#the exe and errors surrounding everything

[bunny-carrothunter]

LOOK GARY THERE I AM

Junk on the Internet

<<< part 1 / part 2 / part 3

------------------ 🕴I'm not really used to working with lineart anymore, so this took me a while, As I said, I tried to do something more decent, But I think that after doing this and practicing, finally when I do the fourth part I will do something with the quality that these comics deserve.

[huramuna]

growing on you - oneshot.

modern aemond x (ex) girlfriend reader

content: smut (specifics under the cut), afab reader, angst, unhealthy coping mechanisms, descriptions of depression and its effect on the body, probably an unhealthy relationship, aemond being an idiot, probably ooc aemond, reader not described, no use of y/n, targtowers seek therapy: the story, fluff at the end bc hehe

work is 18+, minors do not interact or you shall be smited.

word count: 7.4k (oops)

a/n: i've had this one in the drafts for a while. tweaked to be a fun 'lil angsty end of year holiday fic. as is my motto: fuck it we ball. a/n 2: i pivoted from a third person pov fic to a second person pov fic 3/4 through writing this using the find and replace tool, so if there are grammar errors, i apologize! also my first time doing second person pov, weehee.

monsters - all time low ft. blackbear • why do i - set it off ft. hatsune miku

warnings: p in v, creampie, cockwarming, slightly tipsy sex

Everything in your life was enveloped by him. your clothes smelled like him, small strands of his hair were woven into every nook and cranny of your apartment together, his fitness regime protein powder and ketogenic supplements were littered in your kitchen cabinets. 

You couldn’t get rid of him, not even if you tried. Aemond was all you'd ever known— you have known one another since the age of seven, and have been in a relationship since fourteen. You were both now twenty-six. Twelve years you’ve been together romantically (longer, even, but you were both too stubborn to admit it) and nineteen years you’ve been in each other's lives in some capacity or another. 

You’ve been involved together longer than you’ve not known each other. You hardly knew who you were without Aemond— a thought that scared you deeply. 

It’s been two weeks since he moved out, only temporarily he’d said. He needed space. He would still pay his share of the rent and you didn’t need to worry about that. 

But what about everything else? What about him warming you at night? Comforting you when you had nightmares? What about his items in the fridge, surely you’d spoil if he didn’t use them soon. What about Vhagar? Their— no, his geriatric cat that he took with him to God knows where— she must be terrified, surely. 

Was he giving Vhagar her medicine before bed? Of course he was— he was the more responsible one anyway. 

You paced back and forth until the soles of your feet ached and then some. Knowing Aemond for so long, you had intimate knowledge on everything about him, you were woven into each other's DNA like vines on a trellis, growing and expanding until you swallowed all of the other plants whole. 

That is what happened, wasn’t it? You grew too large, too comfortable and became stagnant. You weren't unaware of his rising workload at his firm, but he had always been a workaholic— throughout their teenage years, through college and grad school. It never slowed him down so you didn’t understand the change in behavior. 

Aemond was closed off. He always was a bit emotionally stunted due to his upbringing or lack thereof from his father and everything that happened surrounding his eye, but he had a soft side for you, always for you. You could retrace every part of him perfectly from memory, always could make him laugh, could comfort him when he recused himself, and the rare times he did cry, you were there. 

But the last few months there was a shift— a change in him. Where he had been hard to open before, like a rusty hinge just requiring some oil, he was now padlocked, ironclad and impenetrable. Attempts to talk were shrugged off, ignored or diverted. 

“Please, just talk to me, Aemond,” you said one night as you sat on the couch. You were watching your collective favorite show and he wasn’t even commenting on it like he usually did, he was silent and deadpanned. “I don’t understand what’s wrong if you don’t talk about it.” 

“There's nothing wrong, therefore, nothing to talk about. I’m just tired from work,” he responded gruffly. “Stop whining.” 

His tone was clipped and harsh, sending a wave of hurt trickling through your body. you were overly emotional, where he was under emotional— usually, you balanced each other out and struck a good middle ground, but in times like these, during fights, things would get explosive. 

The tears started right away, your little sniffling cries stifled by a hand over your mouth. You turned away, wrapping yourself in the blanket. 

“Seriously?” he growled, “I didn’t even say anything and you’re fucking crying again.”

“I d-don’t appreciate your tone, Aemond— you’re being mean,” you sniffed, wiping away tears that were soon just replaced by new ones. “Please, don’t be mean to me.” you were always soft hearted, and it was one of the things Aemond loved about you— or he had loved at one point. 

“I’m not being mean,” he pinched his brow, “you’re overreacting and I do not have the capacity to deal with your antics anymore.” 

Of course, your mind hit the panic button. ‘Anymore’ meaning that he didn’t want to deal with you at all, ever. The tears increased and you recused yourself further into a ball. 

“Fucking hell.” he cursed, getting up from the couch and stomping outside to the balcony, lighting up a cigarette. He was out there for about an hour— you had cried yourself to sleep. 

It was many situations like that for weeks that finally just… broke him. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said one day, slamming his keys down on the kitchen table, “I seriously cannot deal with your childish shit anymore— I’m working my ass off at the firm, actually bringing in money and I still have to come home and tend to you. you’re twenty-six, grow up and stop crying at every little thing. It’s fucking infuriating.” 

“You know I can’t control that part of me!” you screamed back, your temper rising immediately to match his. The words flowing out of your mouth didn’t feel like yours, but some sort of defensive mechanism. “You can’t do this anymore? You’re not doing anything Aemond, except pushing me away. God, you haven’t even touched me in weeks.” 

“Oh, so this is about sex?” he countered, getting closer to you, nostrils flaring. “You’re mad because I won’t fuck you? Are you that desperate?” 

That one stung, to be sure. Aemond had been your first and only— you only ever knew him, only ever had him. “No, not just sex,” you murmured, “you haven’t even… just touched me normally. No hugs, no little caresses, nothing— it's as if I’m an aversion to you.”

He backed up from you, “Maybe we’re just too close,” he admitted, “We’ve been together too long. It's not fun anymore, it’s not new— it’s the same old, same old, going through the motions for release, not because I actually like it.” 

“I don’t understand.” you said, your voice sounding disconnected from your body. The tips of your fingers felt numb, the numbness spreading through your body, your heart pounding in your chest as if it wanted to escape. 

“I need space. I need to think about this.” 

“This?”

“Us. I need to think about us and if this is something I really want,” he paused, “You’re… too much and not enough right now.” 

“Wh— Aemond, please,” you whispered, your voice broken, “What can I do? I’ll… I’ll change, I won’t cry or whine anymore— please.” 

He stared at you, his prosthetic eye unmoving while his remaining one bored into you, “I will think about it.” 

“What… does this mean?”

“We are taking a break, alright? I’ll have my essentials out and I’m going to stay with Aegon.” 

“Please— don’t go. I need you.” 

That was the end of that conversation. That was the last time you spoke, two weeks ago. You expected him to text you at some point, to check in on you, to maybe try to talk things out. 

Nothing. There's been nothing. Radio silence. 

You felt isolated— you had no family, as your parents were estranged from you. you couldn’t go to Aemond’s family, as close as you were to them all, it just simply wasn’t an option. 

You didn’t have friends. All you knew was Aemond. 

It was early in the evening and you were in a deep pit of self-loathing. You decided to text him. 

You swallowed thickly— the green meant he either turned off his phone or blocked you. You hoped that it wasn’t the latter. 

The next few weeks were a blur. You felt like you were barely living, merely going through the motions to stay alive— not that you really were. 

You woke up, went to work, came home, scrounged up food and then went to sleep. Rinse and repeat.

Weeks become months of your monotony, and no word from Aemond. He still had half of his stuff left in the apartment, you felt like you could barely breathe. At every turn there was something to remind you of him. 

You’d lived in this apartment together for four years, the evidence of your relationship etched into the very walls. It was like the space was closing in on you and you couldn’t catch your breath, barely keeping your head above water. 

You had to move out— you had to get away. 

You managed to find a place, a cheap studio above a coffee shop downtown. The landlord was an old lady who was sympathetic to your situation and agreed to let you take the space quickly. 

There was still the matter of your and Aemond’s current apartment— or, rather, it was just Aemond’s now. 

Saving yourself the embarrassment of seeing if you were still blocked, you called Aegon. He was a better messenger than none. 

“Hey, Egg,” you said, sitting on the couch. you bounced your knee up and down, biting at the skin of your lip. You and Aegon were amicable, not necessarily as close as you and Aemond, but you grew up together. Aegon ran in different social circles than you and you were somewhat polar opposites so you never really stuck— you did have your phases of friendship, though– which pissed Aemond off to no end. “Um, I don’t know if this is the right way to go about things but, do you mind relaying a message to Aemond for me?”

“Yeah, ‘spose I could. What’s up?” Aegon replied, his tone nonchalant like usual.

“I’m moving out of the apartment into my own place, so I guess he can go back. I’ll have all my stuff out by tomorrow.”

“Fuckin’ finally,” Aegon said, “He’s been driving me up the wall with his tidy, feng shui bullshit. He rearranged my whole place like five times and has taken up all the space in my cabinets with that nasty no-carb shit,” he paused for a moment, “I… didn’t mean that in a bad way to you, ‘course. I’m sorry it had to come to this. He’s a fucking idiot.”

That made you laugh, genuinely. Your first laugh in months. “Yeah– he… tends to do that. He left half of his stuff here, it feels like I’m living in the twilight zone. I just… gotta get away, you know?”

“Hey, I get that– you don’t have to explain yourself to me. He’s a dickhead and doesn’t understand how good he has it. If you want, I can bring my truck over tomorrow and help you move stuff.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Egg.”

“I want to– please.”

Your brow furrowed– Aegon usually wasn’t so persistent on anything unless it involved drinking or drugs. But, you hadn’t had real human contact in eons besides at work so… maybe it could be good.

“Okay, see you tomorrow. Thank you, really.”

–

It was rainy the next day– nasty and wet, droplets pouring down like tears. It felt somewhat familiar.

But, Aegon showed up like he promised, rolling up in his old, fading yellow pick-up truck. His hair was much shorter than you remembered and he looked actually well kept– Aemond must’ve been whipping him into shape.

He waved and ran through the rain, standing under the eave, “So– it’s raining.”

You snorted, “I think I can see that,” you teased with a tiny smile, “Not sure when it’ll let up.”

“I brought uh…” he paused for a moment to think, stretching out his arms in a square shape, “Y’know?”

“A tarp?” 

“Yup– that,” he gave a lopsided grin, inviting himself in through the open door, “you aren’t going to kick me out if I don’t take off my shoes, right?”

You glanced down at his boots– they were a bit muddy and definitely wet. Aemond wouldn’t have let him step two feet through the threshold without taking them off. But– you weren't Aemond. “No, keep them on if you want. It’s not my problem if you track dirt through the place anyway.”

He nodded, taking his phone out of his pocket for a moment and shooting a quick message to someone. “Sorry I haven’t been around, it’s just… he’s my brother. It would be kind of… I dunno, crossing some sort of unsaid boundary if I visited his… girlfriend?”

“Ex-girlfriend. I guess,” you corrected softly– but you didn’t really know yourself what it was. He wouldn’t talk to you, “It’s fine. I didn’t expect anyone to really reach out anyway, because of that… unsaid boundary thing.”

“We should’ve. you’re a part of our family with or without Aemond. Me, Helaena and Daeron have a whole group chat about it. Even mom asked where you’ve been,” he scratched the back of his head absentmindedly as he sent out another text, “Someone should’ve checked up sooner.”

“You’re acting like I’m some sort of neglected puppy, Aegon,” you turned to him, “... do I really look so terrible?”

Aegon glanced up at you, his mouth formed in a hard line. He cracked his knuckles, shrugging his shoulders. “I won’t lie to you. You look half dead.”

You blinked. Hard. Moving towards a mirror in the hall, you looked at yourself. Dark circles under sunken eyes, your skin was a pale pallor and your hair needed a trim desperately, your split ends curled and fettered. You were gaunt, as well– having lost a bit of weight over the months. “Jesus,” you muttered. Glancing over at Aegon, he was texting again. “Sending an update to the group chat, I guess? ‘Good news, she’s still alive, barely’?”

He snorted, “Yeah– something like that,” finally, he locked his phone and slipped it in his pocket. “I made sure to text Aemond, too.”

Your mouth felt dry at the mention. “Why?”

“He asked.”

“Asked?”

“He asked me to… make sure you were okay.”

Goosebumps prickled at your skin, the ever familiar feeling of nausea and despair swirling in the pit of your stomach. Nibbling at your lip more, you turned away, feeling a bit too exposed. “And what’d you say?”

“I said you were alive but you are not okay.”

Your lips pursed into a line as you tasted a bit of copper in your mouth from chewing on your lip. “I guess that’s right,” you muttered, “Why would he ask?”

“Aemond is… complicated. you know that better than anyone. I don’t know what kind of bug he has up his ass these last few months but… even through all of this, he still cares.”

“Like hell he does,” you snapped, feeling the sting of tears, “If he did, he would’ve given us a chance to talk it out, to… to try, maybe even go to therapy, I don’t fucking know– he would’ve reached out– anyone should’ve reached out,” your hand went to your hair, right at your hairline at your scalp, picking at the hairs there– another self-destructive habit you’ve picked up in your months of isolation, “I’m so fucking alone, Aegon. He knows… you all know I have absolutely no one else. I’ve been going through this on my own. I have no friends, no family– no brother to go live with when I need space, no family group chat. I don’t have shit, Aegon. All I’ve ever known in my life is him and you and Helaena and Daeron and mom. Why… why does it feel like I was cast off the island without even… a tribal council or something?” you sniffed, the tears coming in full force now. 

Aegon was silent, coming up behind you. “I’m… sorry,” he murmured, putting his hands on your shoulders, as frail and skeletal as you were, “We should’ve been better. We… will be better.” he turned you around and pulled you into his chest, enveloping you in his arms. “We thought you would’ve been… fine without him. He made it seem like that– that you were strong enough. I only figured it out yesterday when he was up my ass about texting him as soon as I saw you. He needed to know if you were feeding yourself, if you were keeping up with your medication, if you still had nightmares. A fuckin’... laundry list of questions– I told him to stick his questions up where the sun don’t shine and to see for himself,” he took a breath, “He settled on one question– if you were okay.”

“I think he got his fucking answer, then,” you whispered, “I am not okay. I haven’t been okay in months. I… I need help.”

“I know,” Aegon shifted you slightly to look at your face, “We’ll help you– I promise, you won’t be alone anymore. Look, I’ll even add you to the group chat, okay? I’ll rename it to ‘Aemond Sucks’, how does that sound?” 

You cracked a tiny smile, sniffling. “Yeah… I’d like that.”

– 

You ended up moving your belongings to your new place the same day, effectively ridding yourself of the constant shadow of Aemond’s memory.

Aegon even took you to Michael’s and HomeGoods to get stuff for your little studio, so you could really make it yours. It was a bit intimidating at first– you weren't used to being able to decorate things the way you wanted, as Aemond always opted to keep things simple and minimalistic. 

You, admittedly, went all out. Your new studio looked like a Pinterest board titled ‘cottagecore’. You were incredibly happy with it all, practically jumping up and down at it.

“It looks so good! I love these little mushroom chairs you picked out, Egg,” you hummed, patting some plush felted stools in the shape of mushrooms, which you put near the window. “I bet Helaena would love it.”

“Let’s take some pictures for the group chat, Hel will literally be all over this. you two always love that cottagecore, fairycore, fantasy… shit.” he grinned, stooping down to take some very out of perspective pictures of the mushroom chairs, making them look fifty feet tall.

You settled into your new place quickly, having Helaena, Aegon and Daeron over quite often for drinks and movies. Your health steadily improved until you were mostly back to normal physically– there would be a lot of scars internally, however that would take longer to heal, if you ever would. You had developed a trust issue complex since Aemond’s unceremonious exit from your life and hadn’t gone on any dates, you didn’t know when or if you would ever be ready. They did you the courtesy of not mentioning Aemond, until Daeron said something odd.

It was about four months after you moved in, and almost a full year since you’d last seen Aemond. You were all a few mixed drinks in, Aegon had made them and you were heavy on the alcohol, light on the ‘mix’, and you were all kicked back on the couch, with Aegon laying on the mushroom chairs stacked next to each other, lazed back like a cat. 

“Mom says she wants you over for Christmas dinner,” Daeron said, taking a sip of his drink, “She figured it’d be fine with Aemond going off with his new…” he blinked, catching himself. 

Helaena nudged Daeron in the ribs as a warning, staring at their friend warily.

“... his new? His new what?” you asked, your voice so quiet that it must’ve been like a squeak.

“... new girlfriend.” he finished.

You were silent for a while before sighing. “I figured it would happen eventually. I can only hope that it… wasn’t too soon after we broke up– or whatever… happened.”

“We all told him it was fucked up that he just left and ghosted you, lovey. Even mom got on his ass about it, and he is her favorite child who usually can do no wrong.” Helaena put her drink down, wrapping her arm around you. “You should come to Christmas dinner, everyone would be super happy to see you! And Aemond won’t be there, so even more reason to come. Please.” she whimpered, using her best puppy-dog face.

You mulled it over in your mind for a few moments. You couldn’t think of anything more painful than being alone during the holidays, so you nodded.

–

It was snowing on Christmas day, the flurries coming down and melting against your skin as you waited for Aegon to pick you up. You were wearing a red checkered tapestry dress with a flannel jacket, a white fluffed scarf wrapped around your neck and lower face. As soon as you saw the familiar color of Aegon’s truck, you practically booked it into the passenger seat. 

“Merry Christmas, you look fantastic,” Aegon mused, ever the charmer. “I’ve got the heater on full blast, I promise– but y’know my old boy’s puttering these days. We’ll need to get some speed for it to really warm up.” 

“Mmm,” you murmured, your teeth chattering, “S’cold.” 

He reached back and grabbed a well-used blanket, draping it over your legs. “Better?”

“... yeah– but,” you blinked, raising a brow. “What do you have this in the truck for?”

Aegon laughed as he began the drive to his family’s estate. “I think you know.”

“Please don’t tell me you’ve fucked someone on this blanket, Aegon.”

“Someones– not just someone. But I keep it clean, no worries!”

The drive to the Targaryen estate was about an hour and a half from town, nestled deep into an expansive forest where there weren’t any other homes in at least five miles. It was a gorgeous, Victorian style mansion and according to Daeron, was most certainly haunted. You had been here numerous times, of course, but it’d been a while. As you pulled up in the driveway, you saw Alicent standing outside the door dressed in a gorgeous red and green festive dress, hair curled to perfection. Nothing less was expected of Alicent, though.

“Oh, my darling,” Alicent cooed, holding her arms out to caress who she thought of as her fifth child. “It’s been too long, I’ve missed you.” 

Your heart warmed under Alicent’s caress, someone who had become more of a mother figure to you than your actual mother. You sniffed, pressing your forehead into Alicent’s shoulder. “Missed you too, mom.” 

“Come on, you both can cry inside in the nice toasty house, yeah? I’m freezing my balls off here, mom.” 

Alicent huffed, ushering both of you inside. “Don’t be vulgar, son– it’s Christmas.”

Helaena and Daeron were already there, as well as Otto, who gave you a stiff nod as a greeting, as was his usual means of communication.

You settled into the kitchen, Alicent pouring everyone apple cider and dishing out at least six types of holiday themed cookies. About an hour after arriving, there was a knock on the door. 

“Oh, that must be Rhaenyra and Laena. Can you answer the door, darling? I need to take the roast out of the oven. I’m sure they would be happy to see you!” 

“Mhm!” you mused through bites of cookies. You loved Rhaenyra and Laena, who were technically married with husbands, as was Alicent, but the three of them were in a secret, not so secret to anyone with eyes, polyamorous relationship. It always amused all of their kids when they tried to hide it. 

You turned the doorknob, fully expecting to see Rhaenyra and Laena. It was not. 

Aemond.

“Fuck.” you blurted out, eyes wide. It had been the better part of a year since you had last seen him. His hair was longer now, gathered into a low bun at the nape of his neck, his cheeks a bit more gaunt. He still wore his earrings and his rings– including the one you had given him almost a decade ago. 

“Shit.” he responded, seemingly caught equally off guard by seeing you again. The pupil of his non-prosthetic eye dilated until the iris was almost consumed in black, before he flexed his hand and reeled himself in. 

You couldn’t help but notice he was alone– no ‘new girlfriend’ as Daeron had put it. “Aemond,” you breathed, feeling like you were outside of your own body, your head filled with fluff and static. “Merry… Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” he responded gruffly, “Can I come in?”

“Oh– yeah, duh,” you chastised yourself, stepping aside to let him in. “Sorry.”

“Mm.” he grunted in his usual manner. That seemed to be a habit he hadn’t dropped. 

You all but retreated to the kitchen, the expression on your face telling everything. Aegon, Daeron, and Helaena gathered around you.

“I didn’t invite him, I swear.” Aegon whispered.

“Well, neither did I!” Daeron professed.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t invite him. He left me on read three weeks ago when I sent him a picture of a bug on my windowsill.” Helaena sniffed.

A new voice chimed in. “I invited him,” Alicent spoke, breaking up the little posse, “I told him to come over or he would be grounded for three months.” 

All four of you stared at Alicent, deadpanned. 

“Mom– he’s… almost twenty-seven. you can’t ground him,” Daeron said, confused. “And moreover, why? Wasn’t he busy?”

“Well, first off, he is my son, so I wanted to see him for Christmas. Two, I believe we have someone here who has some unresolved issues with him.” Alicent responded, staring right at you pointedly.

“... I don’t know… I… I don’t know if I can talk to him. It’s been too long… I feel like I was just getting over all of this.”

“Well, do I have any say in this?” Aemond barged into the circle, his hands in his pockets. 

You suddenly felt overwhelmed, the familiar bubbling of everything being too much rising in your stomach. You were teleported back to months ago when you were barely alive, trapped in your own mind. “I… I need… I need a minute.” you muttered, your voice sounding distorted as you made your way to the bathroom, turning on the faucet. Chest heaving, you were already crying, the waterworks starting somewhere between the hallway and the sink. 

“You’re always fucking crying, I can’t take it anymore.” Aemond’s voice from months and months ago echoed in your head, causing the tears to flow more. You bit against your lip, tasting blood right away as you willed yourself to stop crying. 

“S-stop… stop crying,” you whispered, fingers messing up your hair as you held fistfuls of it. You couldn’t catch your composure for the life of you, sliding against the bathroom wall onto the floor.

Vision blurring, you don’t know how long you were incoherent for. When you came back to yourself, Aemond was in front of you, crouched down.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, the door closed behind him, “It’s okay.”

You swallowed, still numb as he pried your fists from your head, out of your hair, smoothing it down.

“Look at me, can you do that? Nod if you can hear me.”

You nodded slowly, the feeling coming back to your extremities in a sprightly tickling sensation. You blinked tears from your eyes, the liquid smearing your vision. 

Aemond rasped a thumb over your eyes, effectively clearing the obstruction from your vision. “Just breathe,” he continued to whisper. It was ever reminiscent of when he would calm you down after a nightmare, voice low and scratchy in a way that comforted you. He was so close now, closer than he’d been in forever. He still smelled the same, the scent triggering a deep aching within your chest. A scent that took you forever to get rid of, but you never truly could. “Can… we talk?” he asked then, his voice sounding more vulnerable than ever. 

It felt like whiplash, visions of your previous fights plaguing you, where he had been so closed off, so far away, so distant that you couldn’t reach him– and now, he was here. In the present, in the flesh. In front of you, opened. Not opened completely, but you could see it, like the slit of a cracked door, the light bleeding through. It was there.

“... yeah.”

“I… I’m… I’m sorry. What I did was fucked up. It was fucked up and wrong and you didn’t deserve any of it.”

“You’re right about that,” you muttered, pulling your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. “I didn’t deserve it.” 

Aemond’s mouth twitched slightly before he sat down next to you, propping up his legs in a criss-cross. He opened his mouth to speak a few times, before closing it. His hands flexed and unflexed in quick succession– he was clearly thinking very carefully about his next words. “... I’ve… got issues. You know that better than anyone. I don’t know what was going through my head those months that we fought. I can hardly remember it now, it was like… I was in a fog, a haze– I was working myself half to death, I just wanted dad to notice, to fucking… appreciate me,” he put his hands on his head, “I was so… tied up in this illusion that if I made junior associate at the firm so young that he would congratulate me on my achievement and…” Aemond let out a sigh, “And… in the process… I pushed you away.”

You looked at him, feeling your gaze soften ever so slightly. You knew that his father was a sore spot for him and that trauma ran deep. “You didn’t just push me away, Aemond,” you sighed, reaching out a shaky hand to pry one of his from his face. “... if you would’ve just talked to me, I could’ve helped. You didn’t push… you… you shoved, you shoved and ran in the other direction.”

His one violet eye danced towards you. “I know. I’ve been kicking myself for it. When Aegon told me you weren’t doing well… I almost left work to see you.”

“... you did?”

“Yeah. Aegon basically told me not to– that… this was something you needed space for. Kind of like I did but… maybe in a more healthy way.”

“A text wouldn’t have hurt.” 

He reached into his pocket and took out his phone– his wallpaper was still the same as it was, a picture of you, him and Vhagar very unhappy in an elf costume. He scrolled to his notes app, which was filled with messages addressed to you. “... I thought it might, after what Aegon had said. I was… ashamed of how I acted, how I handled the whole thing– how I left you alone without a word. He told me how you looked… dead. I didn’t want to make it worse.”

Your eyes scanned the messages, picking out some words. The main ones that caught your gaze were ‘sorry’, ‘love’, ‘regret’. A huge breath left your lungs, feeling as if everything had been knocked out of you at once. You felt like you were being whipped back and forth in the wind, trying to grab onto anything. If you both weren’t so stubborn and just messaged one another– well, no. You did message him, one time. “I thought you blocked me.” 

“... for five minutes, maybe.”

“God, we’re so fucking stupid, Aemond.”

“You aren’t– don’t say that. I’m literally a dumbass. All of my siblings told me so, even my own mother, and you know she never curses.”

The tiniest of smiles cracked onto your face as you jostled his shoulder. “Yeah… you are a dumbass. I am allowed to say it at least once. So, um,” you shuffled slightly, “Daeron kind of let it slip that you had a new girlfriend?”

Aemond pinched his brow. “Of course he said that. He is twenty-one years old and still doesn’t know how to use his goddamn ears. I said I was seeing a new therapist, not that I had a fucking girlfriend.”

“A therapist?”

“... things got really dark for me after I moved back into our… no, my… place. After you officially moved out. It felt lifeless, all of your things were gone, the fucking warmth sucked out of the place. It felt like it’d been sterilized of anything… good. I feel into something– I don’t know, a depression? I guess, that’s what Aegon called it. He suggested I see a therapist, citing me as ‘an emotionally stunted asshole who needs more therapy than him’.” he exaggerated the last bit with air quotes, rolling his eye.

“... he isn’t wrong. I mean, I love your family, but all of you are all kinds of fucked up. Maybe I am too, practically being a part of it.”

Aemond chuckled, giving a tight lipped smile. “We are fucked up. I realized that… I really do not give a shit what my dad thinks, because nothing will ever be good enough for him. He’s so far gone now that he probably doesn’t even know we exist. I’ve come to terms with that and honestly… it feels like a weight has been lifted.”

“I’m glad you could… work through some of that, Aemond.” you say sincerely, resting your cheek on his arm absentmindedly. 

“... I want to talk about us.”

“... us. Okay.”

“I don’t expect you to want to jump right back into things. It would be unfair to think that– but… maybe we could try?”

Your chest feels a bit tight at his admission– he wanted to try. Every fiber in your being wanted to say yes and jump back into it like you’d never left. But you knew you couldn’t. There were still parts of you scarred by this whole experience, some parts that may never heal. It would take a long time and a lot of talks like this to even get some semblance of what the both of you had. “Well… before we were together, believe it or not, we were friends. Could we… try that for right now?”

His chest visibly deflated a bit, but he nodded. “Whatever you need, okay?”

–

The days following Christmas, leading up to New Year’s were… different. You and Aemond were back in contact, going out for coffee and lunch a few times.

On the day before New Year’s eve, you texted him.

Turns out, timing the movie to sync with 12 am on New Year’s day to Toby Maguire saying ‘Pizza time’ was difficult. Well, it wasn’t difficult for normal people– but you and Aemond were a bit tipsy, as Aegon had left some hard apple ciders in your fridge, to which you both indulged.

“Okay, okay,” Aemond stared at his phone, “5… 4… 2… wait, no, fuck, 3… 2… I think we fucked it up– just go, go!”

Quickly, you started the movie. “Maybe we should’ve practiced– can we start over?” you plopped on the couch, sinking into the sofa and taking a swig of the cider.

“Doesn’t work like that, sweetheart. Can’t turn back time.” he mused softly, squatting down on one of the mushroom stools. “Pretty comfy.”

“Aegon picked those out, nifty, huh?”

“Nifty.” he parroted. 

The movie continued on, but as it went on, there was an unspoken tension growing. Aemond hadn’t sat on the couch, but rather, the stools that were on the other side of the room. It felt like a chasm had formed, the strain almost palpable. 

You chewed on your lip anxiously, contemplating whether or not to say anything. But, you had both been trying a new technique called ‘communication’ – a pretty cool and helpful thing that Aemond’s therapist had taught him. You remember laughing when he posed it that same way– but it was extremely important. You cleared your throat. “Why are you sitting all the way over there?”

“... um. I wanted to try the mushroom seats, I guess.”

“You don’t want to sit next to me?” you countered, feeling especially brave. 

“Is that… alright?” 

“Um, duh. I invited you over for pizza and a movie so we could… sit together. Not for you to be half a mile away sitting on a mushroom.”

“As long as it’s alright with you.” he murmured, sitting up from the mushroom stool and making his way over to you, sliding onto the couch, still a few feet away from you.

You weren’t sure if it was the atmosphere, the pent up emotions, the small buzz of alcohol, or a destructive cocktail of all three, but you inched closer to him. Closer, closer… until your thighs were touching. You glanced up at him beneath fettered lashes. “Hi.”

“Hey.” he responded, his voice low and warm. It caused a balmy and comforting vibration to go through you, reverberating in your chest. 

You became all too aware of your movements, your closeness to him, the skin of your thigh grazing against his jeans as you got as close as you could. Your lips parted slightly as he stared back down at you. “Can… we?”

“Can we, what?” he murmured, lacing his fingers through your loose hair, gently grasping it at the nape of your neck. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“... kiss. A little bit.”

“Just a little bit?” 

“Mhm. A teeny bit.” you leaned up, Aemond meeting you halfway as your lips came together. The culmination of your year apart, all of the emotions, the sadness, the frustration and anger, the passion, love, tears– all of it came together at this moment as the two of you melded together perfectly, as if you’d never left. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh of contentment, followed by what could only be articulated as a moan. 

It caught both of you off guard, Aemond pulling away for a moment, his lips still ghosting over yours. “Fucking hell,” he breathed against your skin, sending goosebumps tingling from your tailbone up to the nape of your neck, the hairs on your body standing on end. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you,” you responded before latching onto him once more. It started off loving and slow, your lips moving against one another like two old lovers dancing together– then it began to heat up, your mouth parting to accommodate his tongue, gnashing against yours as their dance turned up a notch. Your hands roamed his body, everything you committed to memory for so many years still in its same spot. It felt good, it felt like home. “Please, Aemond– I… I need you. It’s been so long… too long…”

“Too long since I’ve had you, had this,” his hand reached down, cupping your mound still hidden beneath your panties. Somehow, you foresaw this moment before it happened and thankfully wore a light dress. “Let me in, love.”

You parted your legs, feeling the ever familiar crook of his fingers slide down the front of your panties, testing the waters. The pad of his thumb and middle finger locked on instantly to your clit, swirling the sensitive bud, sending electric shocks through your extremities. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, pressing your forehead against his. “Need you inside, now.” you all but growled as you peppered little kisses along the soft flesh of his neck.

He wouldn’t keep you waiting long, as it seemed he needed this as much as you did. He parted your panties to the side, propping you on top of him and sliding you down his length, earning a hissed gasp from both of you. It took all of his strength not to burst in you right then, as you enveloped him in your tight, wet heat. “You were made for me,” he breathed, biting down on your shoulder, leaving red marks. One of his favorite things to do was to mark you, leaving hickies in his wake as he worshiped every inch of exposed skin he could reach. “Melded so perfectly, just for me.” he grabbed the flesh of your bottom, squeezing gently at first, then landing a smack on it as he began to thrust up into you.

You nodded fervently, hiccuping little moans as you dug your face into his shoulder, biting him in turn. Your nails sunk into his skin, indenting against his spine as they always had, as they always were meant to. It felt much like a pianist resting their fingers on the ivories after a long break, the pads of your fingers sinking into the ridges of his very being. You were meant to be here, he was meant to be here. You could feel your end coming on all too soon, his cock filling every nook and cranny of you, bullying that spongy, delicate sweet spot just right. You began to clench, your tell-tale sign to him that you were close. 

“I love you,” he whispered, panting slightly, using one hand to push your face back so you could meet his gaze. His wild, pupil-blown out gaze, cheeks reddened, mouth parted, brow furrowed. “I love you, I fucking love you. I missed you– fuck.”

“I l-love you,” you responded before he parted your lips with his thumb, “Love you so much– p-please, s’close.” you whined into his mouth.

“Let go, sweetheart, c’mon,” he grinned against your lips, nipping and biting at them. “Come for me.”

That was all you needed, the twine of your climax coming undone right in your core, snapping like a taut thread. Your usual habit was to hide your face in his shoulder when you came, whimpering and panting– but he didn’t let you this time. He held your face, staring at you intently as if you were a piece of fine art on display, and he was a connoisseur. 

You clenched around him tightly, spurring him to his own end. His hard wrought fingers gripped your ass like it was a lifeline, grunting as he found his release deep within you, where it was always meant to be. 

Coming down from your high, you slumped against his chest, mouth parted. Embarrassingly enough, a little drool wetted your lips. You were fully and thoroughly fucked out, not even registering that Tobey Maguire said “Pizza time!”

“Happy New Year, love,” Aemond murmured against your hair, nestling you tightly against him. He didn’t pull out– he preferred it this way, having you warm him through until you both fell asleep. 

“... Happy New Year,” you whispered back.

–

Two and a half months later, it was Valentine's day. You and Aemond were officially dating again as of January 2nd, much to the surprise of no one. 

You both took things as slow as you could, keeping separate apartments for the time being– but you’d given him a key to your place about two weeks in, and he was there all the time, taking much needed leave from work. 

Unlocking the door to your apartment, you walked in, seeing Aemond lounging on the couch with a scruffy brown furball on him. 

“Oh, Vhagar! You brought my baby,” you mused, dropping your items (with some grace, so as not to scare the geriatric cat), walking over, “Oh, I hope she remembers me.” you frowned, kneeling down and offering your hand to her.

“Of course she’ll remember, she yelled at me for a good three months at Aegon’s when we were without you.”

Vhagar sniffed your hand for a good minute before blinking her sleepy, lazy eyes at you, then promptly rubbing her scraggly cheek fur on your hand. You were elated, scratching her cheeks, hearing the tinkling of a little bell. 

“A new collar?” 

“Mhm, take a look.”

You swirled the collar around, looking for the name tag– only to find… a ring. An opal and moonstone ring. Your heart stopped in your chest as you stared at Aemond.

“I would get down on one knee– I was intending on you coming home and Vhagar running to you and then you finding it… but she’s on me, and I can’t get up. Cat rules,” he mused, unclipping the collar from her neck and slipping the ring onto your finger. “I know we’ve only been dating for… a month and a half, so stop me if it’s too soon.” he grinned, his toothy smile.

Vhagar gave a croaking meow, promptly jumping off of Aemond’s lap. As soon as the old cat was off, you threw yourself at Aemond, blubbering. “This… this…” you sniffed, unable to form words.

“Just so there isn’t any confusion… will you marry me?” he asked, wiping your tears away with his thumb.

“Yes, yes– I will,” you sniffle, burying your face in his chest and sobbing. 

He let you sob on him, getting his shirt all snotty and wet, all while smiling. 

After crying for at least ten minutes, you manage to take a picture, sending it to the group chat, with the caption: “I think we should add him to the chat now, guys.”

Ding.

“Is this group chat named ‘Aemond sucks’?” 

[improbable-outset]

📂 𝐑𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

↳ 📂 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈𝐈: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 "𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡"

{{Part 2}}

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎3 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.4k (that wasn’t supposed to happen icl)

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Kissing, PIV sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, virginal fingering, cum eating, oral (m and f receiving), prone bone position (sorry bruh, very self indulgent here 💀), Olfactophilia, slight jealous Miguel (if you squint), Spanish pet names. MINORS DNI🔞🔞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Miguel unveils more about his enhanced abilities with you and the air is quickly charged with desire. Yet lurking beneath your connection, there is a sense of uncertainty about the implications of Miguel’s extraordinary powers.

𝐀/𝐍: The chapter title sounded more amusing in my head. I didn’t think this one would turn out this long, I went a little overboard. I had to break down the paragraphs bc I got carried away ;-; anyways hope you enjoy this filth <3

You turned the key and pushed open the door to your apartment with a mix of anticipation and thrill erupting inside your gut. Tonight had been a rollercoaster of emotions, and was very eventful. Despite Miguel’s huge confession that came crashing down on you like a bolder, the night still ended well.

Though, the thought of him being Spider-Man still lingered at the back of your mind and you couldn’t shake off the feeling of your ex-husband being a human mutate the entire time. Yet you still welcomed him inside the familiar confines of your home with a warm gracious smile, the door closing with a soft click behind. In the warm glow of your apartment, you made your way to the walk-in kitchen.

“Can I get you something to drink?” You asked, glancing back at Miguel as you placed your purse on the countertop.

“A glass of water would be perfect.” He replied, taking in the surroundings of your home. You were amused by the awe in his expression as you filled two glasses with cold water from your tap.

“Here,” you handed him one of the glasses.

“Thanks” he took slow sips while his gaze explored the connected living room. Your talent for interior design hadn’t gone unnoticed, even during your early days of your marriage when you both moved in together. You would always have a plan on how things would be arranged, and with a bit of trial and error, it usually turned out beautifully. Miguel, on the other hand, left the planning all to you while he would make sure you were still fed after your hard work.

It was a distinctive dynamic you had. Miguel would always make the best dishes from back home and you adored and savoured every bite. You even tried to make empanadas for him once as a surprise anniversary gift back when your relationship was still filled with warmth and closure before you grew distant from each other with him always coming home late at night, probably from his heroic duties that you were clueless about at the time. After you went your separate ways, you would try to replicate his dishes but it would only bring you pain of what you had lost. Speaking of food…

“That baked ziti was amazing.” You commented as you took another sip. It’s been a while since you went out to eat in a high end restaurant. There was never a special occasion or an excuse for you to go.

“Was the food the only thing you enjoyed tonight?” Miguel replied in a teasing tone. You watched his face over the rim of your own glass as he said that.

“The night hasn’t ended just yet.”

“Oh? Care to elaborate on that?” He responded, clearly intrigued. You didn’t give him a verbal answer, instead you put your empty glass down on the counter and took his hand, leading him down the hall and to your bedroom. The anticipation settled in the air as you settled yourself on the bed and gestured for Miguel to follow.

“We’ve got all night. So you might as well tell me everything about Spider-Man, all the details.” You purred, your gaze locked into his with excitement.

“What do you want to know?” He lied beside you in amusement and willingness.

“First of all, what was the first thing you noticed when your genes were altered?”

“You want to get to those details hm? Well, the first thing I noticed was my vision was enhanced, a lot. Along with my strength and stamina. Oh, and the spinnerets in my forearm.”

You hummed in amusement as you soaked in every word he uttered. You couldn’t believe this was where things had ended up between the two of you but you also couldn’t help but marvel at how far you’ve come. “Well, look at you. Brawn and brains. What else is there?” You noticed he was hesitant for a moment before he spoke again.

“I'm sure you’ve seen my fangs at one point.” Your body stiffened as you recalled those awful memories of your heated arguments. What you saw from his mouth was real. A hint of relief washed over you knowing that you haven’t lost your mind and Miguel had confirmed it himself.

“I have…and I thought I was just hallucinating.” Your voice trailed off.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t blame you. I should’ve been honest from the start.”

“It’s alright, we’re starting something new now.”— you paused— “So what else haven’t you shown me.” You watched as he lifted his hand and you noticed something unusual emerging from his fingers. You audibly gasped at the sight of his talons. He brought his hand closer to your face so you could get a closer look. It didn’t occur to you how intimately close you were until now, yet there was an undeniable thrill in his proximity. Maybe it was a default habit in your mind that was convincing you that you were still comfortable with Miguel being this close.

With agonising anticipation, he lightly trailed your jaw with the tip of his talons, leaving a tingling feeling in its wake. Your breath hitched, feeling how sharp and pointy they were on your soft skin. If he were to press any harder, he would surely pierce your jaw. Not that you were entirely against that; but you didn’t want to raise any suspicions at work the following Monday, especially in a facility like Alchemax. His face was mere inches from yours and you knew where he was heading with this. The air in the room thickened with each passing second.

“You want to see more?” He asked, his voice lowered to a sultry tone. You nodded, unable to form any words.

Miguel leaned in and closed the remaining gap between the two of you. Finally, you managed to seal your longing with an electrifying connection and a scorching kiss. His lips moved against yours passionately making your heart pound in your chest. Miguel must’ve retracted his talons because now he was cradling your face as your mouth moved in sync. However, you pulled away abruptly when you felt a sudden shift in the air.

“My God…” you mumbled, feeling the familiar bugle in his pants.

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to get ahead of myself.” He said, though the strained desire in his voice was palpable. “I mean, you’re not on birth control, right?” He held his gaze at you. You could practically feel the desperation in his tone.

“No…” You leaned closer, “but I might’ve got myself the morning after pill from the drug store before this.” You were planning for this moment the day you asked him out and the way his expression dropped, you could tell he picked up on that too. You got them prior to this date and the rest of the night you spend trying to please yourself before your date while imagining yourself with Miguel in bed together. But you knew no matter how much you touched yourself, you’d never reach the sensation that Miguel could give you.

A sly smile played on your lips before you leaned in for another kiss. His arm snaked around your waist and pulled down the zipper at the back of your dress. Once it reached all the way he let the dress pool around you before tossing it to the side. He left trails of wet kisses around your jaw and down your neck, however you had other things in mind. You attempted to reach for his clothed cock as he kept kissing you and gave it a desperate squeeze, making him pull away immediately from your neck.

“That needy, huh?” He retreated off of you and removed his shirt before his pants along with his boxers— his cock springing out in its full glory. You didn’t expect him to stay at the edge of your bed and lean back slightly with his cock still standing on its end. You shifted yourself so you were now on your knees. Suddenly, you felt his hand combed your scalp before grabbing a fistful of your hair, pulling you close. “Don't just stare at it, cariño,” he tugged at you and brought your face closer to his crotch.

“Since when were you in charge?” You quipped, wrapping your hand around the length and swiped your thumb over the pre-cum that was already leaking from the tip.

“The second I realised how bad you want this by getting yourself the morning after pill. Now get to work.” You didn’t expect him to catch you off guard like that, let alone even give you an answer to your rhetorical question but now you could feel your mouth getting dry. Did he know how much of an impact he had on you with his words?

“You better not make a mess on my bed.” You joked but there was a hint of seriousness in your tone. Though you wanted Miguel to leave a mark in your bedroom the morning after, the last thing you wanted was a stained sheet to deal with.

“You realise that means you’re gonna have to swallow, right?” He cocked his brow. You knew he was right and you didn’t have anything against that. If it were anyone else you wouldn’t agree to do it at all, you wouldn’t even let them touch your hair like this; they could just fuck you and leave. But you wanted the night to last with Miguel so you’d do anything it’ll take.

The strong scent coming from his crotch mixed with the faint smell of his sweat was dizzying and ignited a fire deep in your gut. That might be the pheromones doing that. You planted small kisses on the surface as his cock twitched with anticipation and desperate to be squeezed. The stifled groan you heard from his throat made your cunt throb a little and coaxed you to keep at it.

Slowly, you wrapped your lips around the tip and took his length in his mouth. You tried to avoid scraping your teeth on the skin so you wouldn’t cause him any discomfort— given the fact that his girth was taking up a lot of space in your mouth, it was difficult. You still remember the first time you sucked him off on your wedding night and he specifically told you not to do that. His length rubbed against your upper palate while your tongue wrapped around its surface. It was taking up your whole mouth and you struggled to maintain a steady rhythm while giving it some friction. It wasn’t the most pleasurable experience having your mouth full to the point where he was almost touching your gullet, but watching his reaction made it all worth it. You kept your focus on his moans and the pleasurable sound of your name on his lips. His lascivious noises were for you and only you and encouraged you to keep your pace.

That’s it, that’s it. Let me hear you.

You noticed the muscles on his thighs clenching now. It was all familiar to you, the way his body would react when he was close to his peak. Before you knew it, you could taste the ropes of his warm jizz spilling from his cock. However, you forgot how much this man could come and you bit off more than you could chew, throwing you completely off guard. Your mouth was starting to fill up more as he released and his cum was beginning to leak down your chin— your eyes watered from the intensity and you had to pull away so you wouldn’t choke. His cock was now slick from a mix of your saliva and his remaining cum. You felt his thumb wiping your mouth before he lifted your head up to look at him.

“You okay?” His voice was still hazy and eyes still half-lidded.

“Yeah…just forgot how intense you can be.” You answered, still trying to stabilise yourself.

“Let me make you feel good then.” He gestured for you to lay down on the bed. You complied and you watched how his hands reached for your panties. His thick fingers hooked on the loop before pulling them off completely. The feeling of the open air hitting your drenched cunt, that was trapped in your panties for so long, made you shiver. His index finger rubbed against the folds first. You could hear the slick sound of yourself as he kept rubbing you. Without warning he inserted his finger in your gaping hole leaving you squirming under him. His fingers were big, so big, and though you have felt them before, your body was still not prepared for the sensation.

You gulped when his finger was fully inserted with the heel of his palm pressed against the sensitive bud. He pulled out and started pumping his digit while curling them inside you. Your breathing became more shallow as he continued finger-fucking you. Part of you wondered how it would feel if he used his talons inside you. But you didn’t want to risk anything. Things were getting so good. You tensed when you felt another one of his thick fingers being pushed inside you and you couldn’t control the whine that came out of your mouth and the way your body convulsed.

The knot inside your stomach snapped as your walls clenched hard before spilling everything. He pulled out his fingers and stuck them near your mouth, his eyes instructing you to open. You did and started sucking on his coated digit, the mix of his salty cum mixed with yours on your taste buds. You released his fingers and he plunged them back in your hole. Even with them being coated in your spit, it was still dizzying taking in his fingers, especially now that your cunt was swollen from your release— it felt a little sore this time around but the pain was easy to subside with his palm nudging on your clit.

“Come on cariño, I know you can come on my finger again.” You knew there was no point protesting. Once he had his mind fixed on doing something, he would do everything in his power to get it done. It was another thing you loved about this man. “Can those other men you had flings with make you come with just their fingers?” Ah, of course he remembered you saying that. You wondered what was going through his head when you told him. Was he jealous? Maybe he wanted to claim you again? “Tell me, cariño” You didn’t say anything to him directly but it didn’t take long for your body to spasm again and your cunt gushed with another orgasm. That was all he needed to satisfy his query. You were a panting mess by the time he pulled his fingers out of you again.

You still had enough strength to register and watch what he was doing next. He left wet kisses around your stomach and licked the exposed skin. He lowered himself around your crotch and sent trails of kisses around your inner thigh before getting to your swollen core, still dripping from your last release.

“Miguel…” you breathed, still trying to maintain your composure.

“You thought I was going to give you my cock after that?” His breath brushed against your eager cunt that was still clenching onto nothing. He was definitely doing that on purpose. “You scratched my back so I’ll scratch yours. That’s how it’s always been with us, remember? I saw how you were struggling so I thought I’d reward you for your work.” Sweet fuck, you loved this man. You chewed on your lower lip to suppress your pathetic moan. The look he was giving you between your legs only made your cunt pulsate more and your walls desperate for some friction.

All those other men you had flings with were never too focused on getting you to come. They only used the sex as a stress reliever and just wanted to reach their own climax so they could fill you up. But you never complained though, in truth, you just wanted to feel another man’s touch. Since there were no strings attached and you weren’t committing to any of them, you felt like they didn’t owe you anything like that. You thought to yourself that things will be easier for your heart to handle this way since you weren’t expected to get hurt. Your mind was so fogged with that idea, you forgot what it felt like having someone care for your needs too.

He started off with licking your folds in aching slow motion, getting you riled up. Your hands immediately reached for his hair and laced your fingers through the locks, letting out a shaking breath of approval when you felt him sucking on your sensitive bud. His mouth was giving you a better sensation on your clit than his palm, that only just barely brushed against it. He pulled away momentarily and you could see your mess glistening around his lips.

Then you saw it, his fangs emerging making your heart quicken in your chest before he dived in again, fully connecting his mouth onto your core. The sudden contact made your legs enclose around him in reflex. He lapped his tongue over the folds all while gently scraping his fangs over the sensitive areas. He was careful with his movements not to dig his canines too deep to cause any pain. It was a new feeling you’ve never felt before and you knew you’d never experience it with anyone else. Every juice leaked from your core was eagerly licked by him.

You attempted to grind your sex against his face to get some sort of friction from his tongue but his strong grip on your hips planted you on the mattress. That still didn’t stop you from squirming under him though. Your mind started to cloud with bliss and all you could focus on was his tongue movement and the feeling of his fangs grazing on your skin. He watched your reaction between your thighs as your mouth hung open. You couldn’t see his full face but through the looks of his eyes, you could tell he was giving you a smug expression as he ate up your reaction to his touches like a famished man.

You could feel your senses firing again as the heat was building up in your core. His tongue started lapping faster and flickering deeper into your cunt and you couldn’t take it anymore. Your back arched against the bed and with a desperate cry, you finally unraveled again, everything that squirted from your pussy was quickly licked off from his tongue. As he pulled away, there was a line of saliva that connected your folds with his lips that he wiped away with the back of his hand. He lapped over his fangs too that were also coated from your fresh release. He leaned into your face again and kissed you lightly. You tasted and smelled the bittersweet of yourself from his mouth as he went to suck on your lower lip.

Next thing you knew, you were gently pushing and flipped over on the bed, ass up. He had better access to your hair now and it’ll be easier to take him in this position. He held onto your back, guiding his cock through your rear. He braced himself before he made his entrance slowly. You could still taste him and yourself on the base of your tongue and you knew his cock was still coated in your saliva making it easier to squeeze between your folds. Your walls caressed every inch of him as he pushed further and further into you.

You could hear and feel the suction from yourself that gripped around his length as he pulled back only to shove himself back in again. As he did, you could feel your clit rubbing against the sheets beneath you with each force from his thrusts. The bed screeched in protest as he rolled his hips into you, forcing it to move up and down. His rhythm became more sporadic like all that pent up energy was poured into one night while your head was buried into the pillow, muffling the noise building up in your throat. You were truly helpless under him, his frame was completely enclosing over you so you were rooted on the bed being shoved into the mattress over and over again from his thrusts. Blood could be heard rushing in your ear and every pulse in your system was throbbing.

Miguel, what have you done to me? What the fuck have you done to me?!

Each thrust was more intense than the last, forcing you deeper into the sheets. You couldn’t control the noises that were coming out of your mouth now as he was desperately trying to chase the high he could only get from you and the way you were squeezing him in all the right places. You felt his fingers combing through your hair again before he tugged gently, but firmly enough to force you head up from the pillow to look at him. The red hue on his eyes were glowing against the low lighting in your bedroom as he continued to plunge himself into you.

“Talk to me…who fucks you good?” He spoke over your shoulder and over the sound of the bed creaking, his breath fanning over your ear. You caught a glimpse of his fangs as he grinned at you and you allowed yourself to be drowned by the richness of his voice. He must’ve recognised that you couldn’t form anything coherent from your mouth so he slowed down his pace to give you a chance to talk.

“You…” Was all you could muster before you slipped out another moan from your lips. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, let alone form a cognitive thought in your head.

“Say my name, querida.” He commanded, giving one strong thrust that caught you by surprise.

“You, Miguel. It’s you-!” You gasped, the sound of your own voice was sounding foreign to you. No one had ever managed that out of you. He released your hair and your head dropped back on the pillow, no longer having the strength to hold yourself up. Out of all the times you’ve been fucked on your bed, this was by far the loudest you’ve been. The walls weren’t thin but you knew you’d still be getting noise complaints by the neighbours not just from your moans but with the repeated sounds of the headboard knocking against the wall. But that wasn’t in your mind right now. Every thought was slowly melting away from your brain, even your consciousness of your surroundings as he kept fucking you. It was like every other room in the building and everyone else in the apartment didn’t exist anymore— just you and him. You couldn’t see him but the sweat building up on his skin was giving off a subtle distinguishable smell and was causing his body to stick to yours as he kept on going.

He’s close, he’s close, he’s close.

Through your teary vision, you noticed him gripping onto your headboard as leverage before going deeper inside you. There it was, you could feel his release reaching every crevice and surface area inside as his body trembled from his strong climax. The rush of his hot release made you cry out his name before he took his time to pull out. Even with him releasing his cum deep inside you, there was still some leaking out through your folds.

You felt Miguel’s torso and your back sticking together with your sweat as he took his time to lift himself off of you. Lifting your head up from the pillow, you turned to see him leaving the room, his footsteps echoed in your, now, quiet apartment. You took this time to shift and turn your body around, the sheets were slightly damp under you. Your legs were still shaking from his rough thrusts and climax. Your senses were slowly coming back to you and the pulse in your ear was slowing down. The sound of the faucet could be heard from your kitchen as Miguel filled up a glass before his footsteps could be heard again as he approached you with a glass of water.

“Thought you might need this…” He handed you the glass. With shaking hands, you took the cold glass.

“Thank you.” You downed the water in one go, feeling the coolness down your throat before placing the empty glass on the nightstand.

“Do you want to get cleaned up?” Miguel asked. Your legs were still sticky from his cum and your sweat but you weren’t worried about that.

“In a bit, let me just hold you for a second, please.” Miguel climbed into bed and lied beside you. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. His warmth enveloped you and you through us swirled in a mixture of emotions. The passion you've just shared with him is still palpable with the smell of sweat and fresh sex woven in the air. Your finger fiddled with Miguel’s collar bone before you cradled his jaw. Your heart was still going haywire even as the intimacy was starting to settle down between the two of you. Your gaze shifted to his own and your mind started to wander. You thought about the future and even started a family you’ve longed for with Miguel but didn’t dare to dream about until now.

“Miguel…do you ever think about having children?” You whispered, too afraid to break the peaceful silence.

“I do…is that what you want mi amor?” He murmured. Mi amor? You gulped.

“Yes but…with your Spider DNA, what if our children inherit them too. I want them to live a normal life but what if they face the same dangers you do? What if I won’t be able to handle it?” You confessed. Miguel caressed your cheek and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear before he spoke.

“I understand your worries, but we can’t let fear hold us back. I promise to protect you and them and I’ll try to be the best father and possibly the best husband too.” He reassured you. Amidst the doubts and uncertainty, there was still an undeniable warmth. The idea of raising a family with him felt like a second chance at happiness. You’ve both faced so much and you’ve overcome them. Perhaps you could both navigate the challenges of parenthood too. One step at a time.

“Thank you, Miguel. I think we should get in the shower to clean up now, don’t you?”

He smiled.

“You’re right. But first, don’t forget to take the pill…”

Part 4 🔞🔞

[lluxentzz]

Shot's & Swings.

Part 2. Read Part 1. if you haven't so you understand what's going on. A Caitvi story in which Caitlyn goes to the undercity again ends up at a bar and see's (her ex) drunk pit fighter vi. Swings like punches and shots like alcohol/bullets. Caitlyn is blue Vi is red. Warnings : Mentions of alcohol, vomit, pit fighting, cursing, Caitlyn being a yapper, comfort? Not proof read so sorry if there's a lot of errors, etc... Words : 3.8k

Violet sat there for a moment, looking around the - much more expensive room - she had been in only a few times prior. Her gaze shifted to the window, watching the moonlight melt against the curves of the room, looking as the gold embedded into the walls and into the ceiling - she stared at the high ceiling for a moment, thinking about how high that was for a bedroom she shifted her gaze to the trophy shelf, a bunch of metal statues sat staring into a void of nothing, each with a plate stating what rank they all sat and the profession she had won them in, the sheer size of that made the desks and tables that were cluttered with flowers (which was the first thing that flooded Vi's senses since flowers aren't a common thing in the undercity to be fair) books and letters among other things around the room - look small, as well with how spaced out and distant the room felt since of its size and height.

She looked around back to Caitlyn before she flopped onto her back, now laying back and staring at the fabric that had curtained the bed, her black hair was probably prone to rub off onto the sheets but that probably didn't matter, if it did Vi would make it up someway or another.

A few moments passed as she just stared around the room, taking in her surroundings again, she had been in the room prior but she had been distracted by other things at hand, now she could relax and actually observe her surroundings.

Caitlyn leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching Vi take in the room. Her expression was a mix of curiosity and quiet amusement.

"Funny, isn’t it?" She said, her voice smooth, but with a touch of warmth. "You’d think the wealth and space would make everything feel... comfortable. But it’s just emptiness, really. A lot of things in this place are just for show. Really doesn't mean anything at all."  She took a slow step forward, her gaze briefly flicking to the numerous amount of things in her room before landing back on Vi and sitting at the edge of her bed

"I never quite got used to it, you know. All the money, the polished floors. It feels cold, like it's too much for anyone to really settle into. But I guess it’s better than the alternative." She smiled before laughing a bit and looking up at the ceiling "Besides, I’m sure you’ll manage to make yourself at home... Even if that means leaving a few stray hairs on my bed."

Vi rubbed her head back into the blanket a bit, her head tilting to the side, her eyes straying on Caitlyn as she moved then she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. The expensive silk feeling cold and smooth in her scarred hands and against her tense neck - this one was nice, a perfect balance between comfortable and breathable unlike the thin handsewn or blankets or the uncomfortable thick ( not very warm in the first place ) winter ones that went around days after the trench freeze she had grown up with and been used to. So she would gladly lay around in these sheets all day if she had a choice but she wouldn't admit it to anyone - maybe just Cait.

Violet pushed up to look at the woman while she spoke. Her head had stopped its merciless pounding since she was removed from the bar scene, the constant spinning and gut rot remained unwillingly. She could already feel acid and alcohol coming up at times during their walk here and while she was sitting there, without moving her head she spoke; her voice hoarse and still abit slurred

"Fuck I feel like I'm gonna be sick..."

Vi mumbled slightly before she spoke again her voice more clear but was hesitant when she started - not wanting to be a needy guest in any way

"Are you able to get water?"

Vi shifted her weight to shimmy her arm out and she threw her leather jacket onto the floor. Violets shoulders bare now, the ink that was tatted into her skin peeking over the back of her shoulder slightly. She put her one arm back, propping her torso up abit. Vi let her head fall forward, her neck hurting to hold itself up, her eyes felt heavy, weak to stay open - in the back of her head she knew tomorrow's hangover would be the one of the worst ones in a while. She leaned forward, squeezing the bridge of her nose with her fingers, propping them up on her knees.

Caitlyn glanced over at Vi, her expression a mix of concern. She moved swiftly off the bed to grab the glass of water from the nearby table, coming back to sit beside her.

"Here." Caitlyn said, handing the glass to Vi.

She gently reached up, pulling the damp cloth from her shoulder and pressing it against Vi’s forehead with an almost uncharacteristic tenderness. Caitlyn didn't ask if she was okay she could see the answer written all over Vi’s face. She wasn’t.

After a moment of silence, Caitlyn shifted her gaze to the window for a second, the weight of the city outside always a bit too heavy on her mind. She could hear Vi’s labored breathing, and Caitlyn didn't comment on it, just silently stayed close.

"You’re going to be miserable tomorrow-" She muttered, more to herself than to Vi, her voice a little softer than usual. She then stood, moving to a small cabinet to grab something to settle Vi’s stomach. Caitlyn wasn’t about to let her go through the rest of the night this way without doing something.

Violet took the cup, pulling it to her lips to take a sip, her hands shaking abit as she chugged back the water, taking breaths as the cup emptied, now a few sips left. She held onto it as Cait started to wipe her face

She leaned into the touch, the damp cloth helping her cool off and relax any nerves that were ablaze, some of the makeup on her forehead slightly transferred making the towel ever so slightly gray. She tilted her head back more to give the caring woman more of her face - not wanting to be uncooperative in any way. Vi nodded as she heard her words*

"Oh I know...but I've felt worst - especially if I stay till the next morning"

She mumbled out, her eyes still half lidded and staring at the woman above her. Her hands gripped the edge of the bed, her gaze locked on Cait as she moved away to the cabinet and walk back to her. She took the final sip of water before she just looked down at the cup, gently spinning in in her hands before she looked back to the navy haired woman, looking at her with a soft almost thankful look - very different from the first look she had given her in the bar; which was angry and harsh, mean - I mean the last time she had seen Cait she had taken a blow to the stomach by the butt of Caits gun and left at the bottom of a tunnel, she was definitely hurt from that experience so her way of masking that pain was with anger.

Caitlyn stands there, eyes soft but unwavering, as she watches Vi's gaze flicker over the room. She takes a deep breath, her voice quieter this time, without the usual sharp edge her shoulder slumping down slightly

"You know, you don’t always have to act like you've got it all together."

She says, her words a little more direct, but still full of care. She steps closer, a small, almost imperceptible sigh escaping her lips.*

"I get it. Things aren’t easy. And I’m not going to tell you that everything's going to be fine, because I know that’s not what you need to hear." Her tone is calm, and steady, the kind of voice that’s almost like a silent promise.

"You’ve been through a lot, Vi, and I can see it. You don’t need to pretend you’re not feeling it, especially not with me." Caitlyn’s voice softens, her expression warmer now, though still serious.

"I’m not going anywhere, okay? If you need to talk, or if you just need to sit here in silence, I’m fine with that too. I promise I won't change." She pauses for a moment, watching Vi closely, letting the words hang between them.

Violet's face was lit up softly from the tiny bit of light outside, she pushed off the bed quickly, her arms wrapping around Caitlyns torso, closing the distance between them. Violets hands resting the taller woman's shoulder blades as she pulled her in tightly, sinking to the warmth of the other. She began to speak her words slurred a bit with emotion prior to alcohol

"I - I'm sorry I've been so - angry and complete bitch you - I've been stupid Cait -- I was trying to get rid of my feelings -- but I couldn't - I can't ! And here - here you are.. being the angel you are - helping me when ive been a bitch to you "

She spoke into Caits neck, her slightly staggering breath against her collarbone, her voice cracked slightly, showing her vulnerability to the navy-haired woman.

A few seconds later small drops of wet could be felt dropping onto Caitlyn's skin causing Vi to push her face into her neck more as she broke into a soft sob.

Caitlyn gently placed a hand on Vi's back, her touch firm yet comforting as she moved her hands up and down to try and calm her. "Vi..." Her tone was soft but filled with understanding. "You don't have to apologize. I know you're going through a lot, and I see your pain. But you don't have to push me away. I’m not going anywhere, alright? I may not understand your feelings, but I get where you're coming from. You're allowed to feel... You're allowed to break. Just know I’m here, and you don’t have to do it alone."

Caitlyn pulled her in a little tighter, letting the silence hang for a moment as she hummed softly "And no I’m not an angel, Vi. I've done some bad things... Really bad things but I’m just someone who cares. Cares more than you think... Just don’t push me away, not when you need someone the most. I'm here, always." Her hand gently stroked Vi's hair as she continued to hum to herself.

After sobbing for a few moments later she started to relax, sniffling slightly. Her grey eyes - still tear filled - felt heavy and fell shut listening to Cait hum next to her, feeling the slight vibrations. She nuzzled her nose into the others neck more, leaving tear stains on Caits neck and shoulder, her arms slightly tighting around her again, she pushed herself up abit onto her tippy toes to get more leverage. "I just.. don't want to be alone again. I don't want to loose you...  - again." she mumbled, her voice small and quiet, she took a few deep breathes after she spoke, relaxing herself. She pulled away to wipe her face with her bandages, wiping snot away from her face, now keeping that arm away from Caitlyn to avoid icky contact

"-'M sorry, I look like a sloppy messy -" she slurred out before she coughed abit, covering her mouth with her elbow.

Caitlyn would gently pull her in closer, her voice soft but steady, trying to comfort her. "Hey, it's alright. You don’t have to apologize for anything. You're not alone, not with me here." She would stroke her hair, her touch warm and reassuring. "We’ve been through a lot, but we’ll get through it together." She’d smile faintly, her tone still gentle, but there’s a touch of determination in it. "I’m not going anywhere. And you don’t ever have to worry about losing me. Not again. I promise."

She’d tilt her head slightly, her voice lighthearted, trying to ease the tension. "Now, I wouldn’t call you a sloppy mess. More like.. Well an angry oil slick to say the least.."  She said as she snorted a bit. But, let’s get you cleaned up and wash all this out of your hair"

Vi nodded and huffed a bit, stabilizing herself once more before she wiped her eyes with her fingers, her black eye makeup had smudged and started to run down her face and probably rubbed off onto Caitlyn's neck. She rolled her eyes abit at the comment before she spoke "An Oil slick? " she scoffed, her gaze flickered to her hair, her fingers moving to touch her stained hair, twisting the pink strand in her fingers. "But fine if you insist -" she huffed out, her eyes straying on the black smeared into her hair staring at it and the past it represents. Then back to Caitlyn, her head still swung with alcohol and so did her breathe - and basically her whole aura and smell was alcohol and God knows what. She smiled abit and looked over caits face again, her eyes softening again "Lead the way Cupcake" She kept her grip on Cait but soon could walk okish on her own. She stumbled beside Cait silently as they walked down the Halls off the Kiramman estate, finally reaching the bathroom, she stumbled in behind Cait.

Caitlyn rolled her eyes playfully, but there was a soft smile on her lips as she glanced back at Vi.  "Well, someone has to keep you from making an even bigger mess of yourself." She said, her tone light but still carrying a hint of concern. She led Vi to the bathroom, her steps steady and sure as always. She paused in front of the mirror, taking a moment to wipe a bit of the smudged makeup off her neck. Turning back to Vi, Caitlyn crossed her arms, her gaze softening as she saw the disheveled look in Vi's eyes. "Just don't make me regret this, okay?"    With a sigh, Cait reached for a new washcloth from one of the shelves in the bathroom and turned on the shower to wet it before turning back to Vi  "Do you need any help? Meaning do you need help washing your hair... Or can you do it yourself?"

Vi's gaze flickered across Caitlyn's stature, then to the shower abit then back to Caitlyn, her one arm/palm leaned against the sink top beside the two, Vi leaned in slowly, her other arm gently snaking above her waist, pulling her in slightly, her nose was slight upturned as she looked into the other's eyes, slightly on her tippytoes to reach her height, a slight playfulness hidden behind her eyes as she scanned over her features. "What if need my 'guardian angel' to save me" she teased, a small giggle escaping her lips, but the scent of alcohol passed as well, it had been airing off since they left but the effects still remained "Well - what I'm saying is to join me cupcake." Vi said boldly, her own breath staggering cause she didn't think she say it herself but she kept her gaze locked with the navy-haired woman. She leaned in slightly, her nose brushing against Caitlyn's, their lips a few inches apart but not touching, Vi didn't wanna overstep any unsaid boundaries if denied.

Caitlyn's expression softened at the teasing, her eyes narrowing playfully as she took in the way Vi leaned in. The words hung in the air, and Caitlyn stood still for a moment, considering them carefully, the heat of Vi’s proximity making her pulse quicken slightly. Her gaze flickered briefly to their noses brushing, the space between their lips, and then back to Vi's eyes. There was a brief flash of something vulnerable in Caitlyn's eyes, a flicker of uncertainty before she let out a soft, almost imperceptible laugh. "Guardian angel, huh?" Caitlyn muttered under her breath, her lips curling into a playful smirk as she reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You’ve always had a way of putting me in these situations." She didn't pull away, though. Instead, her gaze softened as she studied Vi’s expression, weighing what to do next. The alcohol in the air, the playful challenge in Vi’s eyes... Caitlyn couldn’t help but feel her heart race a little.

A/N : (I hate lesbian dictators guys gonna cry..../ns)

But she knew she couldn’t let this moment linger too long. With a swift, almost a bit forceful push, Caitlyn nudged Vi forward with a little more force than expected, sending her stumbling right into the shower with a soft chuckle.  "Well, I was trying to be nice, but it looks like you need more than a little moral support." Her voice carried that mix of amusement and affection, though her posture remained confident, arms still crossed in that familiar way. The doorframe seemed a little more comforting than before. "I'll be in my room waiting for you... Take all the time you need." She said taking a towel off another one of the shelves placing it where Vi could see it when she came out before walking out the bathroom

Vi stared at the bathroom door before she stepped forward out of the shower and moved to remove the bandages that wrapped around her chest, dropping them onto the sink counter. her gaze glanced up into the mirror, looking at herself, taking in everything that had happened, Vi's gaze flickered across the bruises she had obtained during the pitfits, the past they represented. She huffed slightly before she stripped down to nothing and stepped back into the shower. Vi moved the nozzle against the wall to hot water, she winced slightly as the hot water poured over her skin and rolled off of her shoulders, she stuck her head under the water a few seconds after getting used to the burn. Black ran down her back and onto the white marble below her, mixing into the water before it spun down the drain. She stared at the for a moment, her intoxicated mind keeping her locked in place for a moment before she realized she could be wasting the warm water, she looked around the shower quickly then grabbed the glass bottle that had a label that said "hair" - She stared at it for a moment before she spun it to read the directions and what it was for. She skimmed over them quickly before she followed them. Vi put her fingers into her hair to scrub out the black more before she took a step back n squeezed abit of gel onto her palms, then rubbed her hands together before she dove her now soapy hands back, turning the soap gray before she step underwater, the black running out of her head once again only leaving small traces left in the base/roots of her hair. She leaned her face back and rubbed the remaining smudged makeup off of her face before she grabbed the other bottle with matching designs and doing the directions labeled in the jar. Vi stepped out and looked at looked over herself again, before she grabbed the towel Cait had left and wrapped it around her body and walked out down the hall to Caits room.

Caitlyn stood by her closet, carefully selecting clothes for Vi. Her movements were measured and deliberate as she rifled through her wardrobe. The sound of the running water stopping from the bathroom reached her ears, and she glanced toward the door, listening?? intently. When Vi finally stepped out, wrapped in a towel, Caitlyn couldn't help but notice the subtle weariness in her posture. Cait's voice was gentle yet firm, speaking her concern for Vi's well-being. As she turned around, holding a set of clothes in her hands, she gave a small, reassuring smile.

"Feeling better?" Caitlyn asked, her gaze soft but searching, her eyes scanning Vi’s expression for any signs of discomfort or lingering pain. As she stepped closer, she gently placed the clothes on the bed before turning to face Vi again, her tone softening.  "I know the last few days have been... rough. But you don’t have to do this alone." Her eyes lingered for a moment, her lips pressing into a firm line before she continued, a little more quietly. "Let me know if you need anything, alright? You should rest." She then walked to the door and exited so Vi could take her time to change

She (Vi) gathered the clothes and unwrapped herself from the towel, folding it and placing it on the end cushion before she started to get dressed, she slipped on her shirt on first before slipping into the night pants . . .

Vi stood there for a moment she glanced out the window to the calm streets of piltover, unlike the loud/dangerous/ignorant/chaos filled/barbaric, and crude things usually lurk in the streets this late in the night, she'd never heard the streets this quiet, but it was alot safer then it is down in the uncontrollable undercity... Violet didn't know if Cait meant this bedroom - Caitlyns bedroom - to sleep in or another but she choose to slump onto Caitlyns comfortable bed, curling up above the covers, she hand her one arm sprawled out and her forearm laying across her chest. The -for once- quietness that hung in the air around her and the fact she could get a moment of safety and peace lulled her into a deep sleep, her breathing deepening and balancing out.

Hours later, Caitlyn finally came back and stepped into her room. The soft glow of moonlight filtered through the window, casting a gentle light across the room. She looked over to the bed and smiled faintly when she saw Vi already curled up there, looking peaceful for once. She walked over to the bed, her soft footsteps barely making a sound on the floor. She paused, standing at the edge of the bed and looking down at Vi, who was fast asleep, her breathing steady and calm. Caitlyn felt a rare sense of relief wash over her as she gazed at the woman she cared for deeply. Quietly, Caitlyn climbed into bed beside Vi, careful not to disturb her. She slipped under the covers, the warmth of the bed immediately comforting against her skin. She hesitated for a moment but decided to put her arm over Vi's waist holding her slightly. Caitlyn’s voice was soft and low, barely above a whisper.

"Goodnight, Violet." Caitlyn murmured, her tone affectionate, though tinged with the day's exhaustion. She took a deep breath, letting herself relax, and with Vi beside her, Caitlyn finally allowed herself to drift off to sleep.

Please do not post this anywhere but on tumblr or use it as your own. If you want to then ask for permission if denied then no is a no <33

[moo-siala]

I STILL LOVE YOU — MAX VERSTAPPEN

PAIRING: max verstappen x ex-wife fem!reader

SUMMARY: max’s ex wife finds out he’s getting married again

CONTENT: mentions of divorce, angst, sadness, cheating

NOTE: get ready to cry. i did while editing it + this is a repost from my old blog too but this one got slightly revised. some errors got fixed but it’s not 100% proof read.

As y/n sifted through the mail, she noticed a white envelope with "y/n verstappen" written in gold letters. frowning in confusion, she carefully opened it. the moment she saw the contents, she felt her heart shatter. it was a wedding invitation—specifically, an invitation to max’s wedding.

“max and eleanor request the pleasure of your company to celebrate their wedding” was written on the card in gold and black letters.

y/n felt her eyes water and closed the envelope. this could not be happening, she thought. but it’s not like her and max got divorced yesterday.

the divorce was due to his racing career. he wasn't as present as y/n and the children needed him to be, which led to constant arguments, fights, and tears until their marriage ultimately ended. this happened over three years ago, but she still couldn't understand how he had moved on so quickly. perhaps her difficulty in understanding stemmed from her own inability to move on.

she had tried everything, and by everything, she truly meant everything. she had met new people, gone on countless dates, and even ventured into the realm of online dating, hoping to find a connection that might help her move on. but nothing seemed to work. none of those men were him. some were good, hardworking, and loyal, but there was always something missing. each new encounter only served to highlight the void he had left in her life, the irreplaceable presence she couldn't seem to find in anyone else.

"mama, why are you crying?" a soft voice pulled her back to reality. "hey, i’m not crying, i just have an allergy," she chuckled, hugging leon, one of her seven-year-old twins. "julian and i are ready but he is helping emma with her bag," he smiled, hugging her back.

leon and julian were twins—practically mirror images of max. thet shared the same face, the same eyes, and the same cheeky smile that always managed to light up a room. meanwhile, emma was a carbon copy of her mother, with the exception of her blonde hair and blue eyes, inherited from her father.

the twins were only four years old when the divorce happened, and emma was just two. the process was far from easy, but both parents made a concerted effort to minimize the trauma for their children. they navigated the difficult path with as much grace and cooperation as possible, ensuring that their young ones felt loved and secure despite the upheaval. the priority was always the well-being of their children, and they did their best to shield them from the worst of the pain.

“mama! we’re ready!” julian and emma ran out of their rooms with bags in hand, “hey, be careful!” she laughed, “we’re ready!” julian exclaimed and emma giggled, “that’s good, oma will be here in no time” y/n hugged the children, or like max likes to call them, their cubs.

the doorbell rang, signaling sophie’s arrival.

about a week ago, sophie had asked if she could take the kids on a little trip to a lake she had visited with a friend near the city. after looking at the pictures, y/n couldn't say no. the children would love it, and she knew how much they enjoyed spending time with their grandma.

when she got pregnant, max suggested that it would be better to move back to the netherlands so the babies could be surrounded by family. she didn't hesitate and agreed with his proposal. while she loved Monaco, nothing could compare to having her family nearby.

when she looks back at those memories, she’s thankful that she chose to come back. she doesn’t know what could’ve been of her if she had to go through the divorce all alone in monaco.

she walked over and opened the door, smiling warmly. "hey!" she greeted, pulling sophie into a hug.

"how are you doing, sweetheart?" sophie asked, hugging her back as she stepped inside. y/n knew exactly what she meant. "i’m good," she replied softly, her smile gentle. sophie nodded, giving her a sympathetic look just as the three mini verstappens ran over to their grandma, hugging her legs and making her laugh.

"oma!" they exclaimed in unison. "who’s ready to go to the lake?" their oma asked, eyes sparkling. "me!" the cubs chorused excitedly.

they said their goodbyes as she helped sophie put the kids in the car.

“i’ll let you know when we get there” she told y/n, “sounds good, and send pictures, please” y/n smiled in return, “i will. and honey, if you need anything, just give me a call” she pulled her into a tight embrace, “i know, thank you, soph” “no problem”

—

ass the dedicated mother she was, or as max fondly referred to her, the lioness, y/n found herself feeling oddly restless whenever her children were away—simultaneously bored yet remarkably productive. with them gone, she efficiently organized weeks of work and meticulously cleaned the entire house. completing her chores left her with a sense of satisfaction, prompting a leisurely shower before descending to the kitchen to prepare a meal.

while deeply focused on cooking, the doorbell rang unexpectedly. perplexed, since she was only expecting sophie’s visit that day, she set the knife aside, quickly washed her hands, and hastened to answer the door.

“uh, hey?” she said opening the door, “hey, how are you?” max asked, “i’m good. your mom already left with the children so…” “i’m here to talk to you, can i come in?” he asked, “sure…” nodding, she opened the door a bit more for him to come in.

“are you busy?” he asked after you closed the door, “not really. just cooking” she walked back to the kitchen, max followed.

max sat in one of the stools as he watched her wash and chop some vegetables for the salad she was preparing.

“what did you come to talk about?” y/n looked up, his blue orbs finding her beautiful eyes, “i wanted to know if you got the…” “the wedding invitation? i got it today in the mail” she nodded, her tone coming out a bit dry even if she didn’t mean to sound that way.

“are you mad?” he asked, “why would i be? congrats, by the way” she said, adding her favorite vinaigrette to the salad, “don’t be like that…” he sighed, “like what? am i not supposed to congratulate you now?” her eyes found his once again.

“you know exactly what i mean, y/n” he said, “i don’t know what you mean and i’m not in the mood to fight. i’m tired and hungry, so can i please enjoy my salad?” she asked and he scoffed, “i can see it in your eyes, y/n. there’s something you’re not telling me and i want to know what’s going on” he sighed, “we’ve been divorced for almost three years, but remember we were married for four before that”

she felt her eyes water but quickly wiped the tears away.

“i’m okay, max” y/n said while grabbing a glass and pouring some juice in it, “you’re about to cry, tell me what’s going wrong, i want to help” he softly said, and that’s when she broke.

"i don't know max, maybe the fact that once again i'm the one who's going to be all alone?" her voice broke, "the fact i'm the only one who's going to come back to an empty home when the kids are spending time with you? or maybe it's the fact that for some reason i can't move on with my life but everyone else can! you did, why can't i?" by now, she were a crying mess.

move on? he never moved on. his family knew it, his friends knew it, everyone knew it, he knew it.

he was never able to move on from her, the love of his life—the woman who lifted him up when he was feeling down, who cried tears of pride after almost every race, the woman who showed him a new depth of love when he became a father, and the woman he lost because he messed up.

seeing her crying broke his heart, but it also gave him hope. hope that the woman he deeply loves, loved him back still, even if it was just a little bit of it left.

he liked eleanor. she was good with the kids and kind to y/n, but she wasn't her, and she never could be. eleanor, younger than him and eager to settle down, was someone he found comfort in, at least temporarily. he went along with the idea of marriage, thinking he had nothing to lose, until the day she poured her heart out to him. it was then that he realized eleanor could never replace the deep connection he had lost with his former wife.

"i never wanted that divorce," he said softly as he walked over to her. "and you think I did?" she sniffed, wiping away her tears. “you asked for it..." he began. "because I got tired of giving you signals and second chances that were never taken, max," she sighed, her voice heavy with emotion. she looked up at him, hoping he would understand the weight of her words.

max felt like shit, to say the least. hoy could he be so dumb? how could he throw away his family and the love of his life just like that?

“please give me one last chance, i promise i’m not going to fail you and the cubs again”, he sat next to y/n on the couch, grabbing her small hands and squeezing them softly, “max, you’re getting ma-“ “if you don’t want me to get married i won’t. i just need to hear you say it”, he interrupted her.

y/n was in utter shock to say the least. could he really be serious? the gravity of his words hung heavy in the air, leaving her struggling to comprehend the reality of the situation.

“i am serious. you know it” he said, almost as if he could read her mind, “please baby girl, i need to hear you say it”, he pleaded, staring into her eyes.

y/n took a deep breath.

“maxie… please… please don’t get married” she softly said, eyes watering and lips trembling. max sighed in relief and hugged her tightly, “i’m never letting you go, ever again” he grabbed your face and kissed her softly.

“i hope you stick to that promise” “you know i will, schatje”

[itsouttherenow]

Snippet

The following is for a fanfic I’m planning on writing. I hope you enjoy a little sadness.

She followed the sounds of guitar strings deeper into the forest whereupon she saw an old playground. It was in a disheveled state; everything was rusted and the slides were broken. As she scanned the area, Yang spotted a familiar head of blonde hair. 

Jaune was sitting on one of the swing sets, playing a slow tone on the guitar. Not a care in the world, all of his attention was on playing the guitar. He looked so at home, so comfortable, playing the guitar. Yang slowly made her way to the swing set.

Step.

Step.

St- SNAP!

And like a deer, Jaunes’ head snapped up and scanned his surroundings. His eyes meet hers’. Blue was not the only thing that she saw in his eyes. She saw panic and fear in them a swell. And like a deer.

He ran. All that bullying made him a pretty fast runner. 

Unfortunately, Yang worked out a lot more.

With a few feet between them, Yang pounced him like a predator. In the midst of their falling, Jaune tried to break free of her strong hold.

“WAIT WAIT WAIT! I J-PAH.”

In Jaunes’ attempt to free himself, he kicked Yang in the face. Bad mistake on his part as she briefly saw red. And acting on her boxing experience, she swung. Two swings and she stopped, realizing her error. 

That realization horrified her. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go and it was going badly. 

‘Gods no, I-I-I didn’t me-’

Her thoughts were interrupted when the air was kicked out of her lungs. In her staggered state, she was shoved to the ground. Jaune made to run again but his ankle was caught in the strong grip of the boxer. 

“PLEASE, JUST HEAR ME OUT. I JUST WANT TO TALK.”

It was Jaunes’ turn to talk.

“Talk!? Talk about what? To say that you’re sorry!?”

Yang nodded.

Jaune scoffed, “Oum. You’re sorry? YOU’RE SORRY!?”

Yang shriveled up a bit as Jaune began to talk.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Yang. Do you have any idea how much it hurt!”

“I’m sorry, the accident. I he-”

“I’M NOT TALKING ABOUT THE DAMN ACCIDENT!. I’m talking about you and Cardins’ little ‘joke’.” That joke part was said with so much venom that Yang felt small.

“Do you know how much it hurts? How it hurt knowing all the smiles and laughs of yours were fake. All those moments that we shared. The secrets we, I, told. Do you know how much it broke me knowing that it was just all for the amusement of a couple assholes?”

It was becoming harder and harder for Yang to hold back her tears.

“I know, I know I fucked up. I do. But please, hear me out. I just want to make things right. Right with you.”

“I don’t believe” Jaune brought his hands to head in disbelief, “You fucking think that I will EVER want to have anything to do with you. You ruined my life. Your little stunt at my school, I was trying to not be seen. But now I’m hearing rumors about you and me being exes. I may never trust anyone with my heart ever again.”

That last part was said in a soft, whispering tone. He looked back down at Yang.

“Do you know how much that hurts? That everytime I talk with someone, I’m thinking what their true intentions are.”

Yang rose to try to grasp at Jaune, only for him to step back. To step back…in disgust.

“Don’t talk to me. I don’t ever want you to try to find me again.”

As turned to run, he stopped a few feet away.

“I wish that crash had killed me.” 

With that, Jaune ran into the forest as fast as he could. Not even bothering to spare a glimpse back at her. Yang fell to the ground and hugged her knees, then she noticed the guitar that Jaune had left behind. She crawled to it and cradled it. On her knees, she strummed a string.

All that was heard in the forest for the next hour were the sounds of wailing.

[meowrimo]

YOU CAME? YOU CALLED. ༉‧₊˚.

ft. exboyfriend kuroo !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : ex boyfriend kuroo comes to your rescue and you reminisce on why exactly you broke up in the first place.

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : hurt/comfort. slight angst with happy ending ? — WC : 500.

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : fitting for my first blurb here methinks. cant go anywhere without my tetsu ;( !! made him hold my hand the whole time i was moving blogs. enjoy !!

“you came.”

just seeing kuroo’s face brought back every emotion you had hastily stuffed deep in your heart. the feelings you didn’t want to face since your break up. the pain of it was too much to bare so you had encased your heart in something impenetrable — something no one would ever have access to again.

but the mere sight of him demolished it all in an instant, an explosion that had you nearly clutching at your chest as the pain spread all throughout your body.

it wasn’t always like this — in fact, it used to be such a fairytale romance. one that always had your stomach filled with butterflies and your head so far up the sky you could grasp any star your little heart wanted. his love made you feel like you were on top of the world.

but when you fell and he wasn’t there to catch you anymore — it shattered every bit inside of you. no longer could you call him to tell him about your day. the good, the bad, all the little streams of thoughts you had. the last few weeks had been hell.

images of heavenly love flood through your mind, seeping down into your veins and carrying it’s way to your heart. the unrelenting head never stood a chance against the ever forgiving heart — a futile battle when kuroo tetsuro was involved.

warm summer nights and cozy winter mornings come to mind when you think of your happier moments together. kuroo was always a caring partner, ever observant of even the tiniest details. the kind that found joy in fixing the strap of your favorite pair of heels when they snapped, the kind to pick up your favorite take out on his way back from work — no matter how late it was.

he always looked after you, taking care of you in ways no other person has, or ever will, amount to. the memories from your break up were too hard to dissect, knowing that if you looked too closely, you’d see the error of your ways.

how both of you were completely stupid, letting an argument over the fact the two of you haven’t seen each other in awhile take precedence over your very relationship.

tensions had been high and like an overly stretched rubber band — it snapped. you snapped. and in turn, so did he. mismatched words spilled from your mouth that in no way lined up with what you felt in your heart. but the hurt had taken over, casting a dark plague over everything that surrounded you.

honestly, you’d do anything to take it all back. to break down in front of him and tell him how much you missed him. it truly had not been your intention when you summoned him over, but the thought was creeping up your spine, desperate hope blooming in its wake.

the howling wind brought you back to the present. there was a beat of silence as he tried to catch his breath. his hair was matted to his forehead as he hunched over. it was clear he got here in quite the hurry. he slowly straightened up, squaring back his shoulders as that familiar smirk slinked along his features, his amber eyes warming you up with just a single look.

“you called.”

[theanxiousghostartist]

TMAGP 37 - Scrutiny spoilers below

Reactions and Theories

Reactions: Georgie!!! Sam!!! I've missed you two!!

I wonder who the doctor is.

Yay! He's not arrested!

Ok, so they are currently hunting [ERROR], makes sense

Georgie, that's really sweet!

They are protecting him for now, again, makes sense.

MELONIE!!!??????? OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG

Wait, noooo, I wanna hear Melonieeee. Dammit [Error]. (/lh)

It sees Ash? Are they worshipping it?

Ash Pines -> giving themself to [Error] in terms of fear

It was in their dreams????

Their fear was originally that of being seen and now it's being alone? It's doing a call and response? That's new! That tone switch was harsh /lh

Ohhhh fatphobia, not greatttt

Jesus, these kids are cruel.

Holy shit???? WTF is with these teachers??? What is their mom on??? He's distracting them???? WTF???

Oh, no they internalized the fatphobia.

The sisters threw Ash's shoe??? WTF???? Parent's night to discuss what's wrong with your child? WTFF???

Honestly, breaking a leg during tennis is something I would do /lh

Ash was so surrounded by toxic people oml...

Dream? So, it's putting her to sleep as it kills her. WTF does the transcript mean 'the Archivist slowly dissolves back into the wind' IT CAN DO THAT?????

Melonieeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!

AND SHE'S BLIND AND USING HER CANE ON PEOPLE! I LOVE HER SM

The small talk is amazing.

So cell network and electricity are still down...

THE FEARSSS??????? CORRUPTION???? VAST???????? CREEPY AVATARS???? I'M SCREAMING EYEPOCOLPSYE

THE RITUAL MENTIONED???? THE MAGNUS INSTITUTE MENTIONED???? OMG

THE EYE MENTIONED!

GEORGIE AND MELONIE'S ENDED CONNECTION TO THE FEARS MENTIONED!!!

"Short version? We undid the ritual, blew up the tower and kicked all the supernatural forces to the curb. And lost some friends in the process." Are we talking about Jon and Martin and Daisy? Is Basira ok??????

It was only a week of real time???

Chaos makes complete sense.

So the fears made impacts on the actual landscapes as well.

Revenge killings would also make sense...

So they weren't able to organize in time...

Panopticon mentioned!!! British guy with a posh accent - Jon or Jonah??? Who are we blaming??? You know, with the way Jonah planned everything, Jon probably took the fall...

The Wardens are all volunteer...

Zones are the locations that got polluted by too much Fear, which would make sense, as they were so close to Jonah

The power has been given to the people then. I suppose it makes sense, with the Avatars tending to be higher ups.

"Mostly we were just sat in that manky old archive reading paperwork and feeling sorry for ourselves." <- most accurate description of the Archives

So they are thinking it's Jon.

Go Sam!! Connect those dots!!

Melonie destroying the tape recorder is amazing, but, it seemed to stop when she found it? Dare I say it is controlled by something with sentience?

Theories:

This episode has so much new information and I am screaming.

This universe is basically confirmed to be TMA!verse. While I do enjoy the ambiguous ending, I also like learning about what happened to the characters. That leads me to my theory regarding Basira. She was in TMAGP!Verse as a teacher, but in TMA!Verse she was an ex-cop. And Melonie said that Georgie and her are the only two people who knew what happened. However, Basira was there too. All of that leads to multiple possibilities:

Basira died - Either killed helping people, in a revenge killing, or in a zone, she is dead in this universe. While I really hate this option, based on the information we have right now, this is probably the most likely option.

Basira, Georgie, and Melonie had a falling out - Something happened, which I honestly have no clue of what. Something happened and Basira left. Perhaps she didn't want to deal with the Fears anymore.

We just haven't met her yet - Melonie and Georgie are either hiding her from Sam and or just forgot to mention her as of late.

Next, I think we have to talk about [Error]. We still don't know who it is. Georgie and Melonie are assuming it could be Jon. There are so many theories too: Literally any of the Archival Assistants, a fragment of Jon and/or Jonah, an old archivist, someone who was a minor character in TMA, someone we never met, etc.

No matter who it is (or was) - it's getting stronger. It manipulated Ash through their dreams before it fed from them. It's playing with its food.

I'm really loving that Georgie and Martin are taking up a similar role to Gerry and Gertrude in TMA. It's ironic that Jon (assuming Jon is our Jon) sent Sam (and Celia) to the people who he thought could help (which they didn't really in the end), only for the TMA!version of someone so close to Celia to help him.

I think those are all my thoughts for now. This episode was pretty information heavy, so I'm really excited to see if the next episode will be information heavy for TMAP!Verse as well!

[judesmoonbeauty]

The Past Records: Ellis & Jude Bonus CG Story

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do NOT post my translations elsewhere. Also, feel free to ignore my random commentary.

Translation notes are marked with *** Alternate translation is marked with///

Days after the submission of the report on Jude and Ellis by members of the Crown -

Victor: You know why I called you two together, don't you?

Ellis: First assignment for Crown?

Victor: Yes! As expected of Ellis, your ability to understand is a perfect score of 100 points.

Jude: Whether or not I accept depends on the nature of the assignment, though.

Jude: Even if Her Majesty the Queen ordered me to do it, I wouldn't accept an assignment that would be to my detriment.

Jude: I will not kill people unconditionally at the behest of others unless the conditions are satisfactory.

Victor: Ha, I'm well aware that you are that type of person.

Victor: You can wait until you've been briefed before you decide if you're up to the task.

Victor: What about Ellis? Any conditions?

Ellis: My job is to shine shoes, so any mission is fine.

Ellis: If I'm going to kill them, I'd like to kill them at their happiest moment, but I don't think I can say that on a mission.

Ellis: My terms are..... I'd like to at least make sure they don’t suffer, how about it?

Victor: I see. I guess it's possible in some cases that Jude is NG but Ellis is OK. (He didn’t just say NG omg 😭✋🏻)

Victor: Although, I think you will both agree to it this time.

Ellis & Jude: ?

Victor: There was an ex-convict you were taking care of off duty who was trying to make a deal for those drugs, wasn't there?

Victor: His buddies have apparently been released and are plotting to re-offend.  I want you to lure them in and wipe them out.

Ellis: Hmm ..... I didn't know his friends were still around.

Jude: How do we wipe them out….

Victor: I don't care how you do it, as long as you prevent recidivism.

Jude: ……

Victor: Negotiations are concluded, right?

Jude: Yeah, I'll take care of it.

Ellis: I'm good too.

Victor: Good. Okay, then. 

Victor: Loyalty to your evil.

A plume of purple smoke rises from a corner of London Harbor.

Ellis: You should quit smoking. That's what Roger said too.

Jude: It's more convenient to smoke. Kids should shut up.

Ellis: You said you smoke to socialize with a lot of business partners who smoke, but right now you don’t have anyone to socialize with.

Jude: I didn't say I didn't smoke when they weren't around.

Ellis: Jude's "happiest day" is yet to come, and I hope you live a long life.

Suddenly, Ellis broke off.

Immediately after, several men with murderous, bloodshot eyes surrounded the two in the darkness. 

Jude: Why should I live longer for you?

Not caring that he was surrounded, Jude exhaled another cloud of purple smoke without even drawing his weapon. (He’s so badass.)

Ellis: Because, Jude, you hate breaking promises, don't you?

Ellis, still smiling, slowly pulled two knives from his leg sheath.

The moonlight reflects dully on the knife.

Tonight the moon was shining brightly in the clear night sky.

Ellis: The moon is beautiful tonight, too.

Jude: Yeah, I feel like shit.

Ellis: Come to think of it, how should we end up disposing of them? Kill them?

Jude: We're going to hurt him enough to the point of death, and then we're going to restrain them.

Ellis: Copy that.

Man with Bloodshot Eyes: Are you the ones who caught my brother with the drugs and beat him to death?

Man with Bloodshot Eyes: Were you the ones who went out of their way to tell us to come to the harbor at 25:00? 

Man with Bloodshot Eyes: Don't think you'll get out of here alive!

Starting with each of the leaders who jumped out, the men rushed in.

Ellis: I'm sorry, but it's our job to lure you in  and wipe you out.

Ellis: You're the ones who won't make it out alive.

Ellis: Oh, but don't worry, I won't kill you right now.

Ellis: You might be happier to die here, but ..... 

The game was easily settled.

Ellis: Is this all of them?

Jude: The number of people on the list is 13. The number of pieces of trash lying around is 2, 4, 6……..13.

Ellis: All of them.

Man with Bloodshot Eyes: What are you gonna do to us?... Ugh!

Jude sits down on the man's back and the crushed man lets out a muddled scream. 👌🏻 

Jude: What a loud piece of trash.

Jude: Well, it's natural to be concerned about what will happen to you if you lose your bodily freedom.

Jude: I'm going to ask my brothers to help me with the experiment.

Man with Bloodshot Eyes: Hic….experiment?

Jude: You may go blind or become a little demented, but you rarely lose your life.

Jude: Compared to the people who were drugged and killed by you, that’s a hell of a lot better isn’t it?

Man with Bloodshot Eyes: Hey, hey, please...

Ellis: Poor thing….

Ellis: I need to help Jude be happy, so I can't ….help you. Sorry.

Jude's hand touched the man's forehead, and the man whirled around and lost consciousness.

Ellis: I hope this brings you a little closer to your happiness Jude. 

Ellis: Come to think of it, this was my first mission with you Jude.

Jude: What?

Ellis: It's no different from what you normally do.

Jude: Idiot? Things are different.

Ellis: ?

Jude: Besides the fact that we can torture them, we’ll get paid for the mission.

Ellis: Jude, you look really bad…..

Jude: You're so noisy. If you've got time to waste, throw these guys in the wagon.

Ellis: Yes.

Victor: Hmmm...thanks for the report! From what I've read, it sounds like it was a smooth first mission.

Victor: So you can say that I was a good judge of people!

Jude: Don't look at me, your face is annoying.

Victor: That’s terrible.

Ellis: I'm glad it went well. I think I can handle more missions like this in the future, Victor.

Victor: You guys really are opposites……I think I'll call you the candy and whip duo.

Victor: By the way, as for the "disposal" of the criminal group, it was mentioned that all of them were killed.

Victor: You actually took them in for some kind of interesting research, didn't you?

Jude: !

Ellis: You noticed. How?

Victor: I'll keep that part a secret, I guess. But you don't have to lie in your report. I'm the one who entrusted you with the mission.

Victor: As long as you stay true to your evil, I'm fine with that.

Jude: How much do you know about this?

Victor: I only know what I can see on the surface. You all headed there on foot, but a horse-drawn carriage left the scene.

Victor: I heard that in addition to the Crown Castle, your workplace, and your clients, there is another facility of some kind that you frequent.

Jude: You've got spies all over England, pervert!

Jude: Out of all Crown members, you’re the one I know least about. 

Victor: Haha, that's not true. I’m a simple person.

Ellis: Simple?

Victor: I’m a man who will do anything to protect your freedom.

Victor: But I can't see into your hearts. So I'd be happy to learn more from you in the future.

Victor: I'm talking about your favorite type, your hobbies, your three sizes, and so on!

Ellis: …………….

Jude: I gotta go to work, Ellis.

Victor: Don’t ignore me! That hurts!

Victor: Hehe.

Victor: How very Crown-worthy, aren’t you? I'm so glad you've joined us.

Victor: Hopefully, the crown will shine above your heads as well!

[Master List]

[millidew]

even the old and doomed bitter exes were young and optimistic once (lots of notes and hc under cut)

some notes/ideas:

1950-60s inspired in fashion and values. is pokemon wwii a thing? would that just be the pokewar ??? was oak a post war baby surrounded by veterans failed by their government because they were from a town with like 2 houses? what is the truth

samuel oak (but everyone calls him sammy) is a kid from some small town with a goofy haircut and big dreams of discovering/inventing something new. he has a “pull yourself up by the bootstraps” mentality and a growing cocky streak like blue. he’s both friendly and determined (some would call him pushy), which is how he met agatha (bothered her until they became friends), and is seen by the town as someone who could put pallet on the map. he sees the potential in people in pokemon and always tries to make them the best he thinks they can be. he’s always had his sights on research/science and used his natural talent for battling to reach it

as he gets older his stubbornness and habit of putting his projects above everything else becomes more apparent

agatha is from a traditional spiritual family with a liking for scarier pokemon since they keep neighborhood troublemakers away from her (and help her get away with her own troublemaking.) she’s petty and vindictive and sneaky. most people don’t like her much. in fact, she probably snuck away for her own journey and resolved not to come back until she’d made a name for herself or something. she’s restricted by social and gender expectations and can’t wait to be a crotchety old woman

she met sammy on their journeys, and they ended up becoming friends-rivals, in that their friendship was built on a rivalry, despite agatha pretty much always losing

most people in those days just went a few routes down before going back home, but both have something to prove and big ambitions. unlike him, who seems to have a natural affinity and talent for battles, she feels has to work harder for it. so we have beloved talented upstanding country science boy VS ostracized skilled sneaky slightly-less-country ghost girl.

agatha likes sammy best when he’s putting his all into battle (a crimson flame quietly burning…..), not that doing silly nerd stuff. she likes him best when he’s not on some high horse. when he left to focus on the pokédex after rising to such a high trainer rank with her, and seemingly cast battling/her aside without second thought, she felt betrayed and like he was wasting his natural talents. if she had that innate talent, she’d never throw it away.

who needs a “”pokedex”” anyways? back in her day they had to learn from trial and error. kids these days are so soft. are you planning to write a guidebook for the elite four too samuel??

samuel (sammy is too childish for him nowadays) thinks this is very immature of her. his passions have always lied in research (he spent so much of his journey drawing and notetaking! was she purposefully ignorant?). did she think they’d play with pokemon forever? he needs a real job! a job that will let him play with pokemon…for science

obviously they’ll just never speak to each other again (this lasted for like 2 weeks until he contacted her)

agatha thinks he’s just as bullheaded and petty as she is and just doesn’t like being called out on it now that he’s the respectable professor samuel oak. this guy once got ran over by a pack of oddish because agatha told him he should track the pokemon’s sleepwalking patterns!! she laughed in his face! he bought her gloom perfume years later and the empty bottle is probably still somewhere in her house!!!

they continued to be exes of fluctuating bitterness for like 4 decades. samuel went home, got married, had children who gave him grandchildren, revolutionized the field of pokémon study a few times, and agatha cultivated her creepy witch image, joined the elite four, sent every challenger away with a new ghost phobia for fun, became a trickster mentor for a young lance, and simply refuses to die of old age out of spite

samuel is a family man who wanted kids and agatha Did Not. but uh in the end he lost all his kids so. they had other issues but that was also one of them

oak is harsher on his grandson because he sees himself in him. he feels like strictness and commitment was what he needed as a child (he had to develop that later on), but instead ended up making blue rebellious. oak’s pride in his hometown (establishing a lab there instead of a bigger city) made blue embarrassed of it. oak doesn’t think battling should be a full time job (and certainly wasn’t viable in his time!) (he swears agatha stays on the elite four just to sprite him), and that he should have a second venture (like research!) just in case. samuel certainly wasn’t satisfied with just battling when he was blue’s age! his grandson is clearly intelligent, but he’s wasting his talents at his gym, and he’s always ignoring his gym leader duties anyways. he’ll grow out of it one day just like samuel did, and when he does, samuel will get him a job with one of his colleagues

just switch battling and research around and this sounds a little familiar

oak’s views on his granddaughter uhhhh good with housework and kids which is useful because he stays late at the lab too often to do any of that and most of his work can’t hold the attention of any 6 year old that isn’t red. i don’t think he had any plans for daisy like he did for blue… yikes!

agatha would not be pleased which is why she’s not allowed to see them because she’d convince his nice granddaughter to quit her job and join a gothic band or something

on red, oak sees him struggling socially and also relates to him, because he’s a kid who clearly loves pokemon and likes to draw. so he gives him more attention, unintentionally making blue feel excluded, resulting in him acting out for attention. oak doesn’t see the correlation. this is an example of oak’s good intentions combined with his one track mind and his idea of how the world should work making HIM the one who struggles socially. if he’d shared that story about getting run over by the oddish maybe blue wouldn’t see him as such a serious looming figure in his life judging his every move

agatha thinks red is a good kid, shakes her head at daisy, and likes blue because he’s a little tyke. blue doesn’t like to think about his gramps’ love life so he tries to avoid her (it doesn’t work)

anyways everyone involved is very stubborn and a little self centered and bad with feelings so no one is admitting defeat without intervention

hmm naturally talented socially awkward stubborn pokemon lover beloved by their community and their colder, skilled (but nonetheless second place) rival with a chip on their shoulder who feels left behind. all roads lead back to reguri

oak and agatha are on much better terms nowadays though, her spininess is just part of her personality

he calls her an old friend and rival and holds her in high esteem and she calls him a has-been with the personality of lint

[gnabnahc317cb97]

Changbin

The Island 💔☁️🔥

You and your party were surrounded by water and trapped on an island with a hostile foe or as some people a bit less dramatic than you may say... you were on holiday with your best friends and well... Seo Changbin aka the hostile foe. So he wasn't a friend per say but you hoped to turn that around on your vacation get away with the guys. Or... maybe not?

Blinded 💔☁️🔥

After a failed date your friend Changbin stops to see you and get some insight on the situation but before he can you lose it on him and kick him out. When Minho and Jisung explain to clueless Changbin the error he's made he worries he may not be able to fix his fuck up. Can you forgive his blindness?

Strength Training 💔☁️🔥

When your new trainer, Seo Changbin, finds out the motivation behind you hiring him he's willing to do everything he can to help you with your body image issues. A part of the 'Thick Reader Series'

Mind Over Matter 💔☁️🔥

A sequel to Strength Training. After having sex with your new trainer you start to avoid him. When Changbin finally runs into you he asks you out on a real date but your ex-husband is hell bent on making your life miserable. A part of the 'Thick Reader Series'

Remote Wrestling 🔥

Changbin invites you over for the weekend but refuses to hand over the remote when you ask for it triggering a wrestling match between you and the buff man child.

Rub Down ☁️(?)🔥

When your masseuse cancels on you last minute and Felix isn't handy, Changbin, disreguarding his crush on you, offers up his massaging services.

A Familiar Face 💔☁️🔥

When you see a familiar face in the crowd, you know who he is. You think. You just can't figure out how.

Drunk Confessions pt 4 💔☁️

After the worst day of your life you drink with your friend Changbin and the truth serum that is tequila betrays you.

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

[l00na24]

I Got Your Six (Series) Masterlist

Pairing: F!Reader x Benny Miller/ F!Reader x TF Boys

Rating: 18+, NSFW, MDNI

General Warnings: Violence, Blood, Language, Angst, etc. Each chapter has specific warnings

This story contains mature content. If you continue reading, you agree that you're old enough to handle it!

A/N: Hello 😊 This is my first fic/ series I'm posting here and the first time writing for the TF boys too, so please don't judge :) English is not my first language but I try my best, so apologies in advance for possible grammar or spelling errors.

This whole thing was an idea of mine for quite a bit now, thanks to being obsessed with Benny Miller and the rest of the boys since first watching Triple Frontier a few months ago and reading a lot of masterpieces of them here. I was debating on trying and posting it but in the end I wanted to take the leap and give it a go. I really hope you enjoy reading it 💕

Summary:

They were not prepared for the moment they lost their most precious thing…

You.

They didn’t know what happened to their little, sweet and innocent butterfly that got ravaged by the raging monster inside that finally clawed its way out of its dark cage…

How do you tame a monster that surrounds itself with its own darkness and kills everything that even dares to come close?

That destroys everything in its path?

That you don’t recognize anymore?

Is it worth saving?

Maybe, and just maybe, four ex-special forces guys actually could accomplish the impossible…

But for sure it ain’t gonna be easy…

Will they make it? Gonna have to see that.

🌿Chapters🌿

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 /

[nia-cin]

Backburner

I've been a slow learner these past few years when it comes to my friendships. It's been a trial and error for me as I went through moments of clarity at the lowest points of my life. A humbling experience, indeed.

Bridges: I've burned, abandoned, and left the foundation to rot. I've mended a few and just overall stopped showing up altogether. People can be so inconsiderate, insensitive, and irrational. In friendship groups this may be tolerated somehow, especially if you knew this person for a good decade. At this point, you either accept this version of them (at 24) or you decide these people are not the ones you wish to keep tabs with for the rest of your life.

I have become a backburner friend for a very long time. A trauma dump group chat. A trauma dump go-to and one call away friend. I'm the most accessible house. I'm an initiator. I make things and plans happen and I don't let social status, distance, or job titles get in the way when a hangout MUST happen. I'm a listening ear. I'm the one you call when you need to hear the words you need to hear. At some point, I've even become an accomplice when someone chose to become a cheater and chose my house as their secret meeting place.

In retrospect, maybe my 14 year old self put this on herself because of her own ideals and beliefs. I can't blame her. My morals, my beliefs, and my ideals were all to please an invisible authority.

However, at 23 and even at 24, the realization of who and what kind of friends you want to keep will dawn on you like a flu on a random Wednesday. I needed to find my tribe - my soul circle. One I can finally call my own. Given to me by the universe. Given to me by Him.

What came with that realization is this: Being a friend is a thankless job when you're in the wrong circle.

I would jump puddles, put forth my resources, and give it to you if you wanted it. I'd gift you a battlepass, supply you the load you need as you quarantine on a facility, hug you on the worst day at your new job, and listen to you for hours ranting about your toxic manipulative boyfriend whom you haven't left after all the bullshit he put you through. I will wait hours on a mall just because your cheating ex-boyfriend wanted to give you flowers and could only ask me to give it to you. I will unthinkably lend you my savings just so you could buy new glasses at work because your rich businessman boyfriend can't even think of helping you out. I will lend my house, my PC, and my internet connection so you can finally land the job you desperately needed in the last 3 years because I know how much it matters to you.

You will drink your heart out when your toxic boyfriend who threw your clothes on the roof last week just told you he didn't want you anymore (btw, what the fuck?). Then invite me over only to have me look after your muddy, drunk, and vomiting asses. Still, after everything, apologies were superficial and nothing changed: you're all still self-centered, self-gratifying, and sorry excuses for friends.

On my worst days, you will tell my ex-boyfriend who's distressed after provoking my depressive episodes that you're too tired to deal with me and you'd rather sleep because you need to be early tomorrow. You will tell friends behind my back after visiting my dead father's wake that I was the problem anyway - that my toxic, manipulative, sad boy, unemployed, and emotionally constipated ex-boyfriend was unlucky to have me. I will call you on my worst days and you will give me 10,000 excuses to not be there. I have stopped asking.

Maybe we outgrew each other a long time ago. I've stopped giving a fuck because I know you're all still the same anyway. And you probably will still remain the same - in your comfort circles, surrounded by variations of the toxic, manipulative, and superficial fools you call your friends/lover. That's your punishment - you are who you are.

In my mother's wake, never step foot on my family home ever again. You never deserved the space. So, please, have some decency and fuck off.

:)

[onewmin]

the perfume on the shelf. pt. 1 | bangchan

Pairing: Bang Chan x Fem!reader

Summary: Falling in love with your best friend was never a part of the plan. So you end it up. But does he want to put a stop to it, too?

Warnings: A slight au, profanity, angst, slight smut, mentions of emotional abuse, unhealthy relationships, typos, maybe punctuation errors, a lot of references to Taylor Swift and Olivia Rodrigo’s songs, but mostly blondie’s music

Author’s note: very self-inserted in parts with parents, toxic exes and therapy lol hope you enjoy!

Part 2

Disclaimer: the names and appearances of real people are used for inspiration and writing purposes only. I do not claim anything, everything belongs to its owners.

Tangled in silk sheets, sinking into the colour red surrounding you, you watched him stand up and get dressed, then turning left to take his phone from the nightstand. Closing your eyes quickly, you felt a kiss on your temple.

“Goodnight, baby”.

A sweet whisper sent shivers down your spine, but you kept your sleeping façade present: he couldn’t find out you weren’t asleep. Otherwise, it’ll be harder. Otherwise, you’ll make him stay for another hour, entangled, glistening, lost in pleasure. It’s better if he leaves, it’s always better.

You listen attentively to him collecting his things — car keys, his beanie, bag — and shutting the door on the way out. You hear his keys turn in the door, and regret the moment you gave him a spare one. And as he left, your hands were at your eyes, covering the tears. There was no point in muffling your cries other than for them not to turn into full howls. You were so tired, exhausted of being just a rebound to Chan. Because that’s what you were — a shadow of someone he loved.

You, on the other hand? He didn’t love you. As a friend, yeah, but as a woman? His woman? Never. Never in a million years. Or so you thought.

Sitting on the bed, you wiped the tears from your cheeks, and let out a breath. No, you couldn’t do it anymore. The further this situation progressed, the less you recognized yourself. Chan wasn’t a bad guy, no. It’s just… Despite your big age, despite the built up persona of a mature adult, in the end, you were a naive, broken girl, who just wanted to be loved. Even if this love was collected by you from crumbs of attention Chan was giving you as a potential partner.

Your cat jumped on the bed, coming closer to you; immediately purring after you petted her, and lied down next to your legs. The only living being that loved you unconditionally and the one you loved more than anything. Although you did joke to Chan she grew more fond of him than of you, and he laughed, taking her into his arms and scratching behind her ears. She did love him, too. And he loved her. At least, he loved one part of you — your cat.

Standing up from the bed, followed by a quiet “meow”, you came up to the window. The moon lit an empty street, where Chan’s car was parked just minutes ago. You loved watching him pull up, with a takeaway in his hands and eyes glued to your window. Waving at each other, grinning — he was to see his closest friend, and you…

What about you?

Shit, you wished there was never anything between the two of you. No friendship, no sex, nothing.

You remembered the first time your friendship took a dangerous turn, when his plushy lips landed on yours in a ferocious, drunken kiss. You both were wasted, drinking to ease your sorrows and pain. Both being broken up with your partners at approximately the same time, Chan and you decided to talk, while sharing a bottle of wine. A bottle turned into two, and then three, and you both were crying, cursing your exes, and you found yourself in his lap, fingers tugging on his hair. And his hands on your waist, controlling the way you grinded against him. You remembered sweet nothings whispered into your skin, his gentle, soft palm on your cheek while he was pounding into you. And the look in his eyes, so intense, as if he was starring right into your soul.

Maybe that was the moment when you fell in love with him. Or maybe you convinced yourself you loved him just so you wouldn’t be alone. You really didn’t know. Your therapist said you’d gotten into yet another unhealthy situation, and you believed her, you did. However… Chan wasn’t like your ex. He wasn’t emotionally abusing you, wasn’t turning every happy moment of your life into a nightmare because he was envious. Chan wasn’t a narcissist — a type of guys you tended to fall for in the past. You decided to put a stop to toxicity, and Chan, you thought, sex with him would be an amazing distraction. Oh boy, were you wrong.

“You tell this story, and yet, the guy you’ve been talking about is emotionally, romantically unavailable, right? Isn’t it the same type you’ve been trying to avoid?”

Yeah, your therapist was not in the wrong here. Narcissistic guys, who took everything from you — your emotions, happiness and will to love — unfortunately, were your type. The ones you’d been collecting, falling for, because you didn’t know any better. Repeating the scariest scenario — your mother’s. You were running away from the image of a man, who had never said anything nice to your mom and you, the man, who was selfish and full of shit, the man, who was emotionally abusive and never apologized for his harsh words and actions. The image of your father, and the relationship between two adults you got dragged in against your will. Being involved into it since your early teenagehood, you didn’t know the image of a healthy family, and what’s more important, you had no idea what healthy relationship looked like. One thing to see it in movies and saying,

“Hey, that’s so easy!”

And another one to fulfill it in real life. Your father never complimented your mom, never told her he loved her — the usual, embarrassing things healthy couples do in front of their kids. He was emotionally unavailable, drained, you used to say. Casually cruel for the sake of being honest, the man himself stated. And yet, your mother never left him, even after complaining to you, how tired she was of the rows he was picking.

“Get a divorce”.

“And stay alone when I’m old? Who needs that?”

You stopped giving advice. She would never listen and you’d never help her. She was inserted in this scenario by herself and was never willing to leave it.

And now you were following into your mother’s footsteps, running to the guy type you despised. But daughters tend to repeat their mothers’ mistakes, don’t they?

Although Chan wasn’t like that. He was your friend first (the only guy friend you’ve had in years), and the way he treated you just as a friend… Needless to say, not a guy your mother would even consider looking at herself, when she was younger. But whenever you spoke of him?

“I think he’s in love with you, honey”.

What did she know about love? Didn’t she marry a guy after a couple of months just to have a baby?

So, you never took your mother’s words about Chan seriously. The relationship with your parents was messy, even after years of therapy. You never felt at ease with them, not when talking about your studies, not when having a family dinner. Your mother had a picture of a “stable, happy family” in her head, and that picture was bright and shiny in her eyes. However, she never considered that picture being a façade for a real monstrous family portrait, hidden in the attic. Very Dorian Gray of her, you used to think.

And then there was Chan. Maybe the first man you didn’t consider to be an asshole. He took you to the movies, walks, everywhere — and never demanded anything in return. Chan was one of the reasons your toxic ex broke up with you. Thanks god for Chan.

And when you thought you’d found a friend for years, you two had to have drunken sex. You two had to ruin everything by having hangover sex in the morning. You both had to destroy your friendship by agreeing to be “friends with benefits”. And you had to cut your life into pieces by falling in love with him.

“You feel so good, baby”, he moaned into your skin, “the best fuckin’ feeling in the world”.

You whimpered, shivering under his touch, and seeing nothing but the sky and stars instead of the white ceiling. You were drunk on him, his scent being your oxygen. And when he kissed you, his lips slowly devouring yours, you could swear, you were brought into Heaven.

How could have you given him so much power over you? How could you let yourself fall in love with someone so normal? So normal, that he didn’t fall in love with everyone who gave him the slightest bit of affection?

You slowly strolled to the kitchen, as the sleep washed away the moment you started thinking too much. You managed to get rid of sleepless, teary nights when your ex called it quits, but recently falling asleep seemed harder than it used to be. All because of Chan.

“Maybe I’m some sort of masochist”, you told your therapist once, “as I keep doing back to the same scenario”.

“It is completely the same this time?”

“Not really. Like, yeah, he’s not romantically available, cause he still loves his ex-girlfriend, but he’s different from other guys”.

“Did he tell you he was still in love with his ex?”, you didn’t answer her question. “Or is it you, who’s projecting her fears and anxiety onto a potential partner?”

That shit? Was deep. True. You were indeed projecting. But hey, how could anyone blame you, when relationship rollercoasters were the only thing you’d known?

A great way to escape responsibility for your actions, right?

Sipping tea from the cup, you wondered what he was doing now. Did he go home? Or did he, in (your brain’s twisted) reality, texted his ex and drove to her house, to confess his undying love for her? And then to make love to her just like he did to you, several hours ago? And, if he was so in love with her, wasn’t the thing you two had a kind of an illicit affair? A way of cheating on her?

“Jeez, just shut the fuck up”, you murmured, plopping onto the couch and turning on the TV.

“Maybe I am projecting, but, deep inside, I know the truth. He still loves her, and I’m just a rebound”.

“Elaborate, please. Even though you sound very confident, I’d love to hear your reasoning”.

Nothing coherent came from you that time. Probably because you had nothing to say, just “I trust my gut” — girl, what the actual fuck? Definitely an answer you therapist expected from you; she knew you too well, found out the easy way when you resisted therapy and her implications.

“The right answer is also somewhere in your gut. You just choose to block these thoughts, because if you indulge into them, you’ll have to actually leave the set scenario. But, as we’ve discussed it, isn’t it something you want to do?”.

My god, lady. Couldn’t she just be your inner voice instead of the annoying conspiracy theorist living in your head for free?

TV was boring. You turned to your laptop on the coffee table; to look for another way to distract yourself.

You didn’t plan to watch one of Chan’s latest interviews. You really didn’t. It just happened.

“And what’s your latest album about?”

“A love that slipped away. The one that got away, I’d put it like that”. Any more proof he still loved that girl, huh, Ms. Therapist-Know-It-All?

You slammed your laptop’s lid. “Shit, shit, shit”, you whined right after, checking if the screen wasn’t damaged. Making decisions based on emotions was your thing, truly, but the laptop has been fixed too many times already for you not to treat it gentler that your feelings.

Maybe, you thought, turning on the TV again and lying down on the couch, maybe he’s just too nice to say anything. To break this thing off. “Maybe he pities me, that’s why. He knows what kind of guys I dated, maybe that’s why he continues to keep this going?”

“Projecting again”.

You were too tired to fight with your therapist’s voice. Yeah, you were. But didn’t he himself said, that he had written music about her? And, having heard his songs, you only now realized how much he missed her. If you hadn’t been so pathetic in your desire to be loved by someone, you wouldn’t have fallen for him a month after you two started this shit.

“Why am I the only pathetic one? Isn’t he like that too?”

Shit, he is. A broken-hearted boy, looking for love he had lost in the best friend, who was stupid enough to think he would actually reciprocate her feelings. He made you suffer so much, catching you crying twice, while being in his bed — and never, ever, questioning himself? Never doubting his decision to keep your relationship living?

“Maybe he’s just fucking stupid, that’s all”, you muttered, starring into the screen, a “Friends” episode you’d seen million times before running on. Probably now, after his literal confession on the Internet, his ex would come back to him. And you’d be free from this cage, maybe your wings would grow out once again. Maybe the grass would be greener, and the sun would shine brighter.

But didn’t that mean he’s be the one to break up with you, leaving you with a broken heart because of him, once again? He was never truly yours to lose, so why not to be the first one to end it? You’d dodge a bullet, for sure.

Unlocking your phone, reluctantly looking at the text you’d typed. Wasn’t it better to talk in person? Or to call, at the very least?

“When trying to be nice to everyone else, try to remember: would they be as good and understanding, as you’re to them?”

Chan would be, you thought. He’d sit you on the couch, have an honest conversation, hold you if you cried, and accept every curse thrown at him. He’d understand.

No, wait, back to the possible final frame. Would he be actually understanding towards a girl who fell in love with her friend, who never promised her anything? Or would he just pity her? You didn’t need his pity, you didn’t want his fucking compassion. He would never understand the way you were feeling, the way you…

Fuck him. Fuck him, and his sorrowful gaze, and his hoarse morning voice; fuck him, and his soft hands, and his stupid laugh; fuck him, and him fastening your shirts, and him teaching you how to dance. Fuck him.

One click. The message had been sent. Hopefully, he’d read it and be relieved you had decided to call it quits first. You felt relieved, for sure. Like a weight off your shoulders.

If it was such a relief, why were sobbing into the cushion, hugging your cat? Why did it hurt so bad?

[scarlett-vixen]

Lovesick

Hi :) I had a severe anxiety attack today and wrote this to cope with it✨ I cried the entire time I was writing it so please excuse any spelling errors. This is incredibly self indulgent so apologies to anyone who actually reads this.

Asmo w/gn!reader (pet names used: darling, my love)

Tw: self deprecating thoughts, mentions of bad break up but nothing toxic or abusive, still having feeling towards ex.

The day had been less than gentle on you, a handful of rude demons, realizing you were short on cash and thinking about the things you left behind were all responsible for your current state of mind.

You did your best to hold it together, not wanting more unwanted attention. You thought that the worst of it was over, but you were very wrong.

While digging through your closet back at the House of Lamentation you knocked over a small box from a shelf above you, the contents laying strewn all around your feet, you quickly bent down to pick them up.

Upon further inspection you realized what this box was and why it had been shoved up high and out of sight. Surrounding you were dozens of little trinkets, polaroid pictures and a few little notes with tiny hearts on them.

This was the box containing the last few things you had of your ex.

You scoffed at first, wondering why you didn’t just throw it all away, but then you felt something tug at your heart. You remembered what each little trinket meant at one point, when you had received them and how much love they once held. You didn’t need to open the letters, knowing very well they were love notes written to you by your once head over heels ex. The photos were your undoing though.

Looking at the polaroids and seeing the smile on your face, remembering exactly where each was taken, almost being drawn back to the very moment the camera went off, it was a suffocating feeling.

Your heart felt heavy and your eyes began to burn, your mind asked the cruel question of “why can’t things be like they were” and you knew why. But that didn’t stop the pain.

It had been a nasty break up, one that left you torn to shreds and lost, one that you thought would break you for good. But you missed them. You missed the tender moments. You missed the quiet nights alone together. You missed having someone to hold you on the bad days and share your laughter with on the good.

Tears streaked down your face involuntarily and you hated it. You swore you’d never cry over them again, you swore you’d never think about what used to be…but here you were. On the floor of your closet, crying your heart out as you wished to turn back time to when things seemed easier. When you thought you had all the time in the world with the person you loved. With the person who you thought loved you. You knew deep in your heart it wasn’t meant to be, that they were less than the best for you, but right now…after a day like this…you just wanted someone to hold you and make everything feel okay, to make you feel like you weren’t alone.

“Hi my love! I hope you don’t mind me stopping by but I—“ Asmodeus cut himself short, peering into your closet to find you in shambles on the floor. He stood for a moment unsure of how to approach this, unsure of just how upset you were, but then you looked up at him with tear filled eyes and asked something that pierced his own heart.

“Why am I so hard to love?”

The fifth born was on his knees instantly, wrapping you in his embrace as you screamed into his chest. He did his best to soothe you, placing a gentle kiss on the crown of your head as he reached to hold your hand.

“Darling you’re not hard to love believe me!” He cooed softly. “I love you! And my brothers do as well!!”

“Why don’t they love me though?” A wicked question to ask. You didn’t really want an answer but your heart was shattered and you were spiraling into dark territory quickly.

You continued to sob into Asmo’s chest, gripping onto his shirt as if anchoring yourself to the world, broken screams escaping you between sins and gasps of air. Asmodeus was hurt watching you fall apart like this, you were an object of desire to him, someone that could make the avatar of lust fall in love! Yet here you were broken over some stupid human that treated you like shit but still owned a sliver of your heart.

“Because they’re a fucking idiot my love…” His voice unusually stern and cold. You lifted your head enough to see his face, you could tell he was doing his best to keep his composure, a warm smile and soft eyes but something deep inside them seemed vengeful.

“Are you upset with me?” You’re anxiety now kicking in to make you feel powerless in your already vulnerable state.

“Not at all darling, I could never be upset with you over this. I know you love with your entire heart and that you were generous enough to let that asshole be a part of your life, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Asmo pulled you in closer, caressing your face slightly so he could wipe away tears.

“Listen to me, you are a wonderful and very lovable human being. You do every thing with your entire heart, mind and spirit. I know it hurts now, I know you want things back, but you can’t go back. You will find love one day… with someone who looks at you and sees hearts around your face, someone who gets butterflies every time you speak to them, someone who can’t wait to come home and be with you and thinks about you every minute of every day. You will find someone who loves you for you.” You did your best to fight back more tears and tried to find your voice.

“I know…. I just really wanted that person to be them…” Your voice high pitched and wavering with each word.

“I know you did my love, but believe me,” Asmo placed a soft kiss on your forehead before pulling you back into his chest. “You’ll find someone better.”

[yuujism]

a curse like you (ryōmen sukuna x reader)

REQUEST:  Hello! I really love ur sukuna fics and i was wondering if i can request a yuuji/sukuna x fem reader where mc is a curse that sukuna knew from many years ago?? Can be fluff, smut or angst. Up to you 😁 thank you so much!! 🤗

| PAIRINGS:  ryomen sukuna x fem!reader

| WARNINGS: little suggestive but nothing bad, grammar errors

| WORD COUNT: 1,653

A/N: i focused this more on sukuna idk  if that’s ok with you !! if not you can send me a message or reqeust and tell me what did you expect so i can change it if i can😭!! anyway i like yearning and ex lovers to lovers prompts so uhh yea 😳 might even write this better with yuuji being more involved and more things happening lmfaosh !! i hope you enjoy!!  ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ

Sukuna was bored out of his mind.

These situations were becoming more recurrent now that the brat that called himself his vessel started becoming stronger and getting the hang of the use of cursed energy.

He could hear everything that happened during the fight: the swearing, the sound of flesh splitting open, blood splashing and some motivational speech every now and then.

This was all a routine for the King of Curses now.

When he felt the light in his flesh for the first time in thousands of years, he swore he would never feel something like that again. It wasn’t anything that deemed itself meaningful, but after centuries of not having contact with anything at all, that moment felt like pure ectasis. He didn’t really count with having to spend most of the time inside of a brat after that.

It was all boring now. Boring, boring, boring. 

“Sorcerers come pretty green now, don’t they?” 

Oh? 

He lifted his head way too quickly, almost giving himself whiplash even if it was impossible. 

That voice. Sukuna knew that voice well. Very well if he said so himself. 

This was the voice that would call him a King in a mocking tone, as if it was calling him the King of idiots instead of the King of Curses. The same voice that refused to let out the sound of his name, too proud and stuck up but whenever they were alone, feeling each other, it would slip out every now and then. A voice that would let out the sweetest pleads and moans whenever he would let his hands travel around that body. And it became the last thing he heard before he was cut into pieces and retained by sorcerers for decades, sinking into the darkness. 

And now, the owner of the voice, who he thought was dead, was standing there, in front of his vessel, with the biggest smirk on her face.

Y/N. The proclaimed queen of curses.

And Sukuna’s... ex.

Sukuna felt Itadori freeze in place, looking directly at you with fear filling his body. The curse couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. Even after thousands of years, your power was way too intimidating and immaculate Sorcerers of the old age would even avoid saying Y/N’s name in fear of summoning her, knowing damn well she wouldn’t hesitate to kill them for making bad use of her title. 

They could feel it. They knew you weren’t just a cursed spirit. You could talk and appeared out of nowhere without even making your presence known. You were probably at the same level as Sukuna. Or Sukuna was at the same level as you.

He really thought you were killed after he was captured, only remembering your revengeful words towards the sorcerers who killed your lover. After that, and for obvious reasons, he never heard of you. Not even in this new era where sorcerers spawned one after the other, never mentioning your name or any hint that lead to your survival. So to see you in front of him, safe and sound and impactful as ever, Sukuna felt relief.

Y/N’s eyes landed on Yuji’s restless ones, as if she was staring at his soul. Which, basically, she did. Her gaze passed all the way through his barrier and soul, finally reaching what she was looking for: Sukuna’s own soul and eyes.

“Damn, King, is that you?” in a blink of an eye, you were right before Itadori’s face, too quick for him to even react and even too scared. “Shit, you’re pretty fucked now, huh? All trapped inside a bag of human flesh.”

Before the girl with the hammer could strike your body after snapping out of her trance, you limited yourself to press a finger in the sorcerer’s forehead, smiling almost sweetly before sending her body flying back with extreme force against the furthest wall of the space, knocking her out. 

“K-Kugisa- Hngh!” Itadori’s words were interrupted by a hand wrapping around his neck, slightly lifting him from the ground as he struggled to move, too weak from the constant fighting with all the cursed spirits that came in a flood. 

“Now, now,” Your voice was too calm, almost tired, getting closer to Yuuji’s face “Why don’t you switch with the oh-so-mighty King of curses? Too scared to come out, huh, King?” 

Your tone ticked Sukuna in more than one way. You were still the same annoying bitch as before. 

If you wanna live you better switch with me, you damn brat.

“Like hell I would switch with you! You’re gonna kill us!”

“Oh, so you can talk with him within yourself?” You let out an amused snort, your grip getting tighter. “Ridiculous!”

Foolish human, she will kill you. Switch with me.

Even if his vessel dying didn’t mean anything to Sukuna, he knew he would never get the chance to meet you again, probably for another thousand years, and these sorcerers were too invested in vanishing him from the face of the earth. 

When Yuuji was about pass out, eyes half closing and his windpipe being pressed roughly, you noticed the way his skin started developing black marks in his face and along his body. You smiled widely when the small scars under the sorcerer’s eyes opened to reveal a red colour looking straight at you, the whole features of this guy in front of you changing to reveal what you were looking forward too.

Sukuna’s hand wrapped around your wrist, claws digging into your flesh as you both stared at each other with a mix of emotions: hatred, anger, amusement. And something more.

“Move.”

You dropped him, backing up a bit as he fixed the hoodie his vessel was wearing, glaring at the queen of curses. You didn’t change at all. If Sukuna had to be honest, you were as hot tempered and attractive as before. He could perfectly remember the way your body reacted whenever he touched the spots that drove you crazy A sly smirk appeared on his face as he noticed the same movement of fingers when you were restless, and he knew it was because of him.

“Nervous, Y/N?” Sukuna chuckled, walking to you to circle around your frame, looking up and down your body. “You know I don’t bite, baby. Unless you ask me to, that is.”

You turned around to look at him behind you, incredulous.

“Hah?” Your head fell back, letting out a louder than usual laugh. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, King. I’m just worried I’ll easily step on you while you’re in this vessel of yours.” Your hand started glowing with your cursed energy, raising an eyebrow at the way his indifferent expression didn’t flinch. “And even more now since you get dominated so easily.”

Once again, something in Sukuna ticked. If there was something he hated more than being looked down upon, it’d be the fact of not being in control of any situation. He never once admitted it, but your comments really got to him. He wanted to be praised and adored by you, queen who would never adore anyone but herself. This just made him even more infatuated by you. Perhaps even after all this time, he could make you say his name in a broken voice.

“You see, you shouldn’t be talking to me like that.” Your smile went away when a hand reached one of your cheeks, caressing it with such care you almost gagged. However, you couldn’t help the way your heart started beating faster. “Or do you think I don’t remember the way I made you submit to me?”

This time, it was you who twitched with anger. Sukuna’s hand grabbed your chin, his eyes falling on those delicious lips that committed the most sinful of acts and spat out the dirtiest of words. He was getting excited already, the fire within him starting to awaken after a long time.

When his face started getting closer to yours, you spat on him, the liquid landing on his cheek and laughing at his dumbfounded reaction after such action.

“A half-assed curse like you shouldn’t be talking to ME like that.” You snarled back, your arm swinging to attack the man in front of you. You almost chanted victory when your fist perfectly landed on the side of his face, making his head to turn to the side.

But when Sukuna turned to look back at you still with your fist against him, you gulped. There was no reaction, no injury that showed he was at least a little faced by the sudden attack.

This was it.

“Well, fuck.” You almost laughed again, expecting the worst to come when his eyes flashed with something dark, grabbing you by both sides of your head. All that time surviving for nothing. Keeping yourself hidden from every single sorcerer that walked the earth and now you were going to get killed by your ex-lover.

But instead of receiving the coup de grâce, Sukuna’s lips smashed against yours in a hungry manner, groaning against your mouth as your hands flew to scratch his arms in surprise, eyes open wide before the movement of his lips and strong hand in the back of your neck made you close them, not being able to fight back your own desires.

Sukuna missed this. Honestly, he missed any kind of physical touch but the fact it was with you again, made him realise it would always be you.

He was as calm as the silence surrounding you now, only the sounds of your heavy breathing filling your flushed ears. You were burning up, face red and glassy eyes. Sukuna smiled before slightly pulling your hair, head slightly falling back and taking advantage of this to place the softest of kisses in your neck. You let out a rather pathetic moan and he deeply chuckled.

“And a curse like you should know who is in charge here.”