you rejected him. You rejected him and ended up with someone else. Thirteen years after meeting Will, you told Spencer you were in love with him. Do you know how wrong that is?”

JJ’s shoulders slumped forward, “Yes, but-“

You held up your hand, stopping her from speaking, “No, JJ. There’s no ‘but’. What you did was wrong. You can try to justify it to me in whatever way you want, but what you did will always be wrong. It will always affect our relationship. Your love for Spencer is the ghost haunting our house and there are no Ouija boards in the world that can translate for me,” You cringed at your figure of speech, but you went along with it anyway.

“You’re engaged, so there’s obviously a way through this for the two of you,” she tried to argue, but you could tell her heart wasn’t in it.

Pausing, you picked at the dry skin around your nails, “Spencer and I had a really long and exhaustive talk a few weeks ago.”

She raised her eyebrows, “I know, I read the police blotter.”

You rolled your eyes, that hadn’t been a fun talk with Emily, but at least she prevented your dispute from reaching HR. “Yeah, we had a loud talk. We figured things out. We’re still figuring things out, but we decided that we’d rather do that together than apart.”

“I helped him pick the ring,” she confessed. “About a year ago and I thought… I thought he’d tell me before asking.”

Instinctively, your eyes flicked down to your left hand, “For what it’s worth, it was all very spur of the moment.”

JJ shook her head, “Why are you trying to comfort me right now?”

“God, JJ. I might be pissed at you, but you’re still my sister,” you snapped at her. “While I might want to, I can’t just cut you out of my life and I can’t stop myself from caring about you. If you want to work on our relationship, owning up to your mistakes is a good start. Spencer came clean to me and now we’re engaged, but that doesn’t negate the fact that this was broken in the first place. You don’t get to brush this under the rug.”

“You wouldn’t let me brush it under the rug anyway,” she retorted.

Your head snapped up to her, “Is that what you want? To forget any of this ever happened?”

She was quiet for a while before responding, “Yes.”

You pressed your lips together and studied her briefly, “Well, I can’t give you that.”

JJ opened her mouth like she wanted to say something else, but Emily beat her to it, calling out to you from the doorway of her office, “Do you have a second?”

The ceiling of your apartment was only interesting for a limited amount of time. You’d spent years in the apartment, tracing the patterns with your eyes just felt redundant now.

Emily had benched you. She disguised it as giving you the rest of the night off, but you were effectively taken off the case. She couldn’t claim it was a conflict of interest, everyone on the team had a conflict of interest with Cat Adams, but that’s what she thought it was.

You sat down on the couch, drumming your fingers on your denim-clad thigh while you waited for a phone call – you’d even take a text message.

Wallowing in your own boredom, you listened to the sounds of the city. Where the two of you lived, it was hectic during the day and became more manageable at night, but it was still the city. Cars drove by, sirens wailed, people chatted along the sidewalk, and people spoke in the hallway.

No, actually, people talking in your hallway was abnormal. Sitting up, you looked at the front door, considering going to snoop in on your neighbor’s conversation.

You didn’t even have the time to decide before the door opened, revealing Spencer and Cat in the middle of what seemed like a rather intense kiss.

He pulled away, looking into the apartment and seeming surprised to see you.

Standing up, your arms dangled limply at your sides, “Oh, Spence.”

Holding up a finger, he silently begged you to wait. You couldn’t hear anything that came out of his mouth, everything was muffled as you fought back the tears that were burning your eyes.

You didn’t talk again until Cat spoke to you. “What?”

She laughed slightly and you could hear your heart pounding, “Did it make you mad when I kissed your fiancé?”

You hated her. Your mother would tell you that hate is a strong word, and you still didn’t care, you hated her. “No,” you lied through your teeth.

Innocently, her eyebrows raised, “Why not?”

Four years. Four years of her haunting Spencer. You thought back to that first meeting at the restaurant and responded, “No offense, but you’re not really worth getting mad at.”

Her eyes lit up and even though you knew better, you were proud of yourself for striking a nerve. With a psychopath, that was a dangerous game. Before long, she meandered around the furniture in your home and sat in the reading chair, she looked at you, “Oh, sweetheart, we have so much to talk about. I’m so glad Spencie finally decided to introduce us.”

Anxiously, your eyes flicked over to Spencer’s. Worse than your own anxiety, he looked angry, an uncommon expression for him to wear. “It’s nice to have a real conversation with you,” you gratified her.

“Normally, Spencie and I, we spend our time together playing games, but tonight I want you both here to make a point,” she watched Spencer as the two of you waited for the ball to drop. “You could do so much better, because girl,” she turned to look at you, “You need to know the truth about him.”

Pinching your brows together, you looked at Cat, “What are you talking about?”

She smiled to herself, flipping her brown hair over her shoulder, “He told me that no matter what, he can’t get me out of his mind.”

“Everything I said to her tonight was a lie,” Spencer interjected, doing damage control on your relationship while Cat tried to take it apart.

Cat scoffed, “Did our kiss look like a lie?”

There was a time when Spencer was under the impression that he had been sexually assaulted by Cat in Mexico, and during that time, you were afraid of him hurting himself. You were in the lion’s den with him now and you had to rely on your gut. He wouldn’t kiss her unless it was his last resort. He wouldn’t do that to himself. He wouldn’t do that to you. Still, you forced yourself to look at him and answer her question, “No.”

“Thank you, now we’re getting to the heart of the matter,” she resumed smugly, obviously pleased with your response and she stood up, putting her hands on everything around the apartment. “You see, everyone thinks that Dr. Spencer Reid is- is just this nice, bookish, uh, genius who uh, always saves the day and has all the answers and has… zero mommy issues, right?” She pointedly tipped over a photo of Diana before she continued flouncing around the apartment, “But um, I know the real him.”

Spencer looked at her incredulously and you wished you could hear what he was thinking at that moment, “Yeah? Who’s the real me, Cat?”

She cocked her head at you, the faux pity in her eyes made you nauseous, “The real Spencer Reid throws women against walls and hisses that he’s going to kill them.”

He faltered and you knew she had hit her mark, “That was a very different situation.”

“Was it?” She challenged, looking at him for a rebuttal, but the vacant look was coming back to his eyes.

Chewing on the inside of your lip, you met his eyes, “What is she talking about?”

You had been in Mount Pleasant that day. For all of the things she knew about, she didn’t know that you had been there, and you could use that against her, but you’d likely hurt Spencer in the process.

“You tell her,” Cat insisted, “She’s not gonna believe it coming from me.” With a flourish, she sat back down in the chair, crossing her legs as she watched her entertainment for the night.

Spencer pursed his lips, leaning forward as his eyes flicked between the two of you, “Just like tonight, she got under my skin and-“

“You threw her against a wall,” you finished, displaying your comprehension of the story to Cat and reminding Spencer that you already knew.

Cat stood back up, dragging a hand along your shoulders, sending goosebumps sprawling across your skin. “Don’t skimp on the details, Spencie,” she goaded him. “She deserves to know everything.”

The terrible feeling you’d had all day worsened as you realized where she was going with this. It was the natural continuation of the story for her even if it wasn’t the truth.

“She was pregnant at the time, and I knew that when I hurt her,” Spencer admitted, the shame he felt emanating from him in waves.

You’re not like that, baby. You’re not a violent person, you remembered telling him. You wanted to tell him that now, but she’d never let you.

Cat looked at you, a devilish glint in her eye as she rounded out her fabrication, “And the next day I miscarried. The end.”

Your breathing hitched as you saw Spencer retreat completely into himself, “What? That’s not true.”

Her head snapped over to him, “It most certainly is true, check my medical records.”

“That doesn’t- I would-“ He stuttered, but it was too late.

“Stop,” she interjected, nodding her head in your direction, “Look.”

You were choking on the truth. You wanted to scream at her and simultaneously tell Spencer that she was lying to him. The words weren’t coming out, the only thing you had were tears. They were streaming down your face as you looked at nobody and nothing, sitting on your hands.

No one said anything for a while before Spencer sat down, keeping his distance from you, “I’m sorry.”

“Notice how your fiancé is apologizing to you and not me,” Cat instructed you, you peered up at her through wet eyelashes. “Men are all the same, aren’t they Ducky?”

Spencer jumped to your defense as you blanched at the nickname, “Don’t call her that,” he snapped.

Cat inclined her head toward him, “What, are you going to throw me up against the wall and choke me or do you only do that to pregnant women?”

Of all of the things for Cat to know about you, your childhood nickname wasn’t what you expected. You looked at her and met her eyes through your bleary ones, “Why are you doing this?”

You regretted the question as soon as you asked it, but you couldn’t take it back now, “Because I want you to see it,” she explained. “I want you to see that he is no better than all the men you chase. All the men who have hurt you before.”

“Stop,” you pleaded, staring at the floor in front of you.

Cat crouched next to you, forcing you to look her in the eyes, “I can see it in your face. Why did you flinch when I used your nickname?”

Your nostrils flared, “It’s none of your business,” you insisted.

She laughed at your attempted assertion, “Oh, but it is. In fact, it’s my specialty. Is he nearby? I could send Juliette over to say hi,” she offered.

“Say yes,” Spencer interjected, “Give her what she wants.”

Glaring at him, Cat waved him off, “He wants you to get me to make a phone call so they can trace it. You’re so good, the BAU.”

You shook your head helplessly, “I never wanted to be involved in this sick, twisted game between the two of you.” Even still, you had never been given the choice. Emily sent you home under the guise of waiting out the date only for it to be a trap.

Cat mock-pouted, “Tell me your story, Ducky, and I promise I will give Juliette a call and those two girls will be safe and sound.”

And that was the end of it. You couldn’t let your cowardice cost those girls their lives – or whatever Cat had planned for them.

“Come on, little duck,” she prodded at you, “It’s story time.”

Spencer shook his head, “Y/N, it’s a trap.”

Scoffing, Cat sat next to you, “It is so tricky, isn’t it? I mean, who are you gonna trust? The lying, cheating, violent psychopath… or me?”

Desperately, you looked up at Spencer and his face fell as he realized what you were doing. “My sister gave it to me,” you told her.

Impishly, she smiled, “Jennifer?”

“No,” you answered, “Roslyn, and don’t interrupt.” You frowned, piling your hands in your lap as you searched for the story. “I don’t remember it, but when I was learning how to walk I… waddled. So, when I would walk around Roz would follow me and make duck sounds, and I would mimic her. She started calling me Ducky after that and it just stuck.”

She smiled at you knowingly, “That is so sweet. How could you hate such a heartfelt nickname from your dearly departed sister?”

You shook your head, “I don’t hate it,” you insisted.

Cat cocked her head at you, “Tell me,” she goaded. “Tell me or I ruin her life.”

Quickly, you looked up at Spencer and made sure he caught the slip up too. The two of you shared a suspicious look before you continued, “My parents put me in school early, I started kindergarten when I was four and I learned early that kids were cruel. They would follow me around and quack,” you laughed despite yourself, what had seemed heinous as a child would barely make you spare a glance as an adult. “One day, we were doing a class craft, and they put glue and feathers on my seat so they stuck to my skirt when I stood up,” you told her, recalling the way your poor mother had to leave work to help you pick feathers from your skirt.

Next to you, Cat lifted a hand to her mouth, fake yawning as she waited for you to get to the man of it all.

“When she got home, I yelled at Roslyn,” You’d spiraled about this so many times in adulthood that you were surprised it had any effect on you anymore. “I told her I hated her. I told her she was a bad sister, and I wanted her to go away,” you admitted, fighting off tears again. “She skipped dinner that night and the next morning she… JJ found her. In the bathroom. She had slit her wrists with our father’s razor blade.”

Spencer’s brown eyes bore into you, reflecting the same sadness that you were sure was on your own face, “You were only four, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Well, you certainly didn’t help,” Cat snarked.

“Cat,” Spencer snapped.

Frustrated, you wiped under your eyes, “My dad blamed me. He told me he would give me up if it meant she would come back, and he’s maintained that sentiment ever since.” You knew now that there were other things Roslyn had been struggling with at the time, but part of you would always have the nagging feeling that you had a role in your sister’s suicide.

“So, you understand me,” she said matter-of-factly.

Confused, you lifted your head to look at her, “What?”

She scooted closer to you, “You understand why I’ve killed all of them. Those men,” she clarified.”

You looked at her, “No, Cat, I don’t understand you. I hate my dad, but I don’t want to kill him. I don’t prey on the deaths of the people that I hate, and that’s the difference between me and you. I want my dad to have to live with the fact that he’s a horrible person. I want him to live with what he did to me, to my family.”

Cat narrowed her eyes at you, “And he didn’t even visit you after you got shot.”

Out of guilt, you had assumed. His guilty conscience was the only thing that kept him away. After all, almost thirty years of telling you that it should’ve been you, the universe almost came through for him. “Give me the location,” you said, holding her to her end of the bargain.

Groaning, she held out her hand for your phone so she could put the location into your map. Once you had what you needed, you started making your way out, hearing her call after you, “Keep your head above water, Ducky!”

You kept moving, your feet moving beneath you even though your heart wanted to drop to the floor, you charged out the door, ignoring Emily as she tried to comfort you. Luke followed you out of the apartment building, neither of you speaking until you handed your phone to Luke, showing him the location. “Stay here, I’ll call the team and get them to meet here,” he told you, lifting your phone to let you know he was taking it with him.

Trailing behind him anyway, you got into the passenger seat of the SUV, “I have to go, Luke. It’s… I’ll be fine.”

He wasn’t entirely convinced, but Luke generally wasn’t one to argue with you. “Okay, but I’m still calling for backup.”

It wasn’t a far drive, in fact, months ago this bridge had been a regular stopping point when you went on walks, but as soon as you stepped out of the car and heard the water running below you, you froze.

There were flashing lights all around you, and the only thing you could do was watch as Juliette held onto the older of her two sisters at the edge of the bridge. The younger girl was calling out for her sister. Vaguely, you heard Matt trying to talk Juliette into letting them go.

The little girl screamed as Juliette shoved her sister off of the bridge, putting her hands up once the crime had been committed. Luke called for search and rescue through his comm, and you watched the little girl, just as old as JJ when Roslyn passed away.

Keep your head above water.

You didn’t remember much about Roslyn’s funeral, it was mostly JJ straightening your dress and fiddling with her necklace, but that singular event had changed the entire course of your life.

The screaming continued even as you ran to the edge of the bridge, not garnering anyone’s attention until it was too late, and Luke shouted your name as you dove off of the platform.

Afterward, the first thing you would remember was the pain. You absorbed the shock of hitting the water through your arms, causing strain on both of them. The darkness of the water was just as you imagined it would be. That is, until you rose to the surface, met with dozens of flashlights shining down on you.

People called your name, but you just looked around the water, listening for splashing as you hoped to find Juliette’s sister.

There was a gasp behind you, the both of you treading as best you could, but the water was cold, and she slipped under. Impulsivity was never your strong suit, so you hadn’t really considered the way your hands would go numb until you put an arm around her waist, trying to keep her head above the water.

“Y/N!” Matt called from the riverbed, shining his flashlight over at you while you tried to support the girl. It wasn’t easy, you ducked your head under the water and pushed her up, the darkness of the water threatening to swallow you whole.

Hoisting her up, you felt your teammates pull her from the water and sighed, forgetting where you were.

You gagged on the water before reaching up your arms, letting yourself be pulled out. The shock of the air on your lungs was nearly as bad as that of the water, but as you coughed up water on the dirt, you heard the girl start coughing as well.

Her body would have been dumped right where Cat’s mother had been found, and that little girl would have lost her big sister, just like you did. It was the only thing you could think of as you were brought back to the BAU because Emily was insistent on debriefing.

“You dove into the water?” Emily asked before ordering one of the desk agents to go find something for you to change into.

Your wet clothes clung pathetically to your skin as you nodded, “Yeah, I did.”

Luke smiled next to you, “It was pretty impressive, actually.”

“It’s reckless is what it is,” Emily said, studying your damp state, “Go up to my office and turn the space heater, we need to thaw you.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked up to Emily’s office and opened the door, turning the knob on the space heater before sitting on the little couch in her office. Placing your ring on the coffee table to dry, you wrapped your arms around yourself. You waited for the desk agent to return with clothes and instead were surprised when your sister came through the doorway with a pile of clothes in hand. “Hey,” she said, lifting the clothes, “Fresh from the Academy laundry.”

She closed the blinds as you stripped down to your tank top, pulling the sweatshirt over your head before swapping out your pants as well.

“How do you feel?” She asked gently, standing across from you hesitantly.

You looked down at your new clothes, “I feel like FBI Academy propaganda,” you responded, sitting back down on the couch.

Raising her eyebrows, she looked at you intently, “I meant after… everything tonight.”

Pulling your knees up to your chest, you looked up at your sister, “It never had anything to do with Spencer,” you whispered.

She pursed her lips before sitting next to you, “Well, it’s always Cat’s goal to get under Spencer’s skin. She just chose to use you to do it this time.”

You would probably never know how Cat managed to know so much about you. Honestly, you probably didn’t want to know. This time next week, Cat Adams would be dead, and that would just have to be enough for you.

“I can’t believe you jumped into the river,” JJ said in disbelief, rubbing a hand up and down your back.

Shyly, you shrugged at her, “I saw a little girl about to lose her big sister and I couldn’t let her go through that kind of pain.”

Your sister nodded in understanding, “She was eleven?”

You nodded slowly, “And her sister was seventeen,” you whispered.

Part of you felt like you had been staring at an alternate universe all evening. “So,” JJ said, moving the conversation, “Spencer’s on his way back. He’ll probably want to talk to you, clear some things up.”

“Will you sit with me until he does?” You asked softly, afraid of her sniping back about forgiveness, but she didn’t. That wasn’t the way JJ worked, she just nodded, leaning back against the cushions and letting you rest your head on her shoulder.

She didn’t get up and leave until Spencer arrived, she went to meet him in the bullpen, and you waited for the moment someone told him where you were. There was a sensation you had never experienced before, but you felt so separate from your own actions. Despite your still wet hair, you barely remembered diving into the water.

You sensed another psychological evaluation in your future.

The rotating heater warmed you in waves as you listened to your team. They filled Spencer in on everything that had happened tonight, from Juliette’s sisters to Cat’s real plan. “She…” Spencer stammered, “She told me Y/N had a big decision to make tonight. Where is she?”

Blankly, you stared ahead at the heater, wondering what they’d tell him and what they’d save for you. “Well, she may have jumped into the Potomac,” Matt told him tentatively, his voice was gentle as he dropped the bomb.

“She dove actually,” Luke corrected, and you imagined him being proud of his redress.

Emily cleared her throat, ever the mediator, and finally answered Spencer’s question, “She’s up in my office getting warm.”

There were no more questions after that, but you recognized the footsteps as Spencer approached the office. His knock was timid, but he didn’t wait for you to respond before opening the door.

His hair was awry, you supposed yours didn’t look much better, and his breathing was uneven. A symptom, you assumed, of finding out you had jumped into the fourth largest river on the Atlantic coast. “Hi,” you waved nervously.

At the same time, he spoke, “I’m so sorry.”

There was no use in pussyfooting around, “Did you want to talk now, then?”

“Yes,” he answered instantly, “I can’t… I’m so tired of things looming over our heads.”

You sighed, folding your hands in your lap, “That cumulonimbus has been there for quite some time, hasn’t it?”

“I just cheated on you and you’re making cloud jokes?” Spencer asked in disbelief. At some point in the night, he had lost his jacket, leaving him in a rumpled dress shirt.

Turning to stone, you paused. Maybe it was the Potomac water that you had ingested, maybe it was the other events of the evening, but you had brushed off the kiss between him and Cat nearly immediately. “I guess I didn’t really think of it that way,” you admitted.

He leaned back on Emily’s desk, “All of these problems we’ve been having, and we were just beginning to make headway. I went and ruined it.”

Raising your eyebrows, you looked at Spencer quizzically, “Okay, well, now you’re catastrophizing.”

“I made a choice years ago that resulted in you facing one of your biggest fears tonight, you’re shaking, and your clothes are in a sopping pile on the ground,” he explained as if you weren’t well aware. “I don’t think you’re taking this seriously.”

“I think you just had a shitty night spent with a woman who has a knack for convincing you you’re evil, so you’re telling me how evil you are right now,” you responded, leaning back on the couch cushions. “You’re not evil and you’re barely a cheater,” you told him, “I’d love to lay out all of the evidence for you, but I’m exhausted and I’d rather we just go home.”

One look at Spencer told you that you weren’t going to be getting what you wanted tonight, the histrionics of your evening weren’t over. “I made you cry,” he said meekly. He said it like it was the worst thing he could ever do to you.

“I’m the one who told you to go! I might not be a genius, but I’m smart enough to have considered the fact that Cat would try to make a move.” Groaning, you covered your face with your arms, “Spencer, Cat made me cry. I had to sit back and watch her manipulate you into believing you caused her miscarriage.”

“You knew?” He breathed.

You nodded, dropping your arms and looking at him miserably, “Yes, I knew the truth, and it killed me to not be able to tell you.”

Waiting for him to respond was agonizing. You desperately wanted to apologize for not telling him as soon as you found out about Cat’s baby, but you didn’t think it was important information at the time.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Spencer finally spoke. “I thought… I couldn’t handle it if you thought that I’d-“

Quickly, you shook your head and waved your hands, “No, Spence. I knew the truth from the get-go.”

He was quiet, shuffling his feet on the carpet before he looked up at you. He opened his mouth to speak but second-guessed himself before sealing his lips and crossing his arms in front of his chest. Watching you for a moment, he spoke, “Do you remember when you asked me what my truth would’ve been? If Pinkner had asked me instead of JJ?”

“We should go to bed.”

“Wait, what’s your truth?”

“My truth is that I’m tired, we should go to sleep.”

Part of you wanted to ask if he wanted to do this now, after the day the two of you had, you’d be perfectly content with going home and leaving this conversation for tomorrow. Instead, you nodded, “Yes, you ignored it.”

Spencer chuckled nervously, “You had been spending weeks looking for a reason to pick a fight with me. I didn’t think you would accept my answer for what it was.”

“The truth,” you drew your own conclusion, shifting uncomfortably on the couch.

Slowly, he knelt on the ground in front of you, “You were looking for me to tell you that I shared JJ’s feelings. You wanted me to say that you were my second choice, but that has never, ever been my truth. It never has been.”

Swallowing thickly, you reached your hands out and took his in yours, gently skimming the pads of your thumbs over the back of his hands, “Spencer, truth or dare?”

“Truth,” he whispered.

“What’s your truth?” You asked him softly, approaching the topic like a deer in the woods.

He looked down at your intertwined hands, noting the fact that you had taken your ring off before he responded, “I’ve spent my entire life trying to live up to the expectations of others. I went to Caltech, then MIT, and then I was recruited to the BAU. Through all that, I was under the impression that I was letting people down.”

This was a familiar conversation to you. You once spent hours talking him off of a metaphorical ledge because he hadn’t cured schizophrenia.

“I’m not the perfect son, who sent his mother away a week after turning eighteen,” an action that had almost gotten him killed. “I’m not a perfect agent and I’m not a perfect friend because the expectations set for me are too high, but I’m not a perfect boyfriend or fiancé either. It’s not because you hold me to a certain standard, it’s because I failed you.”

Your eyes widened at his admission, “Spencer, no, you didn’t.” Your chest ached at the thought of this living in his head. He had been living while paralyzed by the weight of the expectations of others when he just wanted one thing - to feel normal.

He waved you off, “Do you remember what you asked me? On that date in the shooting range?”

Seven years ago, shortly after Emily left for Interpol, you and Spencer had an impromptu date at the shooting range. “I asked you not to break my heart.”

“And I have, haven’t I? Time and time again,” he asked rhetorically, not looking for an answer even when you wanted to prove him wrong. “You’ve watched me get shot, you’ve seen me in handcuffs, beaten, kidnapped, fired – and you’ve never wavered. You have loved me through it all, and I haven’t reciprocated fairly. I had never known unconditional love, and I think you’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to it. I get put on this pedestal by everyone I meet and you’re the only person who has ever made me feel average. I know average is usually used with a negative connotation, but in this case, I mean it positively. You don’t have outlandish requests from me, all you’ve ever asked for is love, and I… I’m never going to be able to verbalize how much that means to me. How much you mean to me.”

“Spencer,” you tried to interject.

His eyes met yours, his brown irises slightly bleary as he looked at you intently, “I am so sorry. I’m sorry about your sister and I’m sorry about kissing Cat and I’m sorry about all of the ways I have broken your heart and if you… if this is where you need to call it, then I completely understand.”

“Spencer,” you echoed.

He tilted his head to the side, “What?”

You raised your eyebrows, “My ring is over there, on the coffee table, will you put it back on for me?”

“Do you mean it?” He asked, reaching behind him for the ring without waiting for your answer.

Holding out your left hand, you nodded, “There have been a lot of wrongs – from the both of us, but I don’t… I can’t hold the JJ thing against you anymore. You’re verifiably a genius. So, if you tell me that the only thing that would’ve pleased Cat is kissing her, then I’ll believe you. I trust you, and if I lose that, then I lose myself.”

He seemingly thought about it for a moment before responding, “It was the only thing I could think of, and I promise I will make this up to you.”

Smiling softly, you flexed your fingers once he slid the ring back on, relishing the feel of the metal on your finger. “Then it’s a good thing you’re only getting married once, it gives you a lot of time to make it up to me.”

“Did you have any ideas?” He asked a little too eagerly.

You beamed, “Oh, I have a few.”  

taglist: @football1921 @thedancingnerdmermaid @dollarstore-lydia-deetz @cillsnostalgia @alivesarcastically

@hellsingalucard18 @poetoflawed @lillysfrogsandbogs @mega-kittyglitter-1 @sndixz

@k-corbett @nott-my-riddle @guiltyyassin @starkeyellow @rainydayathogwarts

@roblino @awildfirestarting @getawaycarsficrecs @syd-maximoff @melodyflowersblog

@stargirlls-world @ovando13 @cxtherine