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knightyoomyoui · 7 hours

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[SMUT COMMISSION] TWICE Jeongyeon x Male Reader - "Just The Way You Are"

Word Count: 15,169 Tags: virgin sex, BODY WORSHIP AND POSITIVITY, dominant and submissive, roleplay, honeymoon, rough sex, vanilla sex, angst, fluff, smut etc. WARNING: contains smut, R+18, mature and sexual content, curse words

Here's my very first commissioned fic featuring our lovely angel Yoo Jeongyeon of TWICE requested to me by @devittobushi, a huge thank you once again for giving me the opportunity to write a commission for you! This has one objective in mind, and that is show lots of love and appreciation for Jeongyeon's current appearance through YN who will stand as Jeongyeon's best man in this story , so for those bitter body shamers of her... yall ain't allowed here with us who will still support her all the way along, unless yall wanna change. In addition, this marks my LONGEST one-shot work EVER, surpassing my Dahyun x Male Reader oneshot "Everlasting Love" from TWICE: Book Of One-Shots x Reader with 13,056 word count. Enjoy reading and I hope I did well on my first commission fic!

START

It was 9:29 PM in the evening. You are a veterinarian who is operating the only open and available pet clinic through a street in Seoul. Tonight,you are entertaining your last client who happens to visit your place to seek some assistance regarding his pet dog who is a chihuahua having some stomach issues.

“How is he, doctor?” The owner named Mr. Park asked nervously after you finished checking-up his dog, putting down your stethoscope.

“She is stable now. Nothing need to be worried about, sir.” You calmly said. “It wasn’t that life-risky, but it could’ve went worse if you didn’t happen to rescue her on time.”

“Yeah, good luck that it was my day off today that’s why I got to stay home and be with my Blossom for today.” The owner explained how was he able to atleast send her dog to the clinic. “Anyways, how is the result doc?”

"So, like I said, it was that much worse, but this isn’t a joke either. This has to be treated immediately,” you said as you felt sympathy for Blossom. “May I ask you something? Do you happen to notice something unusual about your dog that made her be like this? ”

He shook his head after quite a while of posing himself and thinking deeply. “No, Doc, I don’t remember at all. She was just fine to me, as from what I can see about her, how she moves from the last few days, but unlike earlier... she just started moaning and barking deeply enough to make me panic and scared for her.”

“Hmmm okay.” You nodded, but your theory wasn’t satisfied yet. “Did she occur to inspect something from outside your place?”

“None. My dog is too meek and quiet. She wasn’t that kind of pet that is so active enough to be a pain in the ass.” He replied. “Why, was there something wrong about it?”

“What about his eating habits, still nothing?”

You remained silent as you watched Blossom sleeping while free from pain. “She eats a lot. I mean literally SO MUCH that she exceeds the average amount of dog foods she had to consume everyday.”

“How much she ate in a day?”

“Four? Sometimes it gets higher than that.”

“Jesus, now it makes sense.” You cursed under your breath. “Oh you hungry softball, you better chill a little bit.”

You patted her belly and caressed her head before you returned your focus at her owner.

“Blossom has stomach issues, Mr. Park. It may have not been for their overexposure to waste and mess but instead for her overpassing the limit on how should a dog in a breed like her should regularly eat.” You revealed to him the specific details of your findings.

“She may have eating delicious and fitting dog food for her body but that doesn’t mean she can just take it all as much as she wants.” You continued. “Blossom’s overeating made the symptoms to form and turn into gastroenthritis.”

“I really thought at first she is pregnant.” He gasped.

“No, sir. Her belly bloated because of too much intake of food, and the undigested inside her stomach causing it to pile up and not letting the blood and the oxygen flow around their body. Their digestive system might got disturbed the more this keeps going on. It might also get infected with bacterias from the waste of all those she took and could make her gastric worsen.”

“And now that she’s here, that should mean it got prevented, right?”

“You have to less worry for her, I made her comfortably rest because I couldn’t imagine how painful it is for her to hold it in.” You said, glancing at Blossom’s sleeping state. He huffed in relief at the good news.

“I just have one advice for you, monitor and control what she eats next time. It might lessen the risk other having stomach issues, okay?”

“Got it. Thank you very much, doctor.” He nodded and bowed down in respect for you. “I’m really glad that there’s a place here already where I can go and prevent travelling far away just to search for a pet clinic.”

“You’re welcome, sir.” You humbly responded.

“Actually, lucky for you I was about to start packing up until you showed up. Talking about perfect timing.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Yeah, it was really fortunate of me to have something like this located nearby at my place, and it is the only pet clinic too.”

Those words effectively motivated him, and you preached of them because he felt like he had a bright purpose that had to be done in a place where something like this unique of a service, especially for the residents who own pets at home to go through once there was a sudden emergency.

“Anyways, I’ll just gonna pick up the papers to seal this deal up. Please wait for a while.” You gently said as you left the owner have some alone time with his beloved pet.

You returned back from your office carrying the clipped papers containing infos about Blossom’s condition, consent from the owner that the patient must stay here for continous check up and lastly the bills of the medication he has to pay for.

He signed all of them and ended their brief meeting with a mutual agreement. He lavished you again with lots of gratitude before he bids goodbye to his let and left the place, leaving you alone again in your own personal space.

“Cmon, Blossom. Let's get you somewhere safe and comfy,” you said as you carefully carried the chihuahua and placed her in one of the vacant cages filled with blankets.

After you successfully didn’t disturb her peaceful rest, you decided to divert your attention now to prepare yourself for going home. You switched the placard from "Come in, we’re OPEN" to "Sorry, we are CLOSED" so that no more clients would appear and beg to make another request at the very last second.

While putting back all the things to their necessary spots, your vision garnered attention by the appearance of a black van stopping from your client. It became more familiar when a woman stepped out and bid farewell to her fellow staff.

She turned around and started walking towards the door. Sporting furrowed brows and a confused smile, you had to witness her figure becoming more visible as she opened the door and removed her bag to be placed on one of the seats.

There she was, your girlfriend, standing in front of you. One of the idols and members of the worldwide popular K-Pop girl group TWICE is Yoo Jeongyeon herself.

“Good evening, my YN! ”She slowly walked at you, and you were startled when she immediately hugged you while in her baggy coat. She buries her head on your shoulder, and you watched her submerge herself into your contact.

“Hey, my Jeongie.” You rubbed her back. “You look really tired. You should’ve gone home already and gotten a rest rather than coming here, especially since you’re doing dance practices for your group’s comeback. Save some more energy. ”You reprimanded here with pure concern audible in your voice, as you mentioned how busy and working hard for their new single More and More.

“Ehh, why do you sound like you don’t want me to be here.” she sulked. “Well that’s why I came here for, you’re my battery YN.” Her voice was muffled, but you can already guess that one of your girlfriend’s usual behavior is to either tease you or she gets easily sulk and sad at whatever that has something to do within her actions that wasn’t entirely right makes her disturbed.

“No, ofcourse I love to see you too and I’m glad you’re okay. I just hope you could’ve thought of yourself for now because you needed it. I just care about you, Jeongyeon. You know that because that’s how I love you so much.” You caressed her long blonde hair, feeling her silky length sliding between your fingers as you pressed the side of your head against her.

“Sweet as always, heh.” Jeongyeon smiled and wiggled her face more at the broadness of your shoulder and seethed in your fragrant scent. “But you said it anyways that what’s important for you is my own sake and what should I do about it. Well, I decided to come here and see you because I can’t be alone there at the house while waiting for you. I can’t rest at ease without having you on my side, you know that.” Your clingy and soft girlfriend spoke about her defense.

“Do you really miss me that much? We just saw each other earlier in the morning.” You chuckled.

“That wasn’t enough, okay? We haven’t been able to spend some time together because of how busy we’ve been. You can’t blame me for needing you.” She reminded you why she was this eager tonight to have your affection. You smiled, as you appreciated how you felt so important for her life right now.

“I love you, Jeongyeon.” The only words you can reply at your loss of other words to tell. You hugged her tightly and kissed her temple.

“Love you more, my YN.” She giggled kissed you in the cheek.

“You good now?”

“Mmhhmm.”

“Alright, we can continue this at home sp lemme fix these up and we’re all good to go.” You said, breaking your embrace with her.

“Let me help you-”

“Nope, you stay here missy and rest. I can handle this.” You know how much of a clean freak your girlfriend is and you appreciate her consideration to help you, but like you said, her own sake is what that matters the most for you.

She must be really exhausted. You can feel how her heartbeat and her breathing were all racing. And if you say that, you mean that at all because obviously you and anybody should not underestimate how hard it is to be a K-Pop idol, and you have always alluded Jeongyeon for carrying such a heavy career.

Although before she was able to reach the seat, she paused and asked you again. “Uhh YN-nie where are the boys?”

“At the back, sleeping.” You pointed with your thumb.

“Owkieee” She went first to head through the direction to your office. You returned all the things back to their respective locations before you followed her and watched her from the doorframe.

Jeongyeon has cautiously opened the cage and pulled the tray to expose her two boys, which are technically her two pet dogs named Nanan and Peanut, both quietly sleeping, along with the rest of the pets here slated to be under your supervision and care while they are receiving treatment.

She has entrusted it to you to take care of them since her other pet, a cat named Bomb, is already with her parents. She was supposed to take them to her sister Seungyeon, who usually guards them, but sadly, as an actress, she is currently busy filming her upcoming TV show. Her other sister, Seoyeon, couldn’t do the same since she’s mostly focused on officework.

Fortunately, she has another special person in mind who has this quality that he shares with hers and finds it a huge green flag for her ideal man that she can trust for her pets. That’s one of the ways you were able to win her heart one day.

Unbeknownst to her, as you continue to watch your loving girlfriend act like a mother to her two kids, it makes your mind travel back to that one unforgettable memory that serves as the beginning of how you and her ended up to what you two are now currently in your relationship status as a couple.

FLASHBACK

1 YEAR AGO

You were busy treating one of your patients when the chime rang, signaling that the door had been opened by somebody. Your head turned to the open pathway as it stole your attention.

Leaving your medication station, you left to see your new client.

Stepping out of the doorframe, you stopped as you saw that the client turned out to be a woman. She was wearing a mask with an outfit composed of a mint-green t-shirt with leggings and some clean-looking rubber shoes. Her dog was in her arms.

“Good morning, maam. Are you gonna set an appointment?” You greeted the lady.

“Good morning too, doc. Ahh yes, please.” She nodded and slowly rocked her pet dog in her arms.

“How can I help you?”

“My dog is sick. He’s burning in fever and I don’t have anyone else to take care of her. I’m a busy woman these days.” Her voice was fully of softness and worry as she looks down at her poor dog.

“Wait a second, please. I’ll just gonna return my patient back to her cage.” You said before you made an instant action regarding her concern.

After doing what you said, you returned to the woman and instructed her. “Follow me, please.”

You and the lady ended up at the medication station to conduct a brief check-up on her dog. After removing the thermometer, you checked to see the temperature, and the result got you worried for the dog too.

“104 degrees Fahrenheit. That’s high. She does have a fever,” you said, placing the back of your hand against its body. “She’s very hot at the moment; we have to give her medicine immediately to decrease the heat in her body.”

The woman nodded, and she just let you do your own thing as part of your expertise as a veterinarian. You injected something into the dog, and its speedy breathing somehow calmed down.

“This should do. It’ll get her to take it again after 7 hours.” You informed the lady.

“Thank you so much, doc.” She bowed in gratitude.

“Okay, follow me so that you can log off and we can process the papers.”

You and her went to your desk next. She was sitting in front of you at the guest seat. “May I clarify something? Are you perhaps alone right now in your property?”

“Yes, but actually I somehow stay sometimes on my other houses than my own dorm, my sisters and my parents.” She answered. You muttered to yourself that this lady is very rich.

“Are your sister and your parents aren’t available to manage her… oh wait, what’s your pet name?”

“Peanut.”

“Cute. I see why you came up with that name.” You joked as you remembered her color, and you immediately understood the point of the origin. She also chuckled at how guilty she was.

“Okay so why was there nobody to atlesst assist Peanut for the meantime? Are all of them unavailable?”

“Yes, doc. My sister is busy also at her work and my parents… well they also do have business on their own but mostly my mom is already guarding my two other pets. I just don’t want to bring more burden at them so I decided to take Peanut here.” She explained.

“Good idea. I can assure you that Peanut will be back on her good condition again.” You said confidently. Her cheeks widened, indicating that she must be smiling behind the mask at your positive words.

“Can I get your name, maam?”

“Y-Yoo Jeongyeon.”

You were about to land the ballpoint of your pen onto the chart when your brows furrowed as it clicked on your sense that hearing that name hit you a familiarity.

“Come again?”

“I know you heard me, doc. You must be recognizing me now.” She giggled shyly.

Your mouth agaped and let out an ‘ooh’. “What a pleasant surprise. This has to be the first time I get to face a famous celebrity visiting my clinic.” You laughed. “You’re Jeongyeon of TWICE, am i correct?”

“Yes.”

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“This won’t do help anymore anyways.” She removes her mask. Her full visual is now visible to you, and wow she must be also the most beautiful client you have ever encountered so far in your time here.

The hand that you’re presenting at her for a handshake flinched as soon as you saw her face in full display. Jeongyeon accepted your hand, and your body shivered at her warm touch passed on you.

“Pleasure to meet you too, doc. I could tell this might be your first time… or you’re a fan?”

“Ahh… sorry for this but I’’ll go with the first one.” You cautiously said on her, fearing that she might get offended at your explaination after. “Not actually to consider myself a fan, I do have listened to some of your songs and it’s pretty good but I’m just not that invested much at K-Pop” you said in an apologetic tone.

“No, it’s fine doctor. I’m actually glad that I can atleast be able to have a conversation with somebody by just being simply as myself and not this famous image that I’ve built for myself.” She said.

“You’re right, and if that’s what makes you comfortable, then I would be willing to give you that, Ms. Yoo.”

You and Jeongyeon proceeded to finalize the necessary informations before you made it clear to her that Peanut must stay here for an estimated 3 days since you still have an available slot left for pets to remain at your workplace for stricter guidance and medication.

Jeongyeon agreed on that and appreciated your service again before she bids your farewell. Once she left, you breathed out deeply, astounded that you had just interacted with an idol and, at the same time, had such an attractive lady like Jeongyeon.

The next day, Jeongyeon went to visit again at an earlier time compared to yesterday to gain an update on Peanut, and fortunately, you brought some good news. Although Prsnut is still sick, you informed her that she is now stable and that her temperature has improved.

After getting to look at Peanut, who is resting, Jeongyeon decided to spare her breaktime from her work by engaging in some conversation with you, away from the honorifics, and rather as two people genuinely getting acquainted with each other.

They explore topics like Jeongyeon sharing her interest on opening a pet clinic too if she wasn't an idol because she likes animals too, particulary dogs and cats, you being not that much of a K-Pop fan, and some other common and difference between each other.

That’s where she learned as the mood shifted when you brought up about the fact that he's unsure if his clinic will remain here for long when Jeongyeon expressed her interest to come back here again because you told Jeongyeon that his rent exceeded due and he already got a warning from the landlord. He wanted to pay but he is struggling to attain the required money, now that it gotten higher than the previous amount of rent.

You also added that you are currently trying to search for other vacant places where you can move your clinic to escape the heavy rent.

Jeongyeon was saddened by it and hoped that things would go well for him. Little did you know, though, that when she returned again for the last day to pick up Peanut, she actually took note of it and surprised you with a reward for helping her.

“Uhm n-no Miss Yoo thank you so much for this but… I can’t accept this. This is too much, I’m just doing my work.” You respectfully refused her offer.

“No, you deserve it, that’s why, and I can see that you are a gooand easygoing with. We can be friends if you’ll even like that more.” Jeongyeon grinned and shrugged. Her invitation to welcome you to a much more explorable and closer connection with her has shocked you to the core.

You must be one of the luckiest people in the world because, despite being a stranger, you had no idea that, as you crossed paths with a huge name like Jeongyeon, you didn’t expect at all that you'd be able to make friends with her. All you knew at first was that this whole thing was just going to be a one-off experience.

“That’s why I’m doing this. I can respect your refusal, but you know I would like it better if you’ll give it more time to think and… accept this.” She smiled and handed you a card. “This is my number, contact me when you make up your mind.”

She just left you speechless as she exits your clinic. You gulped and let out a gasp as you view Jeongyeon’s business card in your possession. Remembering her advice, you did contemplated about the offer for the entirety of the night. The next day, a one call away was all it took for Jeongyeon to get the go signal.

You and Jeongyeon visited the place, and it did match your liking. What she did after overwhelmed you when she said that she'd be the one to buy it for you, and all of the embarrassment and humbleness overflow at Jeongyeon’s initiative to help you.

But you have no choice but to accept; after all, this is already such a wonderful free treat coming from a kind-hearted woman like Jeongyeon. You accepted it, and Jeongyeon made the payment. Now she has also assisted you to relocate with the help of some movers and establish this place your official new clinic.

Because of this wholesome exchange that you and Jeongyeon made possible, this became the gateway to an opportunity when, as days went on, their bond grew until they started to feel something more for each other. That’s when Jeongyeon realized that there was another reason why she was so open to getting closer to you: she finds you interesting.

Then one day, being a true man, you were the one who submitted and initiated the first move by confessing what you feel for her despite anxious and fear. It was all washed away when Jeongyeon shockingly accepted, marking the beginning of their relationship as a couple. BACK TO THE PRESENT

You took Jeongyeon home right away after closing the clinic. Reaching your own safe haven together, you act through your words that you will help your exhausted girlfriend relax by giving her a proper massage before joining her on the bed for a deep slumber.

A week later, they have already reached the D-day for their comeback release titled More and More. You attended their first scheduled music show performance to promote their new title track and the album, belonging to the ones who were committed to appear at the studio very early in the morning since that’s the scheduled time for the idols to tape their performance before the live voting hours later.

As much as you wanted to accompany your girl at the moment, you knew that she’s getting assisted right now by her staff. You were feeling so enthusiastic and motivated to do everything for Jeongyeon today, and what came after surely didn’t have yourself to blame for why you’re being like this.

Exactly as they achieved their first win based on the combination of both live voting and the other criteria's result, it also coincided as your first anniversary together, making this day with her even more special.

Rushing through the backstage after one of the managers helped you to pass through the guards, you met Jeongyeon and greeted her with a tight hug and a proud kiss for her additional achievement today.

“Congratulations, Jeong. Oppa’s so proud of you, darling.” You said very close to her ear after kissing her in the temple and stroking her hair from behind. Jeongyeon’s breathed deepened and you felt her body trembled at her chuckle.

“Thank you, YN. Another thing for us to celebrate, isn’t it?”

“Yeah we will. So better wrap up your schedule for today because we are going to spend this day really well.” You said, staring at her with an excited grin. “Have you already told your managers about it?”

“Yeah I did. They allowed me. However, since they’re gonna move the rest of what we’re supposed to do today onto the next day, our schedule will be heavier.” Jeongyeon frowned at the consequences.

“O-oh no… wait, are you sure you’re still up-”

“Don’t worry about me, and us oppa. The girls are fine with it. They know how important this day is for us. Right, girls?” Jeongyeon acknowledged her sense of having others listening to your conversation with her at the moment and she was right. As she turned her head around, you and her caught the girls peeking at the door with their busted reactions.

They all gestured with thumbs ups and nods, even sending their congratulations for your first anniversary with Jeongyeon. You thanked them before facing your girl back.

“Time is running, let’s get going shall we?”

Jeongyeon hurriedly went to their dressing room and packed her things before she joined you and left the studio along with the bodyguards to shield you both against the fans who might trap you two in a stampede.

As you escorted Jeongyeon to the car, you thanked the bodyguards before entering too and awakening the engines to drive off through your first destination.

From afternoon to evening, you and her went to Gwangjang Market since her request was that she would love to have a food trip with all the street food they could get. You understood immediately her love for street food, so you granted it, taking her there and letting yourself get dragged along to wherever food stalls could attract her.

In the middle of a cold evening, you and Jeongyeon strolled along the uphills, where the scenery of the city was almost visible. Standing on one of the balconies, you savored this peaceful moment with the most precious woman in your life with some random talks about topics that can amuse both of you until it went to the most important aspect of why you brought her here.

You handed a box at Jeongyeon. When she opened it, her eyes lighted at the sparkling object laid neatly in front of her. It was a necklace that Nayeon recommended for you to buy when she shared that Jeongyeon was staring the most at this one while they were shopping. Even though she can buy it easily, she decided not to because their purpose on that time was to buy things that they needed the most in their dorm.

“YN… this is beautiful. I- I really appreciate this, you really searched for the place just to get this for me?” Jeongyeon’s expression went mellow for you.

“You know I will do everything just to make you happy, Jeongyeon.”

Jeongyeon hugged you and kissed you in the cheek. “Thank you so much, babe. I’ll wear this often.”

“Oh you better be. It suits you.”

“But wait, you think you’re the only one who has a gift prepared?” She smirked and slowly placed the box of the necklace on her bag.

“And what do you have for me too, missy?” You returned the same gesture as her.

“But first, let me drive this time. I want to show you it by myself.”

You had no issues with her request, and you just let her sit in the driver's seat while you’re the one on the passenger list this time. Jeongyeon parked the car in one of the parking lots in a hotel building, and you just kept yourself silent, keeping your questions as to why the two of you went here.

Reaching the final storey as they exit the elevator, you were perplexed as to why there’s only one room left. Jeongyeon pulled out the keys and unlocked the door. The interior of the unexpectedly huge and spacious room made your jaw almost drop to the floor.

“J-jeongyeon, w-what are we doing in here? Is this y-yours?” You said as you roam your eyes around the surrounding of the room.

“Correction: ours… but technically, it’s mainly for you, YN.” Jeongyeon placed her bag on the couch and gripped both of your arms. “Because this whole place was effectively bought and signed in for ownership under the name of… YN LN.”

“W-what?” Your eyes widened at Jeongyeon’s reveal. “You s-serious? Does that mean-”

“Mmmhhmm… this is all yours, mister.” Jeongyeon hummed and nodded. “You don’t have to travel farther from our house to your clinic because is this just few roads away from there. No more hassle for you.”

“This is… wow. This is awesome. Thank you a lot, truly. You’re making me feel like I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

“Well you must be. Not only you own such a luxurious place like this but it will be never compared to that one rare and outstanding thing that you possess the most, and that is my heart. And I’m glad that you’re handling it with care, my love.”

“I just can’t broke it. I can’t seem to hurt you, Jeong.” You tucked her hair behind her ear. You and Jeongyeon shared a passionate kiss again before Jeongyeon pushed you to speak something in addition.

“Since we now live together here… that means we can do whatever we want here tonight, right?” Jeongyeon smirked as her voice slowly gets lower along with her touch from your shoulder slipping down to your chest.

“J-jeong…”

“And this place is yours, then that means you’re the one in-charge…” She starts to remove the buttons of your polo.

“Jeong, are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes, I trust you, YN.” was her only response. She has fully spread your clothing open, revealing your pecs and toned abs. Her breath got stuck in her throat for a while before she licked her lips. “It will be my first time too with you, so be gentle for me oppa, please.”

Confirming that she is indeed prepared to initiate this kind of activity with you, you have decided to join along with her plan. “I promise you that, baby. Oppa’s going to take care of you tonight.”

You pulled her head towards you to land another kiss, but it was still passionate until it got mixed up by some little intensity and heat built up from both parties. Reaching for the zipper on the back of her black dress, you pulled it down and slowly removed it from her body while your lips were still entangled with hers.

Dropping the dress on the floor, she is now only sporting a black laced bra on top, her warm, milky skin now in contact with yours. You released from the kiss, allowing her gasp from your hands wandered around her back and arm, along with some slight squeezes there.

Kneeling down on the floor, you unhooked the only button present that holds her waistband before pulling down her skirt onto her ankles. Looking up to her, you saw the distinct shy blush formed in her cheeks as she stared at your face on an equal level with her panty-covered pussy.

Helping her take off the skirt from her ankles as she lifts both her feet, your hands then ran through the length of her astonishingly sculpted long legs, enough to qualify for a model’s quality. The movement ended exactly at her bubbly ass, giving it a light squeeze and inserting your finger inside the hem of her pants, moving it again back and forth.

Jeongyeon yelped at your fingernails raking her sensitive ass. Standing back up to your feet, you cupped her cheeks and kissed her again shortly before you grabbed her arms and led her to join you on the bed. Sitting first on the mattress, you silently instructed her to stack herself next on your lap.

Facing you with her sexy body, Jeongyeon starts to grab both sides of your head to kiss you deeply and nuzzle onto your neck, peppering it with some sucking and licking, wanting to show you that she owns you. You did the same thing for her to return the favor, inhaling her pleasant smell and dragging your lips across the surface of her neck and her dazzling collarbones before you kissed each inch of her shoulders.

Your fingers tugged against the strap of her bra; it slid down to the cups until it located the clip on the front. Unhooking it, you set off the bra from the sides, revealing her perky B-cup-sized breasts for you, ready to be indulged by her admirer.

Not wasting any more time, you quickly sucked her pinkish nipples, giving them equal treatment as you gnawed her tits left to right. Jeongyeon mewled as she savors the feeling of your tongue coating her nipples with saliva. To add more satisfying feeling, you joined her hands in action by groping both of her milkers while you patiently devour them.

As you buried your face in her wonderful cleavage, your hands then went at her back and ass to massage them until the wetness forming under Jeongyeon’s pants encouraged her to start grinding at your crotch.

Jeongyeon pushes you to the bed, laying you down on the mattress. Having her on top of you, she immediately had her sight next to your pants, still distractingly covering her prize.

Unbuckling your belt and tugging your pants away, she left you with your boxers remaining.

The view of the outline of your hardened length made Jeongyeon dazed in lust and desire of having you to herself. To satisfy her craving, she finally unveiled your veiny thick cock standing at 8 inches proud for her. She licked her lips deliciously at its delectable size.

“Fuck, you’re so big, baby. Woah, I don’t know if this will fit inside of me.” She ran her finger nails on the underside of your shaft. You cursed out at how sensitive your cock is at the ticklish feeling of what Jeongyeon is doing.

She just cackled devilishly as she noticed pre-cum starting to drip out from your crotch. “Oh, no. We can’t just let it waste like that. Lemme clean it up for you, baby.” She starts to lift your cock with her slender hands and licked the puddle of pre-cum on your skin.

Her eyes then marveled at the humongeous size of your cock around her fist, rattling it like she’s handling a toy.

“Mmmhh… so fucking big, baby. I always wanted to taste something like this. Now I’d love to definitely keep you by my side more.” She starts to lick your head, cleaning the remaining dripping pre-cum on its slit. Your breaths became heavy at her pervy actions.

“J-jeong.. ah shit, that feels so good.”

“Do you love this? Your hot girlfriend sucking off your long, thick cock?” She starts to gently pump onto your meat.

“Yeahhh… ahmm” You nodded as you swipe some hair blocking her eyes.

“I’m going to empty your balls, baby.” Jeongyeon then began to take you inside her mouth, her mouth slurping around your girth.

You are floating into Cloud 9 until her loud gag snapped you back into reality, and as you looked down, Jeongyeon has now almost swallowing your entire length, a mission success still for an impressive deepthroat.

“It fits both into my mouth and hands, can’t wait to feel our bodies mashed together.” She then starts to fasten her blowjob, spreading the mixture of her spit and your pre cum along the skin of your hardened cock.

Jeongyeon went under to also share her attention on your full heavy balls. She slobbered on each of your testicles, arising her anticipating to have your load get emptied for her. As she returned to give you more deep sucks and tight pumps, you felt that familiar tightening of your stomach and crotch.

“Fuck my mouth, baby. I know you’re getting close.” Jeongyeon mentioned it as soon as she felt your cock twitch inside her mouth. It urged you to hold her head as a handle and start moving your hips upwards as you fuck her face, her throat getting penetrated by your girth.

As she furiously tapped your thighs, you stopped moving and let your cock slip out of her mouth to give her a break, breathing deeply and tears forming in her eyes. However, she was still enjoying it. She even slapped your meat on her face, making herself look really needy.

She returned your cock back to her mouth, giving you a few more suckers before you alerted her that you were about to reach your end. “I’m cumming, Jeong! ”

Jeongyeon felt her mouth then filled with thick and creamy white substance or simply, your cum saved up for months of not ejaculating. As you take your cock out, Jeongyeon had some few cum dripping out from the side of her lips before she licked it off with her fingers after she swallowed your cum empty in her mouth.

“Damn, Jeongyeon you are so daring, aren’t you?”

“Only for you, YN. I just can’t resist how hot my boyfriend is.” She said and licked your still hard cock clean.

“Same thoughts we’re sharing, then.” You kissed her on the cheek before pulling her closer towards you and switch position, now she’s the one laying on the bed.

“My turn, baby.” You removed her panties down from her legs before you spreaded it, taking your first look at her glistening pussy ready to be taken and had its virginity invaded with the cock owned by man it adores.

You buried your face deep through her slit, tracing it with the tip of your tongue. Jeongyeon sighed loudly at the pleasure it provides. You flicked her clit repeatedly, tensing her lower parts more.

“Mmhhmmm… f-fuck, baby yeah that’s it, make that talented mouth of yours show how can it to me~” Jeongyeon bit her lips and gasped at the feeling of your sweet suckle on the fat borders of her pussy. Your tongue then went back to work inside her walls, wiggling it and bumping it on each sides.

“Oh god i’m cumming, haaahh I’m cumming on that handsome face YN!”

Jeongyeon lived up to her words, squirting her love juices straight at your face, while you try to catch some of the fluids to drink by your mouth. Sweet and tangy for your impression, it still paid off to witness your girlfriend now lost in the sensation of sex, riding her orgasm off with eyes shut off.

You kneeled between her legs and dragged the tip of your cock again to her slit. “Are you ready babe?”

Jeongyeon nodded whilst feeling a bit nervous. “P-please, YN be gentle…”

“I will, baby. Just say if you need to adjust okay? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, but don’t get me wrong YN. I really love to do this with you. I want this to finally happen.”

“Me too, Jeong. Now we all have the time in the world to fulfill our desires.” You said before giving her one last nod as you start pushing your length slowly inside her pussy. Jeongyeon shuts her eyes off and groans a bit at the pain.

“Babe, you okay?” You asked her with worry.

“Yeah, just give me a bit of time to adjust.” You nodded and waited for her signal to proceed. She did, and you started to move once again. Her groans and yelps trying to take your size more transformed into moans and whimpers of pleasure as you performed your fifth and more gentle thrusts at her.

“Goddamn, Jeongyeon you’re so tight!” You grunted and gritted your teeth at how perfectly it strokes your cock as it compressed your girth.

“And you’re so fucking big inside of me, baby. You’re almost touching my womb, I can feel it poking me!” She said as she spreaded her legs even wider.

You held her ankles as you tried to speed up your jams, sending Jeongyeon delighted at your attempted aggressiveness while in a missionary position. Letting her legs wrap around your body, your hands are then planted on her bouncing tits.

“Ugh ugh ugh aghmm… yeahhh hnnghh~” Jeongyeon lets out melodies of delight out of her mouth at the heavenly pleasure of your cock banging her tight pussy.

Your strokes went slow as you tried to tease her next, making her whimpers louder. As you felt that curling feeling again, you laid your body on top of Jeongyeon and kissed her once again, your tongues dancing along to the rhythm of your movements.

You were now fucking her at such a rough pace, your balls slapping the bottom of her ass, sending her rocking crazily on the bed. Her breasts are now squished within your pecs.

“O-ohhh fuck yes there! You’re hitting the spot oh so deep, baby…”

“Jeongyeon, shit… I’m about to release it!”

“Do it outside! I can’t get pregnant yet!”

You take out your cock. As an alternative way to make your cock feel like its still ravaging her pussy, you lift up her legs and pressed them together. Inserting your cock between her juicy thighs, you continued your pace and your length sliding through the surface of her cunt made Jeongyeon feel the satisfying effect of it too.

“Shit, I’m cumming again Jeong!”

“Give it to me!”

On one last push, you blow your second load, splattering around her torso, mostly at her breasts, lips, and stomach. You gave off a few strokes in her thighs before you let go, laying down beside her on the bed.

Jeongyeon scooped your cum on her body as much as she could catch and swallowed it once again with pure will. She hummed in delight at its delicious salty taste. You and she stared at each other, exchanging both amazed and hilarious chuckles.

“I can’t believe we just did that.”

“Yeah, me too. You were really serious about getting this moment happen.” Jeongyeon laughed at your joke.

“Thank you for being my first time, YN.”

“I’m much grateful as you are, Jeong. To have it with such an amazing woman like you, especially, the only one that my heart prefers.”

You kissed her again before Jeongyeon starts to sit up. “I have to clean myself. You really did made a mess out of me, huh.” She teased you as she points at your cum dripping on her tits.

“That’s what you to do me for being so hot.”

Jeongyeon rolled her eyes and playfully pushed you to the side. She offers her hand at you. “Come on, join me to the bathroom and get clean up.”

Well for that initiative, you have no intention to decline, especially when its an another opportunity to appreciate your bodies further. Stepping into the shower, you and Jeongyeon shared some more affectionate touches under the running water flowing down to your bodies, the lust and love you have devoted to your lives have became uncontrollable to resist.

During the bath, you and Jeongyeon helped yourselves clean up, rubbing your bodies with some sneaky squeezes at the intimate parts until it became sexual again.

You cupped and massaged Jeongyeon’s breasts from behind with soapy hands while Jeongyeon knelt on your knees and gave you another round of blowjob before ending the shower and getting dressed back up. You and Jeongyeon then slept together on the bed to end your special day.

That was the last time you saw Jeongyeon at her full and sincere energy. Another week has passed since you suddenly noticed that something was wrong with Jeongyeon after you observed that she often complains about her neck and back aching a lot, even at some minimal movements.

Being a concerned boyfriend, you tried to investigate her workplace through her co-members, and you learned from them that they also noticed Jeongyeon enduring that pain. What’s surprising was that it was already happening since their preparation for More and More, and it just got more serious now that they were preparing for their next comeback.

Later that night, while she was using her phone, you decided to break the silence by confronting her about it. “Jeong. Can I ask you something? ”

“What is it?” She sounded dull.

“Is your neck giving you a hard time?”

Jeongyeon’s fingers stopped from scrolling through her phone as she got surprised at your question regarding her condition.

“H-how can you say so?”

“Jeong, I’m not blind, and I mean it when I often tell you day by day that I care for you.” You answered. “How would you think I wouldn’t noticed about it? I look at you, checking up on you time to time and then I often caught you wincing like you’re in pain. It bothered me and I decided to ask from your members if-”

Your words were cut off when you heard Jeongyeon sob. You rushed beside her and hold her hands. “Jeongyeon, why?”

“I-It hurts, YN…” she said between her sniffs, placing her face on your shoulder. It broke your heart to hear her poor voice clearly in pain.

“Why were you not telling us about it? The girls even said you were holding it in since your preparations for More and More. Was that true?”

“Y-yes…”

“Good grief, that long?” You were astounded at her revelation. “Why did you keep it as a secret? You could’ve told us about it.”

“Because I don’t want to miss the promotions, okay! ”Jeongyeon’s voice rose, making you flinch. “I don’t want to disappoint the fans, and I didn’t want to stop because I don’t want to put all my efforts and hard work I poured into this all to waste.” Her cries begin to get louder.

You remained silent as you let her express the thoughts disturbing her. “These days, I feel like I haven’t been receiving much recognition for what I’ve been doing just to entertain ONCEs, to the point that I don’t even know if some are just too hard to please or if there’s really something wrong with me. But to include that possibility, then that means I have to do something about it in case it’s like that too.

So I practiced hard and cooperated with the staff and my members to the best I could, because I want to avoid myself getting seen as someone who's just not enough for the group.” You helped Jeongyeon wipe her tears off her eyes. “And now, it frustrates me that my stupid neck won’t want to get along with what I am trying to achieve, but I’m trying not to let it get in my way, even if it’s hurting me really bad every day.”

You sighed and rubbed Jeongyeon’s shoulder to comfort the weeping woman. “Jeong, if that’s what your perception is about what the other fans hold their opinion about you, then they are not real fans as what they claim themselves to be. You can’t force yourself to be the best because you’re already at your best at what you do. And do you know one of the indications why I am saying that? And that is because you have us who love and support you, along with those real fans that you entertain with your charms and talent.

So don’t get brought on with their negative comments or impressions about you, because it doesn’t matter as long as you are not stepping on other person’s reputation. You are doing a great job, Jeongyeon. Please, don’t stress yourself now okay?”

Jeongyeon continued to cry again after hearing your words. You resumed your comfort before voicing out your request.

“We have to get you look by the doctors tomorrow, okay?”

Sadly, it was found out from the results of the x-ray that Jeongyeon is suffering from a herniated disc on the back of her neck. The company then learned about it and advised Jeongyeon to stop attending practices for now, as one of the priorities of JYP Entertainment is their idol’s health.

They were unsure at first if Jeongyeon would make it until the promotions for ICSM, but unfortunately, it was confirmed that Jeongyeon wouldn't be able to participate when they went for a check-up again with the psychologists on Jeongyeon, and this time, it showed that she is much more likely suffering from an anxiety disorder due to the effect of her herniated disc.

Since her hiatus requires her to stay at home for now to began her recovery, you then saw how Jeongyeon was badly dealing about it as she became even more down everyday not being able to join the girls on the promotions.

As usual, you have to do your role as a boyfriend by promising that you'll be there on her side always to help and console Jeongyeon.

And you were exerting everything to provide what Jeongyeon urgently needs right now. Thankfully, she is easy to instruct because she listens responsibly, like when it comes to taking her medications on time and trying to find some ways to distract herself while resting through some of her favorite hobbies at home: playing Legos with her dogs, cooking, and others.

However, occasionally the one thing she can’t avoid is her guilt and worry about her group being incomplete, and the fans missing her are killing her inside. She still holds herself responsible for the unfortunate circumstances that her group has to overcome because of her situation.

It was evident from you that there’s something that disturbs her inside. Her mood swiftly changes when she feels like the flow of the good mood you have been sharing with her has run out. It became one of your challenges for her that you must keep the ball rolling whenever you’re spending time with Jeongyeon.

Just like what she does for you, she was also following the doctor's advice that she must not tire herself too much from other heavy activities, restricting her more from going outdoors and performing some of her heavy interests like doing workouts, mountain climbing, etc.

The unavailability of those had made Jeongyeon change plans during the course of her break; thus, she decided to find a solution to relieve her stress through some freak cleaning and frequent eating to satisfy and recharge her energy.

With the combination of medications and the amount of food she daily intakes, you can observe the difference that her anxiety and injury have brought to your girlfriend. Jeongyeon began to gain weight while her mood remained unbothered.

On the first week of January, Jeongyeon's mental health slightly improved thanks to your proposal to celebrate Christmas and New Year with you and her family.

She then made a request and the company tested if she is able to go back now on stage by granting her to participate in promoting with the members, and since they have an upcoming schedule to perform their recent comeback in an award show that will have no crowd in attendance due to pandemic protocols, that opened an opportunity for Jeongyeon to join her members at least once.

Hugely accepting the offer, the members were emotionally happy for Jeongyeon, brought by longing and their support for the recovering woman.

“Unnie, I missed seeing you around!” Chaeyoung said as she ran through Jeongyeon and hugged her quick.

“You look like you’re getting better, unnie. How are you doing these days?” Dahyun asked her.

“Doing well. Thanks to YN.” Jeongyeon smiled shyly.

“Ahh, you’re so lucky that you have such a caring boyfriend like oppa.” Sana said as she pouted while letting out cute noises.

Jeongyeon then noticed that Tzuyu was just smiling at watching her co-members reconciling with her. She probably guessed that Tzuyu is embarassed to check up on her personally while being surrounded with her unnies, as she knew her unnies usually teases their savage maknae to be such a cute softie baby instead.

“Tzuyu-yah.” Jeongyeon called her, snapping her senses back as she startled.

“Won’t you say hi to unnie? I’m sad, my Tzutzu doesn’t want to have me-”

Tzuyu’s eyes largened and her expression changed into fear. “Ehh!” She shook her head and dashed at Jeongyeon, not giving a damn anymore to her playful unnies but in her surprise, the girls just clapped and awwed at them. Tzuyu got slightly shy that her thoughts were wrong and the girls were waiting for her instead to make a move.

“Sorry, unnie. I just don’t know what to say, but it’s really great to see you again with us.” Tzuyu said. Jeongyeon understood her immediately. She knows that Tzuyu wasn’t that vocal on advices and sharing sympathy when in comes on consoling someone. She rather speaks louder using her affectionate actions.

“I missed you too, Tzuyu.” And the youngest member delighted at her words.

“We really didn’t expect that you’re gonna do this, Jeong.” Nayeon said, referring to the offer. “We’ve heard that you’re keeping progress on your health and we’re not forcing you to do this, okay?”

“I know, but I had this urge in me that I wanted to give it a try. I don’t know what it is, but I couldn’t stand seeing us incomplete and not the same OT9 that the fans adore much. I don’t want them to experience again what happened when Mina took a break before.” Jeongyeon said and looked at Mina who weakly smiled and nodded understandably at her.

“So don’t mind me with this, what matters is that we can give the fans what they want before we release another album again.” Jeongyeon motivated her members.

“You’re so brave, unnie. Thank you for doing the same thing what I always wanted for ONCEs.” Mina said to Jeongyeon, remembering the time she wanted to make a surprise appearance to see ONCEs in personal while being on a hiatus also during Feel special era.

“I guess it makes us the same too, huh.” Jeongyeon smirked and Mina grinned while nodding.

“Alright, we’ll be there for you, unnie. As a leader, I must do my responsibility to guide my members for safety, and if you have any instances that you feel nervous, just hold my hand during the show okay? I’ll stand by your side like I’ll always do.” Jihyo stared at Jeongyeon who started to blink her eyes rapidly and bend her head away.

“Agh Park Jihyo even you? Why are you guys being like this, I don’t want to cry!” Jeongyeon whined. The girls laughed and they locked their beloved sister in a group hug. Meanwhile, you just returned from claiming your orders at the delivery guy waiting on the outside of the building.

You stopped at the door of the dance practice room and smiled as you watch the wholesome sight of the group, not wanting to interrupt their moment.

The event has occured, and Jeongyeon’s surprise appearance definitely shocked the fandom to the core. Her return became even better when they also won an award too. While she is watching their performance, her curiousity led her to peek at the comments and they were all positive coming from the heartfelt fans.

Although, the ocean of positivity has met its shore when Jeongyeon landed next to the Naver site, she saw some articles about her return that wasn’t actually favorable from some netizens.

They have noticed that Jeongyeon's endurance and stamina decreased compared for before, reasoning it out due to her sudden change of figure, making Jeongyeon hurt and offended by some rude comments about them.

She shut her device right away and revisit what happened to her during the event. She knows also to herself that she’s not 100% but she gave her best because what’s important to her is to entertain the fans again like she loves to do.

She tried to forget it and acted like nothing happened when you returned to the living room to spend the night away resting with her.

She then accepted to return back from hiatus by joining her members promote Alcohol-Free. It only lasted short though when it was spotted that there are claims that she’s hurting herself from the way how she’s exhausting heavily while performing, giving the netizens a mixed reaction again based from her condition.

Her secret didn’t last long also when you caught her viewing the sites related to what happened earlier. You snatched the tablet and turned it off to spare Jeongyeon from what she have seen.

“This is why I told you to stay away from engaging in social media apps too long, Jeong.” You said to her. “It won’t do no good to yourself.”

“I didn’t even meant to see them, but I knew already that I’ll be receiving complains like I used to.” Jeongyeon said while she’s laying sideways, away from you.

“Jeong, just don’t get brought up by their useless pathetic comments. They just can’t appreciate people’s hardwork, that’s why.”

“That’s it. You said it yourself. How can they appreciate what I’m doing if maybe… my hardwork wasn’t enough yet.” Jeongyeon said before you noticed that she slept after while you are advicing her not to think like that.

You sighed and joined her to the bed, cuddling her into comfort.

She wasn’t lying when she said those words to you last time. It drove her to grind for improving herself on practicing their Japanese track Perfect World to prove herself, only to cost her getting affected too much by the comments she saw that not only lifted up her motivation to excel but caused her emotional state to be depressed, halting the progress rather.

Her condition got worse, with the doctors and the company putting her back for a short hiatus again, which caused her to miss the dance practices for The Feels. It was like something inside had snapped. Her behavior and mood also changed drastically for you; your kind words of assistance weren't working enough anymore to convince her that she’s going to be okay again.

Through the first two weeks of her hiatus, you can see from Jeongyeon that she’s acting differently whenever you try to interact with her. While yours were gentle and kind, hers was rather the contrast of how you treat her.

She would just answer you with a blank face, minimal words, and a and a robotic and bland tone that would lose your enthusiasm to talk with her.

Sometimes you would just catch her staring into the unknown, and as much as you wanted to come up to her, you knew she'd silently request that you leave her alone.

This is not the Yoo Jeongyeon you knew and loved. It’s not right anymore, you thought to yourself. You know you have to do something to end this because this ain’t something she is incapable to do, both for her personal well-being and for the people around her who're impacted by it.

This urge has pushed you to confront Jeongyeon regarding her unusual antics, unintentionally leading both into an altercation.

Not because of what you said, but from what you have just heard from her when surprisingly, she was the one who initiated to break the silence during your dinner with her.

“By the way, I’m packing my things tomorrow, YN.” Jeongyeon said, taking one of her last scoops on her food.

“Packing your t-things?” You stopped moving your spoon through the plate. “Why, where you going?”

“Back to my parent’s house.” She blandly replied.

“Oh. We better sleep right after this then. Let me escort you tom-”

“Not needed.” She simply rejected. Your brows started to meet.

“Jeong, you know it’s not safe for you to go outside on your own. You’re still not well, the fans and media can just-”

“It’s not your problem anymore.” Jeongyeon’s hands gripped tightly on the table. Your stare went deeper at your girlfriend.

“Not my concern? Jeong, I’m your boyfriend.” You huffed. “Come on, what exactly is wrong with you? W-why these days… I feel like you’re trying hard to… push me away. Was there a problem? Don’t you need my assistance anymore?” You made a direct approach. It has became impatient and insufferable already for you to hold these thoughts that’s bothering you everyday.

“Or was it still the same?” You sighed heavily and scratched your forehead.

“It’s not.” Jeongyeon muttered. You were barely able to catch what she said.

“Say again?”

To your astonishment, Jeongyeon looked up and gave you the same intense stare, but her aura was different from yours. Gazing into her eyes, you had the impression that you were witnessing her most vulnerable state of being tonight as she attempted to disfigure herself with this act of hostility and coldness.

“I want to break up with you.”

Your body froze, looking at her in fright, heart and mind rambling and constricting at the same time just absorbing that sentence you thought you will never going to hear from her forever.

“W-what…?”

“We’re d-done.” She said to you and twitched her head away to avoid staring at you. “You don’t have to look up for me, I’m giving you freedom now to do whatever you want to do.”

She stands up and was about to enter her bedroom when you stood up and hit the table hard. “You can’t be serious, Jeong! Just like that?”

Jeongyeon stopped on her steps, her back facing you. “After everything I’ve done? Jeong, I’m not stupid. This isn’t the best of you, we both damn know you never want to say that.”

“I mean it, YN! Was I not obvious enough why I don’t need you now? What else you want me for you to understand!” She yelled as she turned around to look at you. You just stood there and stared at her bursting out her frustation at you.

For the first time, your eyes dwelled with tears made by the anguish in your chest after receiving those words of despise coming from someone you love the most out of anyone that you never know would express herself that she will end up hating you.

“Jeong…” You called her breathily. She was dumbstrucked seeing you emotional because of what she did. “W-what happened to us?”

She remained silent observing your stability shatter into pieces. “I’m not gonna be fooled by your acts, Jeong. You’re just saying that because you’re tired… but you don’t meant with all your heart because I know right there, I’m the one you will always love to be with.”

You slowly walked across her and Jeongyeon lowered her head to avoid gazing at your broken state closer. “You can’t just leave me with “why?”. How about me, huh? I do get tired, trying to fix you, but did you hear me wanting to break up with you?”

You raised your chin and made her look at you. “No. I didn’t stopped, I NEVER stopped, because I can’t abandon you. I can’t bear seeing you helpless because of the same thing. I love you, Jeongyeon and that… is what I mean a lot.

Don’t let me go, please. That’s all I’m asking for.” You cried as you held her hands and hold it tight. “Just tell me what’s the problem, and I’ll carry it too. We have to solve this together, I can’t let it cost you. You’re the only one I have left.”

Jeongyeon couldn’t control her own tears as she got defeated easily by your pleads of sorrow, demonstrating your unwavering and loyalty of your unbreakable love for her.

She felt pity immediately thinking about you losing her, and knowing that she has became very important aspect of your life, it’s cruel for her to apply a worse circumstance on other people than her own suffering.

Jeongyeon raised your hands together and gave yours a deep kiss. She laid her head on your chest and sobbed heavily in your arms. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to hurt you too.”

You hugged her closer to you and keep yourselves soothed in your warmth creating by this burning affection you share for one another. “It’s fine. I know everything must be so hard for you, but please don’t ever consider removing me or others who are willing to stay by your side and guide you to recovery.”

“It’s not that I don’t want others who care for me, it’s just that… I’m just scared, that I might just hurt and displease you because of how I’ve changed.” Jeongyeon began to explain while you wipe your tears in her face.

“That made me began to hate myself these days. I feel like I’ve losing my worth into people lives and rather becoming a burden. And I’ve tried to distance myself from you because I thought… I might just making you suffer too much to take care of me, and i feel like I’m unattractive to be paired with you. You deserve better, so I made a plan to slowly make you quit.”

She said before she broke down again brought by guilt and regret. You continued to ease her emotions off, patting her head and caressing her back.

“Jeongyeon… everything that you said, that’s not happening at all.” You gave a feedback. “You may have confessed that people might probably dislike you for how you look now compared from the previous that they’ve grown accustomed to recognize you… but I’m not.

Jeongyeon, you don’t know the level of fear I’ve got when I heard you breaking up with me. Let’s say, one of those is because you think you’re not pretty as before in my eyes anymore that concerned you. But no…”

You traced her visuals with your fingertips, Jeongyeon felt chills as she stared at your eyes encapsulating primal desire as she felt her face being admired by the man she adore.

“How about I do something… to prove I’m not letting go easy, and to make you know how you will always be the epitome of my ideal woman in my eyes.”

You catched the back of her head and pushed her into yours, colliding your lips together. You walked and guided her through the bedroom, shutting the door with your feet before you continued engaging into a wild kiss with Jeongyeon.

You removed your T-shirt and pants, sparing your boxers as the only piece of garment left worn. Jeongyeon sought that as a signal to get rid of her own clothing too, but you hold her hands to prevent her from doing.

“Don’t. All you have to do is watch and submit. Because tonight… is all about you, my love.” You kissed her again before rotating the blushing Jeongyeon, facing her through your full body mirror.

“Look at you, such a masterpiece.” You whispered in her ear as Jeongyeon watched you stroking her hair from behind. Your hands went lower, sliding it across the sides of her figure. “Shall I start doing a breakdown of what I observe that makes you understand… how special you are?”

Jeongyeon just nodded, very flushed at your sudden change of demeanor. You may have caught her response, but that wasn’t enough for her. “Cmon, baby. Don’t be shy, use that pretty voice of yours. Make me hear it.”

You whispered to her ear while you wrapped her waists and pushed her closer to you. Jeongyeon whimpered as she felt her ass bump into your boner. “Yes p-please… let me know.”

“Good. Let’s start with your face, babe.” You squished her plump cheeks and gave it both kisses, making Jeongyeon’s blush intensely. “Back from the time I’ve saw you in my clinic, the first thing my mind commented was how exceptionally beautiful you are, Jeongyeon.”

“Sure, there may be other women around there who are also beautiful but… yours is just… unique. And I don’t lie when you’re the one I still wanted even after all this time, because my heart only prefers the beauty you possess.”

Jeongyeon smiled at your endearing compliment. You kissed her on the temple before moving on. Your sight was on her neck, massaging and sniffing on her scent. “These smooth, milky neck and shoulders that you always expose from me. That’s why I love laying my head or burying my face onto your skin, makes it better whenever I miss having your touch on me.”

You peeked to see Jeongyeon shutting her eyes and savoring your touch. “Don’t close your eyes too long, baby. I want you to see everything.” She complied, and then she realized that you’re starting to lift her shirt up, holding the hem.

You smirked as you teasingly slowed down your hands beginning to cover her cups before you planted them suddenly, yelping Jeongyeon. You kneaded her boobs gently through the bra. “So soft. Whenever I catch you changing up and get to see you in your favorite set of lingeries, not gonna lie, it makes you so hot, Jeongyeon… especially today.”

“These nice tits, so flawless and pearly, contrasting to the color of your enticing black bra.” Jeongyeon heard you groan while groping her boobs, turning her on.

“But ofcourse, nothing gets better when I see them uncovered, for my eyes only. .” You sensed the clip on her front and unclicked it, exposing her packed set of breasts laying neatly on top of her ribcage. “Goddamn, they’re so perfect.”

You resumed to knead them again, making sure that you give them equal attention. Jeongyeon starts to gasp and whine as your fingers twists and pull her nipples. “You say your body gets ugly, but it just became better for me Jeong. Look at your tits, they’ve became bigger… perkier… and heavier.” You said while playing at them, jiggling them in your palm.

“Makes me wonder, if I put a baby on you today and make your pregnant, wouldn’t these get even more bigger. And God… getting these huge jugs filled with milk, I’m afraid our baby won’t be getting everything of it, because daddy have to share instead, I may even couldn’t control and won’t spare a drop.” You whispered seductively as your hands circling her tits intensified, now matching it with your crotch humping the outline of her ass.

“Please… fuck YN I’m about to lose it, hurry…” Jeongyeon said as she felt her panties getting soaked now by her juices.

You understood what she meant, your hand went to her bottom. “Oh goodness, you’re really soaked down there. Couldn’t wait to fuck you, huh?”

“Y-yes…”

“But hold it a bit longer, we’re not through yet, baby.” You chuckled devilishly. Jeongyeon whined as you left her crotch and slowly kneeled beside her, your hands went attention now to her tummy that gained some fat due to the effects of her medication.

“You call this ugly but I take it to be cute, instead. I can’t wait to lay my head on these fluffy tummy of yours whenever I’m bored, baby.” You said as you pinched her belly and wiggled it. “Those bodyshamers who will dare to berate you will definitely feel my wrath, Jeong. Nobody can insult you.”

Your fingertips then reached the waistband of her jogging pants. “Ah yes, we’re getting closer to the main event.” Jeongyeon continues to watch you work on her lower part, pulling down her pants. She stepped out from it and there she is, all left with nothing but her matching white panties.

“There’s another thing why I love your body even more, Jeong… is through these.” You ran your hands, inspecting her long legs and giving her thighs some squeeze, eliciting an ‘ahh’ from Jeongyeon. “You have gotten way even thicker this time, Jeongyeon. I think I’ll get addicted burying my face and willingly die onto these meaty, juicy thighs compressing my head.”

“T-that’s harsh. I-I still want to keep you.”

“Course you do, nobody can appreciate you better than I do.” Jeongyeon looked at you and blushed.

She watched you again at the mirror, caressing the length of her legs before you playfully bumped your finger at her core, letting out a lewd sound from her. “Y-YN!”

“And lastly, this.” You repeated it again, making Jeongyeon close her legs for a while before you removed her panties, and Jeongyeon is now fully naked in front of the mirror.

You kneeled again, rubbing your face on her ass and burying it between her crack, sniffing on it. “Y-YN… it’s d-dirty down there!”

“I don’t care, but you still smell so intoxicating, Jeong.” You gave a kiss on each of her cheeks before spanking her.

“Ahh!”

“Do you love me smacking these fruity butt you got, Jeongyeon?”

“Y-yes…”

You slapped it again. “God you’re so perfect. Sculptured and blessed by the gods with a perfect combination of huge tits and firm ass. Thank heavens for making me the luckiest guy in the world, thinking that I can have this all by myself.” You whistled. “And you think I would have the guts to find another woman when I already have mine as the best.”

Jeongyeon’s heart is blooming at your continous praises for her body and beauty, effectively boosting her confidence.

“Spread those legs, baby. Let me see that dripping cunt of yours.” She followed you, and there she showed her pussy tainted with her pre-cum.

You traced it and catched some of her fluid, sending chills again on her body as she felt her folds scratched by your fingertips. Your way of licking her juices off your hand just makes Jeongyeon’s arousal even higher.

You cupped her pussy and inserted two of your fingers inside her, pushing and pulling it to trigger her walls. She started to hold on to you to maintain balance. “Ahhh mhhmm…”

“Say, Jeongyeon. You’re just begging to be fucked now, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes…”

“Louder, say it clear.”

“PLEASE FUCK ME YN, I can’t take it anymore…”

You speed up the face of fingering her cunt. “More. Give me more.”

Jeongyeon bit her lips and gasped at the feeling of her pussy being invaded by your slender fingers. “Ah I-I’m coming…”

“You do? Release it first. Don’t be shy squirting in front of your loving boyfriend.”

With few more rams, Jeongyeon sprayed her juices on the floor and onto your hand and feet. You felt Jeongyeon heaving deeply, but you didn’t let her rest as she suddenly felt your cock grazing her wet pussy, realizing you have stepped out of your boxers already, making both of you now naked on the mirror.

“Do you want me to fill you up so bad and make you a mommy, Jeongyeon?”

“P-please, I don’t care. Just give em all to me.”

You catched her face and lean it closer to you, breaking character. “Control your hormones, babe. You can’t get pregnant yet, still have career to maintain right?” Jeongyeon got embarassed, realizing how horny you have turned her already. You chuckled. “But, I get you. Promise, I’ll give it to you in the future, I’ll give you as much cum as you want in any of your holes but first, I just know where to put it for now.”

You licked her jawline and nibbled at her earlobe before raising one of her leg and point your tip at her. Jeongyeon’s eyes widened before it transformed into arousal and delight that she’s about to get fucked by your enormous cock. “You’re gonna be loved tonight, Jeongyeon. All you have to do is watch me.”

You sink her into your length and Jeongyeon lets out her first moan as you begin to plunge into her slow in a one-legged standing position.

She wrapped her arms around your head and kissed you. Your other hands went on playing her tits as you continued fucking her.

Your pace increased, now creating smacking sounds resonating around the room. Jeongyeon watched herself getting bounced feverishly in your arms. Few deep pumps and she was shocked that you released and drop her to the floor, releasing your cum into her face and her upper chest.

Jeongyeon understood what you have meant, you did have found some alternative technique to atleast not let your cum turned to waste. She scooped some of it and have a taste before you leaned forward and presented your still stiff cock on her.

Jeongyeon didn’t hesitated to put your cock inside her warm mouth, giving your shaft some cleansing with her saliva. She gave you a usual impressive blowjob, she looked at the mirror to see your satisfied expression while patting her head like a good girl, motivating her to perform better.

Jeongyeon lifts your cock and went next to your hanging full balls. She sucked gently on each testicles, nibbling on your foreskin and rolling her tongue at its roundness.

Jeongyeon didn’t hesitate to put your cock inside her warm mouth, giving your shaft some cleansing with her saliva. She gave you your usual impressive blowjob, and she looked in the mirror to see your satisfied expression while patting her head like a good girl, motivating her to perform better.

Jeongyeon lifted your cock and went next to your hanging full balls. She sucked gently on each testicle, nibbling on your foreskin and rolling her tongue at its roundness.

Entering her asshole, you fucked her slow which made Jeongyeon moan and grit her teeth at how big you are inside of her. You also joined her moans and curses because of her tight she is, but the perfect grip that she has around your girth is what effectively makes her ass stroking your cock even more pleasurable.

You started to fuck her faster, her ass id now being pounded against your crotch. Maintaining your hold on her waist, you took a short time to let go one of your hand to give some few smacks on her asscheeks again.

“Do you like me fucking your precious peachy ass, baby?”

“Yes, fuck! You’re about to tear me apart with your big cock, YN!”

“You can take it, right? You must be going crazy right now feeling my cock fill up your tight ass.” You said as you continued to hammer her.

“Ugh yes, you can do whatever you want YN. Your cock is the only one I need fucking me.”

“I bet you do, because look at how compatible our bodies together. You’re so perfect around my cock, and I’ll be using it to please you whenever you want!” “Oh yes! Harder baby, pound me!”

You fucked her faster at full speed, testing your energy and Jeongyeon’s until you reached your climax, firing more seeds inside of her ass. As you released, Jeongyeon watched you smack your creamy dick in her cheeks before she felt that ticklish burst of your cum overflowing her hole.

Reaching for some tissue, you wipe off some of your cum before you pick up Jeongyeon and make her sit on your lap. To make sure she can still get a full view of the sexual interaction that both of you are engaging in, you positioned her as a reverse-seated cowgirl. Lifting her up, you slammed her, then back down on your cock, fucking her again into a nice slow introductory pace.

Jeongyeon just lustfully and gratefully watched you perform your intimacy stored solely for her, kissing her neck, playing with her huge breasts while caressing her tummy.

She was indeed feeling loved and honoured tocherish such an awesome man like you who is returning the same exact amount of how she wants to experience what love is supposed to be.

Her smile went wider and bigger as she has continued to cooperate and join with the flow of your intercourse with her. She is simply enjoying having her time alone with you tonight, appreciating your way of servicing her to overcome and forget her personal problems even for a moment.

On your observation, you sensed Jeongyeon beginning to add some movements of her own as you continue to penetrate her underneath. She was now grinding and rolling her hips to stimulate her walls and stroke your cock in other angles.

Her moans have gotten constant and repeated, lifting your hormones to encourage pleasuring her as much as you can provide for this wonderful woman sharing a bed with you tonight.

“You seemed like you’re liking this now, Jeong. I can feel you moving now on your own.”

“Yeah… fuck mhhmm you’re right. You never fail to get me hooked on with your big cock impaling me, baby. I can feel every inch of you filling me up so good. Don’t stop… ugh hngh~”

“Oh don’t worry, I still got a lot left in me, baby.”

You leaned back and laid on the bed, letting Jeongyeon now ride you on her own. Enjoying the view of Jeongyeon bouncing erratically on your lap, all you had to do is to gasp in amazement at how your girlfriend becomes even more skilled at sex when gets hornier.

“Fuck you’re so big, YN. I would love to have you invade me everyday.” Jeongyeon continues to praise how great your cock makes her feel. She twerked and rolled her hips more, eager to receive your load for her.

“Jeongyeon, I’m about to cum!”

She gets off from your lap and formed like a ball between your legs, she pumped your cock a few times before your seed aimed at her mouth and tongue, taking a taste of your addicting creamy load once again.

As she let go of your cock, she laid beside you to take a minute of rest. You still have enough stamina left. You repositioned Jeongyeon so that she could still be visible in the mirror. You turned her aside and slid underneath her body.

Now in a 69 position, you have an excellent view of her streaming wet pussy and her freshly fucked asshole gaping with your newly unloaded batch.

You gave each peck on the flesh of her vagina’s exterior before flicking and poking her clitoral area to stimulate her on the edge. The more you kept on teasing her, Jeongyeon was matching your game with her hums around your cock and repeated hollow sucks on your mushroom head.

Kneading her thighs and spanking her plump ass one more time, you lifted Jeongyeon a bit to signal her that you'd be moving again. She lay prone on her side, and you went behind her to insert your cock back in her pussy this time.

Fucking her again in a spooning form, Jeongyeon combs your head as she whimpers and refreshingly sighed at your mouth sucking her tits while you press her legs and fuck her pussy from behind. Your other hand was directing her boobs on your face to add more stimulation on her intimate part.

You paused to fuck her pussy when you come up of an idea that interests you. Jeongyeon suddenly felt the warmth of your shaft between her thighs, and just as she discovered, you have now ejaculating yourself between them.

You grabbed her hand and placed it in front of your tip. Moving your hips as your stomach begins to curl up for a familiar climax, you released your sperm with most of it landing onto her palm.

Jeongyeon made a show by staring at you as she licked your sperm through her hand, turning you on at her sexy and sensual gesture. Her mischievous smirk inspired you to get up from your knees and straddle her torso.

Squeezing and fondling her huge tits for a short foreplay, you grabbed your cock and sandwiched it to her succulent bosoms. Performing a titfuck while she’s under you, Jeongyeon tries to catch your head with her tongue to please you further. Thankfully, with your massive length and width, she was able to grab a taste of your irresistible meat.

Now giving a rough pounding on her abused tits, you didn’t give a damn anymore if you’re getting aggressive. You ain’t stupid to catch her needy look looking up at you, challenging you to give everything you have because she’ll fall for it more.

Couple more strokes and you mounted her face by pushing your cock deep in her, depositing your load that flooded her inside.

Jeongyeon swallowed again, ensuring that none would be left wasted as a way of replacement for not being able to have her pussy filled yet with your baby batter that would make her womb fertilized.

As you let Jeongyeon rest again for a while, you went your attention on her hypnotizing tits, sucking and gnawing at them like there’s no tomorrow. Having a glimpse of hee now watching you do your own thing, you sensed that she must be now back on track.

“Can you still keep up, baby? We can stop now if everything’s enough for you.” You said as you gently knead her breast.

“How about you?”

“Well I can still do more. You’re just so attractive tonight, Jeongyeon. How would I say this? Hmmm… oh yeah, I can’t stop me.” You winked at her before Jeongyeon wheezed and laughed.

“Witty.” She rolled her eyes at you and chuckled.

“That makes us even.”

“You’re so good tonight, you know. You make me wanna say more and more, because I’ve been craving to have this again with you.” She said as she patted your face.

“Wait, is that another reference again?” You squinted your eyes at the guilty and sheepish Jeongyeon acting like she didn’t got caught. You pinched her nose. “Ahhh!”

“You dork.”

“It hurts!” She pouted and touched her nose. “Just continue eating my tits, you pervert.”

You wheezed and shook your head as you played again with her breasts until you remembered something. “But seriously, I’m happy that I can make you laugh again.” Your eyes went tender for Jeongyeon as she just watched you become serious.

“This is what I just want to see from you. Being here as my girlfriend while I’m convinced that you’re doing fine. Your smile is one of the things that calms me down and keeps me going through the reality of life. You can’t blame me why its such a big deal for me to lose it, how more if I… lose you completely.” Your tears escaped again from your eyes and Jeongyeon wipes it off.

“I’m really sorry, YN. I became selfish not thinking that you’re struggling as me too. And to involve others with my worries and fears only to get their feelings hurt… especially you. I don’t think I should have a nerve to pity myself for what I’ve done.” Jeongyeon apologized.

You reached for her hand and lock it in your grasp. Laying beside her, you cuddled her and laid her head on your chest where your heart only beats for her. “I don’t care how many times I would be going to make this known for you, I still and will love you in just the way you are, Yoo Jeongyeon.

Your body figure doesn’t matter to me too much because the reason why I love you is because of how kind-hearted you are and I feel like I own you too much since the beginning.” You said to her.

Jeongyeon remembered that she was there for him in ups and down, to provide him that would require saving like for example: his pet clinic before. And now she also realises that you were doing the same for her. You also became the special person who will do anything to stay by her same most of the time, bringing her back to when they first met.

You didn't treated her as Jeongyeon from TWICE but simply as by herself, as a normal human and Korean citizen named Yoo Jeongyeon, like she always wanted to receive from anybody whether they may be part of the fandom or not.

“How fitted a woman’s body wasn’t my qualification to make you my girlfriend. Even if I marry you in the future, it’s not because I’m in love only because of the way you look, but because you fulfilled my dream and I devoted myself to give your soul and existence a meaning to my world.”

Jeongyeon kissed you directly through the lips and hugged you tightly. “I love you so much, YN.” That’s what all it took to show her utmost respect and value for your role.

As you and her go on for another heated kiss, you felt your cock being woken back up by her thighs poking your shaft.

Bumping into her folds, you spreaded it wide again as you inserted it back inside of her, fucking her passionately before you and her both go on into another multiple number of positions, basically them having sex around the house, shooting a gallon more of cum in her mouth and ass until you and her are too spent. You and her then slept together at dawn, with your dry flaccid cock still tucked into her snatch.

Because of that moment you shared with her, Jeongyeon slowly starts to recover from her anxiety, trying to be confident and love herself for her new figure and become not much bothered by the hate comments.

She then goes to hang out more often with her family, members and her boyfriend. It made her successfully return and fully participate for the upcoming comebacks like Talk That Talk, Set Me Free and One Spark while also attending endorsements and doing modeling again to spread body positivity and break Korean beauty standards.

And in April 2024, the media, the K-Pop community, and especially the fanbase of ONCEs across the world were surprised to learn about the announcement that Yoo Jeongyeon made.

You and her officially tied the knot at a chapel in Ulsan, and many acquaintances, friends, and relatives from each other attended to witness the grand wedding. The couple were very honored and grateful for their attendance. The event became the headline of numerous news stories and articles.

Both excused themselves and rented a hotel room to celebrate their marriage in private during the honeymoon trip. There, they fucked each other's brains for hours, granting your sworn words that you’ll be making her a mommy in the future by finally pouring everything you have in store through her fertile womb, which ultimately led to Jeongyeon giving birth and welcoming your first child into the family.

Now that Jeongyeon has accomplished all the dreams that she has shared with you to come true, the idol is proud and fully assured that their love is truly unconditional and that she claims you as the perfect man for her who will always accept, believe, and stand by her no matter what happens that might attempt to bring her down.

THE END

#twice #twice jeongyeon #jeongyeon #yoo jeongyeon #twice jeongyeon x male reader #jeongyeon x male reader #jeongyeon x m reader #twice x m reader #twice oneshots #twice au #twice fanfic #commission #commission fic #kpop oneshots #kpop au #kpop fanfic

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happy74827 · 20 days

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You ever just revisit your old fics (which unfortunately are public to the world) and you want to delete it so bad because it’s just painful to glance at, but at the same time, you know someone out there is emotionally attached to that fic and you just don’t have the heart to rip that away from them.

The true pain of a writer.

#I’m looking at you old unfinished Wattpad books 😪#even some of my first oneshots on here are painful for me #every fanfiction site should have an orphan option like a03 #seeing the old fics are literally so painful #growth is such a wonderful thing #but it also sucks because why couldn’t you be like that BEFOREHAND #I guess I’ll just make it up by writing better #reader #fanfiction #x reader #watch me look at my fics in a few years time and feel the same as I do now #writers woes #writers of tumblr #writing community #ao3 memes #oneshot #fanfic problems

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fioiswriting · 6 months

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Reunion | oneshot

Summary : After the Battle Above the Gods Eye, Daemon returned victorious. Aemond was presumed dead, though his body was never found. Three years later, you've mourned your former husband and are ready to move on. But it seems that some ghosts from your past have come back to haunt you, and that the dead aren't really dead after all...

[Part 2]

Rating : Explicit 18+, MDNI

Pairing : Aemond x Velaryon/Strong!niece!Reader, implied Cregan Stark x Reader (you can interpret them as lovers or not). Reader is Rhaenyra and Harwin’s daughter so I imagined her with dark hair like Jace, Luke and Joffrey but feel free to imagine her as you want of course <3

TW : unprotected sex, breeding kink, mention of characters death, angst, possessiveness, p in v sex, oral m receiving, praising kink, dom/sub undertones, mention of war, AU where the Blacks won the war, Alys Rivers (but no cheating), Reader has a child, grief, light choking, not proofread.

Words count : 7600

Author's notes : Hi everyone !! Sooo I’m posting my first ever fanfic on here, my first x reader and my first fanfic for Aemond. I’m very anxious haha But well, this fanfic is heavily inspired by a RP that has been going on for months with my wonderful gf <3 She writes Aemond so well I swear and now she’s making me fall in love with Cregan too haha oops whatever. Some of Aemond’s lines in this fanfic are hers so of course the credits go to her 💕 Long story short the reader’s backstory is inspired by my OC! The plot doesn't make any sense but whatever

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !!

Enjoy 🖤

I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met The night we met - Lord Huron

The snow had covered the landscape of Winterfell in a thin white layer so similar to ash, and the image tugged at your heart for a moment. Ashes. Fire. War. It was strange, the stillness that had followed the fury of screams and blood, of fire and ash, the constant anguish and pain of loss. It was like a long howl and then sudden silence. Life had resumed its course, the earth and the grass nurtured in red, as if nothing had happened, and that still irritated you sometimes, three years later.

For this peacefulness was a constant reminder of your life before. Before the war, before your own family ripped itself apart from within, before you lost him. There was something bitter in the thought that, in an alternate reality, you would have been happy with him by your side. The night brought its share of sweet dreams, lulled by the embrace of his arms, and you closed your eyes with ease, hoping to see his face again, which was fading day by day, desperately clinging to the details that made him.

It had been the best solution, you knew.

For there was no reality in which he could live as much as you wished for. And you had accepted your duty by straightening your shoulders, silencing your heart, digging your thumbnail into the inside of your wrist. Your stepfather had said he was dead; he had seen Vhaegar fall from the sky, wounded. He had seen the huge dragon crash into the water with all its weight. He had waited, and no silver hair had returned to the surface. He had searched and no body had been found.

So, he had returned, triumphant, with the conclusion that Aemond Targaryen was dead.

The room had swayed around you, but your fingers on the hard, rough wood of the table had kept you grounded. You had nodded, unsure, your ears ringing, your teeth sinking into the flesh of your tongue to hold back the tears that were beading at the edges of your eyes.

You knew it was inevitable, perhaps even fair. But it still hurt. It sill fucking hurt.

Daemon had reassured you by pointing out that you were now released from your marital obligation. A marriage to him that you had hoped for, waited for, dreamed of in your younger years. A marriage you had despised, once forced into, once made captive, a prisoner to be used against your own mother. And then a marriage that you had loved, cherished even, when he had opened up to you, when he had changed, when he had revealed that soft side despite his rough edges. And you loved him, truly. The childhood love, the shy love that had blossomed between laughter muffled behind the curtains, hand-in-hand runs through the Red Keep and reading session hidden under the library table, had been rekindled. Raw, devouring, bruised by war, but more powerful than ever.

Out of the corner of your eye you had caught a glimpse of the comforting gaze of your mother, the Queen, her gentle eyes searching for clues that would betray what you were feeling. It was she who had stroked your hair that evening, her presence welcome and soothing.

During the war, events had made you more uncertain than ever; blood and cheese had broken something in you. Suddenly shaken by the horrific actions of someone you hardly recognised, by the actions of your own family and the father figure who had raised you as his own daughter. You questioned your loyalties more than ever. Of course, you'd been devastated by Luke's death, your beloved little brother, so innocent, so sweet, and the despair you'd felt, the sadness, had gradually turned to anger.

Your desire for revenge had fed on your rage, on your anger.

And in your quest for revenge, you had grabbed the dagger hidden in your bodice when you had kissed him, when you had poisoned him with your lips and your body pressed against his. Perhaps it was cowardice to do it on your wedding night, right after the pitiful ceremony in which you had been forced to exchange your vows of fidelity, the humiliation of the white, blue, red and green cloak around your shoulders. Perhaps it was cowardice to wait for him to surrender to your touch, hard with desire, before plunging the blade straight into his heart.

But you didn't do it, in the end, the humiliation of your failure burning in your cheeks, and you had seen the horrible reality in the icy eye fixed on you: he was expecting it. He knew. He had anticipated you, as usual, one step ahead of you, ahead of your plans. And the humiliation was all the more bitter.

First he had defied you, knowing full well that you couldn't do it, despite your momentary hesitation. Then he had wiped away your tears, the sound of metal echoing off the floor as he captured your lips with his own.

And both you and he had sought to release the accumulated tension in the comfort of your naked bodies, in the rough, demanding thrusts.

You weren't quite sure when your relationship had changed. When he had become more forgiving. When he had trusted you. When he had become gentle. When you had felt him slipping away, subtly, almost imperceptibly. When you had begun to seek comfort in his arms, to seek the warmth of his body, to seek his love on his lips.

You loved him.

So you spent the nights lying awake in fear. Fearing the moment when you would have to make a choice. Fearing the moment when you would have to betray.

Which side would you choose when both armies were coming towards you, carrying the same flags, the same weapons, both calling your name?

Anxiety had spread its roots in the pit of your stomach, crescent moons in the palms of your hands. You felt as if you were losing your mind.

But the choice had been forced upon you without you having to make it. You had accepted it, as your duty demanded, as your loyalty to your family demanded.

Life at Winterfell wasn't so bad, quite the opposite in fact, despite the cold and snow you weren't used to. Cregan Stark was a good man. He had given you time and space to grieve, and had opened the castle gates to you with kindness. You had decided that you could get used to the cold and the snow, to the stone and the rustic wood, so different from the refineries of the capital, but infinitely warmer.

It was your choice, your departure for Winterfell. Dragonstone was still haunted by the ghost of Luke, by the ghosts of Joffrey and little Aegon and Viserys and Rhaenys and all the family members you had lost. King's Landing was haunted, too. By your sweet aunt and her cries of despair, by Aegon's descent into madness, by the humiliations you had so gracefully endured, by the recurring announcements of deaths, by the smell of the innocents’ blood, by the pitiful looks of Alicent, who had seen in you the image of herself a few years earlier, powerless and manipulated.

But above all, it was haunted by him.

The weight of the memories had become unbearable and you needed to leave.

You chose Winterfell, hoping the cold would help you forget. And Jace had come with you, his thumb caressing the back of your hand with affection, always the protective, reassuring big brother he was to you. Probably glad to see his friend again, too. Your friend, to both of you.

But forgetting was something you'd never really been able to do, even less with the last memory he'd left you.

Now, just over three years later, you felt ready to return to King's Landing to visit your parents, to face the demons of your past and to mourn once and for all. It was inexplicable, perhaps a little strange, but you felt the need to go back.

On his first dragon ride, Rhaegar clapped his hands along the way, nestled into your arms in front of you, closing his eyes as the wind ruffled his dark curls. Midnight, your dragon, as pleasant as ever, as easy and gentle as ever, took care to be careful with the two of you on his back.

When you arrived, Rhaenyra hugged you as tightly as she'd ever hugged you, her nose buried in your thick hair, before bending down to take her grandson in her arms.

"I've missed you, sweet girl." she said to you. You smiled and reached for her arm, glancing at your son who'd grabbed one of your mother's long silver curls: "Daemon has missed you too. You know he doesn't show his feelings, but... he missed you."

You smile, your eyes dropping to the floor. You missed them, too, terribly, despite the frequent letters.

"And of course... we’ve missed you too, little one!" Rhaenyra added, catching the child's nose with her thumb and forefinger, causing him to burst into laughter.

It felt good to be back. It was good to have regained some sort of routine in your daily life with your family. It was good to see the walls of the Red Keep return to their original familiarity, chasing away the ghosts you feared you might see again.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Perhaps you should have listened to your stepfather and not stray under any circumstances from the knight who has been following your every step with concern, afraid to lose sight of you.

Five years earlier, it was Sir Erryk's vigilance that you had deceived when you had carelessly followed your eldest uncle into the dangerous streets of the capital.

The streets of King's Landing offered you a freedom you had missed. But now you almost regret sneaking through the crowds to escape the vigilance of the knight who had escorted you. You decide to take a shortcut, the hood of your cloak pulled down over your forehead. It must have been your imagination. You aren’t on the worst side of the city, not like five years ago, and the streets have become safe, much safer now that your parents are in power.

Your footsteps led you to some stone steps, which you climb at full speed, your heart pounding in your chest. Glancing behind you, you disappear like a shadow around the corner of an alley, but the feeling is still there. You feel as if you are being followed.

At the Red Keep you already had the unpleasant feeling of being observed. In the gardens, with your son. Along the ramparts, enjoying the sea breeze on your face.

But you blamed it on your body's automatic response to the anxiety that had built up in all the years you'd spent within the walls of the Keep.

You slow your pace as you spot the dome and towers of the Great Sept at the end of the alley. From there you can easily find your way back to the Red Keep. All you had to do is keep moving, staring ahead, pressing your pace, wrapped in the thick wool of your cloak.

One step after the other. Breathing deeply. Half-moons in your palms.

The Great Sept growing closer give you a strange kind of reassurance.

And then suddenly, one hand closes over your mouth, the other around your waist. Your back bangs painfully against the cold stone wall of the winding alley into which you have been dragged. Fuck. Fuck.

You are too paralysed to struggle, too paralysed to bite the hand of the stranger holding you prisoner between the wall and his own body.

"You obviously learned nothing from my advice, Lady Strong," the icy voice whispers in the hollow of your ear. Your eyes widen.

That voice. It couldn't be.

Lady Strong. Lady Strong. Lady Strong.

It can’t be.

That is your sick mind playing tricks on you again.

"As reckless as ever, hm, aren't you? You could easily get yourself killed."

The stranger releases you and you look up again, tears forming at the corners of your eyes, searching for that icy blue, tinged with lilac, that have read through you so many times before.

It is impossible.

He has died three years before, falling from Vhaegar's back into the deep waters of the lake at Harrenhal.

Is it a ghost? Is it a hallucination?

"You are dead. You were dead," you whisper, more to yourself than to him, still in shock from the feel of his body against yours. You feel the tears that have formed at the corners of your eyes roll down your cheek, and your little fists pound his chest.

You have so much to say to him. So many things to reproach him for.

His hand cups your cheek to turn your head and force you to look at him, his thumb wiping away your tears.

The way he looks at you hasn’t changed; it still makes you shiver. You still feel that your uncle could read through you, that he could discover your deepest secrets. And there is still that hint of desire, too, that gleam in his one seeing eye.

You want to kiss him. You want to slap him.

He clenches his jaw as he pulls you against him, burying your face in his chest, his arms around you. He rests his chin on your head. One of his hands strokes your dark hair as you stifle sobs into the wool of his cloak.

The situation takes you back to your wedding night, when he had comforted you in the same way after you had told him that you couldn't hate him, even if you had tried.

"I know," you hear him whisper, the vocal cords vibrating from his throat against the top of your head.

He is standing there, in front of you. You cling to the fabric of his clothes with all your might, as if you're afraid he'll slip away again.

"How?" you ask, eyes closed, head against him. If he is to be taken from you again, you intend to enjoy every moment in his company.

He clenches again. You step back to look into his eyes, to search his enigmatic gaze for answers, for clues, for signs that would explain how. Why.

He doesn't answer you, but he is filled with desire as he grips your chin between his middle and index fingers, as he captures your lips with his own. You rediscover the possessiveness you've been missing. He pushes you a little harder against the wall behind you, as if to remind you who you belong to. Who you were married to.

A familiar warmth blossoms between your thighs, a warmth you haven't felt for too long. You're trapped, right there, your uncle towering over you, trapped between the wall and his body. His fingers close around your jaw and you kiss him back hungrily, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

You're perfectly aware that the situation is surreal. You're perfectly aware that you're making a mistake, that you shouldn't respond to the kiss of the man who used to be your husband, not when he's technically still your enemy, not when he's technically dead.

But you shut out the voices in your head begging you to stop.

"I still want to hate you, you know," you breathe between his parted lips. He merely mutters hm in reply, trying to shut you up again, his hands wandering under your cape, tracing the ribs of the body he'd missed so much. He reaches for your waist, your hips, which he grabs meanly.

There's no one in the alley around you, but the hood over his head hides his long silver hair anyway.

"Three fucking years." Your lips leave his, a mixture of anger and desire bubbling up from your lower belly. Aemond stares at you, his jaw clenched. He knows you need to unleash your emotions when you don't read an ounce of regret in his gaze. "Three. Fucking. Years. And you've told me nothing. You never sought to -"

"I couldn't," he retorts harshly. He seems to be searching for words to explain something you could not possibly understand, but his gaze does not soften. You know he needs time, you've learned to know him. You've waited three years, what's another moment? But you're tired, and your patience isn't as strong as it used to be. You look away, a mocking laugh escaping your lips as you repeat his justification. "You couldn't."

"And risk your mother executing me?" He forces you to look at him again, and you feel the lump form in your throat. You know you are perhaps being unfair, but you were alone for those three years while you mourned him, so alone, and in a way, you want to make him pay.

"You were dead to me, qybor." Uncle. You feel him twitch at the mention of your family tie, at the nickname he used to love to hear on your tongue. "I had to live with the idea that you would never come back."

The tears that had dried on your cheeks threaten to flow again, pooling at the corners of your eyes. Aemond sighs.

"I thought I was dead too," he whispers. You can feel the tension in every one of his muscles. There's a moment of hesitation, a silence that hovers between you. You have so many questions, but you don't know where to begin. Not a sound leaves your lips.

"She tended to my wounds," he adds, and you frown in confusion. "Alys."

Alys. You try to wriggle out of his grip, but he keeps you pinned to the wall. Alys, you remember the rumours whispered in your ear by that rat of Larys - those false rumours, you remind yourself - but you can't help feeling your heart clench. You don't trust your voice enough to speak, to say anything.

"There's no one left in Harrenhal but her," he adds, as if you need that clarification, as if you need to know where he's been all this time.

You say nothing. Your throat is tight. If you speak, if you look at him, you'll cry again and betray your feelings all over again. You refuse to make a fool of yourself, not now.

"She's the one who saw you. In Winterfell." There's a hint of bitterness in his voice as he mentions the place where you've spent the last few years rebuilding yourself, trying to forget him. A bit of anger, perhaps, too.

"Cregan Stark welcomed me indeed," you reply curtly. Perhaps you want to hurt him as he hurt you, but you are deliberately vague in your answer. "I have mourned you, qybor."

Everything is so confused in your mind. A paradoxical blend of desire, anger, sadness, jealousy. Of love too.

You want to strangle him and melt on his lips at the same time, and you know that after all this time you should be used to feeling this paradox of emotions with Aemond. Your uncle was a set of contradictions all his own.

"I saw you. On Midnight. That's how I knew you were here."

You nod. Words don't work between you, you know that. It has always been like that; the habit of letting silence speak more than words. The habit of communicating through the carnal acts of your bodies against each other. *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Aemond pushes you against the wooden door as soon as you enter the mediocre room of the inn. He is demanding, more than ever, as his hands run along your hips to your thighs to lift you up and press you against the door, your legs closing around him. He watches you with hungry eyes, like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. You can't stop a moan from escaping your lips.

There's something feverish, passionate, urgent about the kiss. And when his tongue begs for an opening, your lips part to welcome him. There is only you in this room, an interlude where nothing else exists, where you don't have to worry about your duties and loyalties, where you are guided by nothing but passion.

His hand slams against the wall next to your head and with a movement of his hips he lifts you a little higher onto his waist, your legs locked tightly around him. He grunts into the crook of your neck at the friction of your crotch against his.

"Tell me to stop." His hand which isn't against the wall to support your weight slides up to your jaw. He lifts your chin, his gaze locked in yours, searching for clues, anything that would betray your desire to end whatever it is you're doing. "Tell me to stop now, or I won't be able to."

You don't want to stop. You should, you know you should, but you silence the little voice in your conscience that's begging you to pull yourself together, to end it all before you've even started, before you've even gone too far, and you kiss him with more vigour, with more fervour.

"I'm not going to tell you to stop, qybor," you whisper against his lips. "You know that."

His hardened member twitches beneath you at the mention of the High Valyrian, at the mention of that nickname he's so fond of. It's his weakness, you know, and despite the three years he's been away, he hasn't changed.

It's so good to feel him against you again, to feel his lips against yours, along your jawline to the junction with your neck. In one sharp movement, he rolls his hips to meet yours, pressing you a little harder against the wooden wall, and he catches your moan between his lips.

You know that tonight there will be no shy touches between you, no awkward explorations like in the early days of your love, when it wasn't tainted by war, blood, and death yet. You and he will both be consumed by the burning fire of passion. You both need to release that tension and frustration, to make up for lost time, to drown, drunk with desire, in the most carnal of acts. All that matters now are his hands on your body to ease the pain pulsing between your thighs, the desperate need to feel him inside you.

The barrier of your clothes frustrates you. You need to feel his skin against yours, to feel all of him, and your hand runs down his body to pull at the cord holding his breeches together. Immediately his fingers close around your wrist to hold you back. He wants to be in control, you know. But it has been three years and something about you just isn't the same.

"Let me worship you like I used to, qybor," you whisper against his lips, your forehead pressed against his, and you feel his jaw tighten. There's a moment of hesitation in his eyes, clouded by desire.

His thumb caresses your lips, pressing against your lower lip. You part them, just enough for the tip of your tongue to wet the top of his thumb. There are no further words exchanged between you, just silence, punctuated by your gasping breaths. His hand closes around your throat, not pressing too hard, just enough so you can feel the weight of his palm against your windpipe, just to remind you that he's in complete control of the situation.

Fuck, you've missed it; the adrenaline of his hand around your throat, the adrenaline of knowing he could do anything to you and you'd be defenceless.

"On your knees then."

The command echoes through the room and you feel the wetness seeping between your thighs as you slide to your knees in front of him. Your eyes shine with envy and you look up at him as you did years ago. You know he can't resist the angelic look on your face when you're between his thighs. You know he can't resist the dichotomy between the innocent look on your face and the sinful act you're about to commit. He revels in your submission, and that's something you've learned to use against him.

Your uncle releases his cock from his breeches, his hand wrapped around the base, and the desire you feel between your thighs becomes more and more unbearable. The head is already glistening with anticipation, white pearls beading at the slit, and it takes all of Aemond's self-control not to grab you by the hair and force himself into your mouth entirely.

Closing the distance, he rubs his member against your lips to spread the wetness before pushing into your mouth. Your lips close around him. He's warm and heavy on your tongue and the hand holding the base of his manhood is replaced by yours to cover what you can't take. Your tongue curls around the tip first, absorbing his salty taste, and you look up at him through your long lashes. He doesn't look away from you.

His hand cups your cheek, his thumb caresses your cheekbone before sliding to the corner of your lips, just where his length disappears between them. It's as if he's hypnotised by the spectacle, by the bobbing of your head, by your hollowed cheeks, by your application and devotion.

His hands leave your jaw and sink into your thick curls, urging you to take him a little deeper, and he thrusts between your lips with more vigour. You close your eyes, concentrating on not choking as his member touches the back of your throat. You take it as diligently and assiduously as ever, ignoring the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.

"That's it, just like that. Such a good girl, mandianna [niece], such a good wife," you hear him grunt, his movements more erratic, more jerky, and you revel in his praise, sending a new wave of heat between your thighs. "Only for me."

You feel him throb on your tongue. You know it won't be long now, and you prepare yourself to welcome him, to let the salty taste of his seed flood your tongue, but your uncle pulls back reluctantly.

"I would rather not waste." he whispers, his eyes riveted on the thread of saliva that connects your lips, glistening with saliva and precum, to the tip of his cock. You shudder. Aemond definitely hasn't changed much, you realise.

His hand finds your cheek again and he caresses your lips to spread the mess you've made by sucking him. You know he isn't finished. This is just the beginning and you're both driven by the consuming hunger of passion. You know what's coming now, your core clenching around nothing, and you rub your thighs together, in an attempt to soothe the impatience.

He urges you to stand. He has that predatory look in his eyes as he closes the distance between you with his determined steps.

" Undress," he orders, and you do not take your eyes off him as you untie the linen dress you had put on to disguise yourself as a common girl.

The garment falls heavily to the floor, forming a grey puddle at your feet, and you take a step forward.

"Do you not like seeing me dressed in rags, qybor?" you ask in a playful tone, teasing, referring to the time, years ago, when he had rescued you during your adventurous walk along the grim Silk Road where your uncle Aegon had accidentally led you.

The memory was so close and yet so far away.

Aemond takes a step towards you, his hand brushing aside the long hair that hides your breasts to tuck it behind your shoulder.

"Not when you are meant to be my Queen." His eye glow with desire. He studies your body in detail as his fingers slide down your collarbone to your breasts. His thumb traces their underside before moving up to your nipples, hardened by the cool evening air and desire. He plays with them, eliciting a moan that satisfies him. He looks at you like one looking at a prize, a long-awaited gift.

"Three years away from my beautiful wife," he whispers, his good eye gleaming as he looks at your breasts.

"You did have pleasant company in Harrenhal though, didn't you?" you hiss through your teeth and Aemond's hand suddenly closes around your throat to make you swallow your insolence. You're not afraid, not anymore, for you know he won't hurt you. You have this power over him and it's delicious.

His face is so close to yours that your noses are touching.

He doesn't let go of you.

"It wasn't like that." He whispers. "With her." You know he's sincere because he's almost awkward with his words, his explanation. You can see in his eye that there are so many other things he would like to tell you, but you have learned not to rush him. It has always been difficult for him to open up, to be vulnerable.

His fingers release you. Aemond is a good head taller than you, and as he puts a hand on your shoulder, moving forward to force you back until your knees hit the mattress, your eyes remain fixed on his.

Your uncle lays you down on the mattress. It's not the comfort of the bed you once shared, but you don't care, you just need him inside you.

You need him to make you feel whole again. Aemond was fire, and you were willing to burn for him. You had always burned for him.

In the candlelight of the small bedroom where you spend the night, you see his thumbs slip under the waistband of his breeches. His clothes quickly join yours on the floor.

There's something soothing about the weight of his naked body on top of yours. Once under him, you know you can surrender completely to him and stop thinking, just stop thinking.

His lips on yours, his hands on your body, his broad torso eclipsing your smaller figure.

He places kisses down your neck to your collarbone, sucking your skin between his teeth to leave purple marks that will blossom tomorrow.

He kisses your breast, his lips closing around an erect nipple which he sucks gently, then around the other. Your hands are buried in his long silver hair. You can feel how wet you are between your thighs. You need him desperately, right there.

The confidence with which his fingers slide down your waist, from your hips to your inner thighs, only emphasises his ravenous expression. His touch on your folds sends a wave of heat through your body, causing your hips to move against his hand. Softly tracing the curves of your crotch, his index and middle fingers finally part your folds to collect the wetness that has formed there.

"Is it sucking your husband's cock that has got you so wet?

Yes, you want to answer, seeking more contact, but the words are stuck in your throat.

"Stay still," he orders in a hoarse voice as you move your hips, his hands gripping your hips to pin you back against the mattress.

You comply, for once, because you know he won't give you what you want otherwise. And you can't wait any longer, not today, not when you thought you'd never feel his warmth against your body again, his hands on your hips, his cock inside you.

"You see, you can be a good girl." His voice is softer when you obey. And to reward you, his fingers slide to your entrance, where he applies a little pressure with the tip of his middle finger without actually penetrating you. "Now beg your husband to fill you."

"Please, qybor," you murmur, your hand taking his cheek to bring his face to yours. You want him to look at you. "Please, I need you inside."

Oh, the slowness and precision with which his finger plunges into you makes you throw your head back. He begins to move back and forth, his index finger joining his middle one, caressing your spongy walls, his thumb tracing circles around your bud. Curling his fingers, he strokes that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble and you clutch the sheets beneath you.

You feel your centre tighten around his fingers, the release you've been looking for so close, so very close. You shut your eyes, ready for the familiar wave of warmth to wash over your entire body, but your uncle pulls his fingers away. You grunt in frustration.

You open your eyes only to see Aemond bring his fingers to his lips indecently, spreading your wetness over his own lips. "You still taste so good," he purrs, and you feel the blush rise to your cheeks.

He leans over to kiss you and you taste yourself on his lips. It's indecent.

He pulls back and you see him wrap his hand around his hardened cock, the head angrily red and already drooling in anticipation. He guides himself to your core, rubbing his length between your folds, coating it with your glistening juices.

The round tip of his member enters you, slowly at first, stretching your narrow entrance as if to give you time to adjust. Aemond pushes and he sinks easily into you until he's fully seated, your warm, wet walls feeling heavenly around him, squeezing him just right.

" You are so tight," he growls against you as your arms close around him, your legs bent and pressed to either side of his body.

He gives you a moment to get used to having him inside you again, to feeling him so deeply. It's exactly what you need; he stretches you deliciously, with a perfect touch of controlled pain.

You feel whole again and you want to cry. You never want to lose that feeling. You want to keep him, against you, inside you.

You close your eyes and bury your head in the hollow above his shoulder, clinging to him as if to feel him more deeply, more intimately.

"You can move," you reply, rolling your hips to support your words. Aemond's hand immediately presses down on your stomach to hold you against the mattress and you bite your lower lip, almost guilty of forgetting his earlier command. He always has that need to control. He's the one who decides, you should know it after all these years, and you should stop being so demanding, so desperate.

"I said stay still," he scolds you, and the waiting is unbearable.

You need him.

When he finally pulls out and thrusts into you again, you let out a whimper. Your nails dig into the pale skin of his back, leaving crescent marks that will probably still be there the next day.

Once under him, Aemond has the ability to make you vulnerable, and part of you hate him for it.

"You take me so well," he growls after a particularly brutal thrust. "You're such a good girl."

The praise is sweet music to your ears. You have always needed it, to be praised, complimented.

You feel him hitting that special spot deep inside you, you feel him pressing in so deeply and your grip tightens around him.

"Did you miss me?" you whisper in a voice made weak by pleasure, but all you get in return are the hoarse grunts of his voice.

Aemond lowers his eyes to look at where you are joined, hypnotised by the sight of his cock disappearing inside you. The rhythm he imposes is powerful, deep, and his fingers find their way between your bodies, reaching your little bud at the top of your folds to trace circles on it. You won't last long and he knows it as he feels your walls tighten desperately around him. Your moans grow louder.

"Look at me." His voice barely brings you back to reality, even though your mind is already far away, even though you know you can't last much longer. Painfully, you open your eyes to meet your uncle's icy gaze. " I am going to fill you up." His pacing becomes more erratic, more sloppy, and you know he won't last much longer either. Leaning on his forearm, he continues to stroke your pearl in small circles. "I am going to fill you up and you're going to take it all."

The image of you, belly round with his child, haunts him. It never stopped haunting him, even on the brink of death, even when he thought he'd exhaled his last breath as he fell into the icy waters of the lake, his heart clenched with regret and remorse. It still is a wonder that he has survived. Perhaps, just perhaps, the Gods still had plans for him.

I'm going to fill you up. Words like that shouldn't bring you to ecstasy, and yet they do. Aemond reaches deeper, and as he feels your whole body convulse with the spasms of your orgasm, he joins you in your release. He spills his seed deep inside you before remaining still, buried against your womb, enjoying your warmth, making sure he's pouring every last drop into you.

He doesn't want to pull out, not yet, and you close your arms around his neck, your breast pressed against his chest as he softens inside you.

The weight of his body on yours is comforting. For the first time in years, you feel alive. For the first time in years, the open wound he left seems to be healing.

When he pulls out, you wince at the sensation of his cock slipping between your still too sensitive folds. You immediately miss the feeling of fullness.

You barely move, your whole body still sore from your lovemaking, but you can feel his cum leaking from your entrance onto the mattress below.

Again, Aemond's fingers are between your thighs that are glistening with the intimate essence of both of you, collecting his own seed and pushing it back into you. You whimper, still too sensitive, your lips brushing against his, and he remains inside you for a brief moment. He wants to make sure nothing is wasted.

And when he withdraws his fingers, he presses them against your lips for you to clean them.

You snuggle up against him, your head against his chest. Your hand caresses his chest, the fine line of his muscles, and he rests his chin on the top of your head, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you close. You enjoy the warmth of his body while you still can. Between your thighs you feel the sticky sensation of his seed mixing with your wetness as it still flows out of you, but you don't want to leave the embrace of his arms.

"I saw you in the gardens. With the child."

When you feel his throat vibrate, you look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed. "It was you, then?" You swallow. "It was you watching me." It's more of an observation than a question, and you suddenly understand that constant, uncomfortable feeling of being watched. At least you weren't crazy.

He lets out a hm and pauses.

"Is he yours?"

You know where this question is leading. You fear the moment of truth. You'd deluded yourself into thinking you could avoid it, but you were naive; did you really think you could hide the truth from him for much longer, now that he was back?

"Yes." You answer, looking away. You're nervous, and he can feel it.

"He's Cregan Stark's son, isn't he?"

Your heart clenches. You hesitate for a moment. You should lie. You know you should lie. To protect your son and your family, as you've protected them for the past three years. You only need one word.

You hear him sighing beneath you, taking your silence as confirmation.

"No, he's not."

The words leave your lips before you can even stop them. You hold your breath. Beneath you, Aemond tenses. He straightens, puzzled, silent.

"A bastard, then?" His voice is dry, almost mocking, revealing a form of irritation. "I did not expect this from you, dear niece." Disappointment.

You feel anger boiling inside you at the thought of him insulting your son, your sweet boy you love so much. You swallow the lump that has formed in your throat and rise on your forearms, your eyebrows furrowed as you turn your hard gaze on him.

You don't know how to express the words that are desperately trying to escape your lips.

" He has blue eyes," you add, and you can see the confusion on his face. A lock of hair slips from your shoulder and falls around your face. "Your blue eyes."

You feel him tense up. He says nothing, just stares at you with his one seeing eye. It's rare to see Aemond Targaryen so unsure of himself, so full of doubt. He stares at you as if he's afraid he's heard you wrong, as if he's afraid he's invented the words that have come out of your mouth.

"What did you say?"

You look away. You bite your lower lip, regretting your words. You want to bury your face in his chest. You breath.

"He is your son, Aemond." You finally admit it.

It's true that Rhaegar's brown curls could easily make him look like a Stark. Cregan had offered to raise him as his own, and you had smiled at his kindness.

Rhaegar is so much like you. Like you, and like Luke, and especially like Jace as a child, of whom he is the spitting image. He has the soft features of your face, but his eyes make him undeniably Aemond's son.

Your uncle holds you close, his arm wrapped around your waist, his long nose buried in the hollow of your neck, breathing in the scent of your hair.

"My son," he repeats in awe. It's rare to see Aemond smile with sincerity. Especially after the war has worn him down, made him more ruthless than ever.

"His name is Rhaegar," you say. "Just as we discussed." There's shyness in your voice.

He straightens, you on top, straddling him, and he seeks your lips to kiss you fiercely. His desire awakens beneath you; you feel him harden against your core again.

And this time, he makes love to you.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

"I missed the best part." He purrs against you, his hand absently caressing your breast before sliding down your body to rest on your flat stomach, just above where your womb lies. He clenches his hand possessively over your flesh. His voice is almost tinged with regret. Your hand rests on his.

"You shouldn't have left me," you reply, bitter. Deep down, you're still angry with him. Your gaze falls on your stomach, where both your hands lie, yours on top of his, clasped together. "You shouldn't have let your anger dictate your actions," you add, looking away. "But you were blinded by your desire for revenge, by your desire to prove that you could be better than him.” You swallow.

It is his fault, after all, that he missed your son's birth, that he didn't see him grow through the tender years of his infancy.

Rhaegar needed a father, and it was Cregan who raised him.

"Does he even know who I am? Who his father is?"

The guilty look on your face betrays you, and you know immediately that you've hurt his feelings. It may be selfish of you, but he needs to understand.

"You were supposed to be dead. There's still a lot he doesn't know."

He doesn't say anything. You don't have the courage to meet his hard, stern gaze, you don't have the courage to see the disappointment and pain on his face, because if you do, your heart will tighten and you will fall apart.

"He's still so young. Give him time." You add, your fingers tracing small circles on the back of his hand, in an attempt to soothe him.

You know how much Aemond wanted a son, and you know it's cruel to take that from him. You know he would have made a good father. You can picture him with Rhaegar on his knee, reading him stories, telling him about the adventures of Vhagar and Visenya, and you love the image that forms in your mind.

You told Rhaegar about Aemond, though he was still too young to understand. You told him that his father had once owned the greatest dragon in the world, that his father was a fearless man for it was true, and you saw his big eyes light up.

Aemond pulls you closer to him. "I want to be there for him, you know." Unlike Viserys, but he doesn't have to say it, you understand what he means in the undertone he leaves at the end of his sentence. He has always suffered from his father's indifference.

You cuddle up to him and he runs his fingers through your long curls. For a moment, you imagine that everything is fine and you search for his touch. He plants a kiss on the top of your head.

"I've missed you," he admits, the words landing on the tips of his lips in the silence of the bedroom, but you're already dozing off.

You know that tomorrow will be made up of choices and decisions.

But for now, you fall asleep in the embrace of his very real arms, for once, enjoying the illusion of the life you both could have had.

#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #Aemond Targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fic #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x niece!reader #aemond targaryen fanfic

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elfyelation · 8 months

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𝐢'𝐦 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 | oneshot

pairing—astarion x m!tav summary—when tav falls ill, everyone at camp is surprised to find that astarion is intent on staying by his side until he’s better warnings—illness, mention of poison, soft astarion, worried astarion, worried party, hurt/comfort, extensive use of pet names, super soft, extreme fluff word count—754 rating—teen note—this is entirely self-indulgent because i’ve been really ill this past week (thanks covid) and the whole time i was thinking about how astarion would comfort tav if he was hurt/sick so i came up with the idea for this

“How is he?” he asks and for what might be the first time, she can hear sincerity in his voice.

“Better,” the cleric sighed, “He’s getting better but he’ll still need some time to recover. You can sit with him but if I see those fangs of yours anywhere near him—”

Astarion rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest. "I assure you, Shadowheart, my intentions are far from what you seem to believe. I would never harm Tav. Surely that much has become clear to you by now?"

The sceptical half-elf hummed, “I suppose he will be safe enough for now. Even if your concern for him was a lie I doubt you’d want to risk sucking up any poison that might still be loitering in his veins.”

He knew she had every right to be distrusting of him, especially when it came to Tav’s safety. He only hoped one day they would all finally see just how much Tav really meant to him. That his feelings weren’t a lie. Until then, he’d have to make do with their concern over their friend and his questionable taste in partners.

“A… Astarion?” His weak voice croaked out the moment the vampire spawn ducked inside the tent.

Tav was laying on the blankets, his body completely sweat-ridden as his face contorted with discomfort. He was in still pain, still so vulnerable.

Astarion was by his side in an instant, his cold hands reaching out to gently touch his lover’s forehead. “Don’t worry, darling, I’m here. I’m right here.”

The cool touch of his hand was welcome as it immediately began to cool Tav’s fever. Gale had already expressed his suspicion that it would do as much. There certainly were at least a few perks of being undead.

“Let’s cool you down, shall we?” He wasted no time removing his shirt before crawling down beside his lover. One strong arm gently wrapped around Tav and pulled him closer, hoping that the coldness of his skin would help ease at least some of the pain.

Tav's laboured breaths finally began to slow as he nestled into the embrace, finding solace in the chill of Astarion's body. His fingers wrapped themselves around the cool arm around him, pulling it closer to his chest.

The vampire spawn chuckled against his ear. “Easy, little love, I’m not going anywhere.” His fingers traced delicate patterns on Tav's forehead, willing the fever to subside.

Outside the tent, Shadowheart kept a close eye on the pair and, in doing so, her initial scepticism gradually gave way to a begrudging acceptance of the vampire's genuine concern. She couldn't deny the tenderness she saw in Astarion's eyes as he cared for their companion. It was a side of him she hadn't seen before. A side of him she hadn’t even known was there.

Maybe it wasn’t just about self preservation or sexual desire. Just maybe he truly did care for Tav. She never thought love was something he was capable of but the longer she watched them, the more she realised just how wrong she had been.

Soon enough, his lover was sound asleep in his arms. Sleeping without a sign of pain or discomfort. It was the first time he’d slept properly since his affliction which meant Shadowheart was right, he was getting better.

“You know, you really scared me for a moment there. I… I thought I was going to lose you. I don’t want to go through that again.”

He spoke despite knowing there was no one to hear him. Speaking to a sleeping lover who, as if on instinct, rolled over to snuggle closer into him.

"I'll protect you with everything I have, my love," Astarion murmured, "I promise you that. You mean more to me than I ever thought possible." He knew that Tav couldn't hear him, but the words were as much for himself as they were for his lover.

Astarion had always been a creature of darkness, bound by instinct and desire. Forced to do his cynical master’s bidding. Yet, in Tav's presence, he had found a glimmer of something different, something more profound. It was a love he never thought he deserved, but now that he had it, he would do anything to defend it.

And so, beneath the starlit sky, Astarion held Tav close, vowing silently to cherish every moment they had together, determined to prove that his love was not just words but a promise to protect and endure, no matter the cost.

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thelastofhyde · 1 year

Text

i. the likeability paradox.

pairing. joel miller x fem!reader

synopsis. joel miller is not a man who strives to be liked, with a chip on his shoulder and a scowl on his face, until his world is flipped on its axis when the pretty young thing living under bill and frank's roof, with an irritatingly unwavering smile and the literal sun shinning out her ass, says those five damned words: i don't like you, joel.

warnings. no use of y/n, enemies to lovers, slow burn ( i have several oneshots planned for this couple ), unrequited love ( except you will never catch joel miller admitting he feels anything beyond grief, hunger and exhaustion ), pining, poor communication no communication, no seriously joel is down bad it's actually disgusting and highkey 🚩toxic🚩 but luckily red is your favourite colour, sunshine!reader, grumpy!joel aka canon joel, kinda perv!joel ( if you squint ), implied queer!tess, undefined age gap ( reader implied late-20s ), descriptions of canon-typical violence, smut ( oral- f receiving, fingering, degradation, panty stealing, hair pulling, dirty talk, dubcon due to intoxication, joel kinda gives her a wedgie at some point and honestly i don’t know what i was hoping to achieve with that, discussions of a lacklustre sex-life pre-apocalypse ). reader is a) hinted at being shorter than joel but it’s not central to the plot and b) described as lithe but the meaning intended is graceful, not thin!

word count. 12.9k

hyde’s input. half-way through, the regret of choosing to write this from joel's pov started to settle in but lmao i was too far in to not commit to the bit. don't come at me for the fact the timeline or events may not seem plausible with canon, i just wanna write this silly little depraved fic about joel in peace :( anyway, enjoy my first attempt at writing for tlou, forming a prayer circle rn in hopes that this doesn't flop because i will cry and you will hear about it

taglist. @kayleezra @newavenger + add yourself to the taglist here !

read on ao3 ! ( capitalization available )

distaste is not new in the life of joel miller.

in particular, one that is loaded, aimed and fired directly at him. he is not a likeable guy, often by choice and rarely by accident. the years of pain from a bleeding wound have now scarred over into nothing but an empty shell of the man that once was, from a world that no longer is, and he’s tried little to fill himself back up.

if anything, he’s made himself more empty.

rid himself of feelings, that which saves him the weakness of appearing sympathetic. discarded the need for luxuries, for which he’d scarcely cared for prior to his world ending. lay to rest what was left of the optimist inside him, leaving behind the danger of hope for it to rot with the rest of the infected.

an apocalyptic world brings out all sides of man that one would never dare to engage with in normal civilisation. joel learned swiftly that he was built to endure, quick to evolve and adapt to the new world order. the man who once worked his hardest to keep the peace among his neighbours, smiling that little bit wider on days he’d catch them scowling to themselves in hopes of brightening one part of their day for even a simple moment, would be at odds with the man who wears a heavy layer of enjoyment when met with the scowling glances and the hushed voices, all the watch out for that miller guys passed between cowardly members of fedra and the keep away from mr. miller's lawns spoken harshly from mother to child becoming music to his failing ears.

this plague of fear-driven dislike keeps him alone, how he likes to be, no one to lose and nothing to be taken. somewhere along the years the idea of safety in numbers has morphed into an illusion, something people say and never truly mean, to distract themselves from a reality more bitter than a snowstorm: in times of survival, people become dead-weight.

“so that’s all i am to ya, huh? dead-fucking-weight?” his brother’s voice still echoes in that damned space he calls a home, weeks or months or years since the day he’d departed for something else, somewhere else, leaving joel to do what joel does best: endure.

somehow, silence was easier than telling the man he’d taught to tie a shoelace, to shave his beard, to tune a guitar that he was the dead-weight, doomed to drag all those who remained too close down into his pit of despair.

she was an exception, his tess, buried 5-feet-under in her own swell of darkness, nothing but the tips of her fingers stretched out above her head to feel the sun upon her skin and keep her from going that last foot deeper. they’d made a home for themselves in one another, one where he keeps them fed, and she keeps them safe, and neither of them keeps the place clean.

she never asks for more, and he never offers it, both content to survive without the weight of affection smothering them. contrary to the belief of any misfortunate soul who’s encountered the pair within the quarantine zone, she is the one who holds the leash, tugging joel along close by her heel and keeping him from wandering off into the wild to surrender himself to a feral lifestyle.

which lands him here, sat at a table playing happy family, each time he dares to snark out a few words being met with the sharp kick of tess’ foot against his shin.

“... and then,” frank struggles over a cough, so excited in his story-telling that he fails to separate taking a breath from taking a sip of his wine. with a roll of eyes and a disapproving grunt, bill’s no more than two seconds away from clapping down on his back, urging the other man’s wind-pipes to unblock and welcome back airflow. “otis dragged his muddied self over the whole house. we were finding paw-prints for days!”

joel’s unamused, too keen to think of what a nuisance that would be. as if incapable of feeling the buzzing energy of disinterest, the german shepherd drops its head further up his lap, begging for a morsel of anything that sits atop the table.

“which means i was cleaning paw-prints for days.” bill, the only one at the table besides himself who wears the looks of a cynic, grumbles out before shovelling what remains on his plate into his mouth.

frank is quick to shush him.

“i’m sorry, again, bill,” he doesn’t mean to break eye-contact from the mutt at his thigh, but the voice calls to him like a siren calls to a ship in the night, like a flame dances and seduces a moth into its brightly burning touch of death, a spotlight in the dark which promises- or threatens- more light to come. “i’d no clue there was a storm coming till we were already a good few miles away, and there was nowhere to take cover to wait it out.”

there you sit, parallel to him.

the sun rests lower in the sky as time carries you all into the late noon, its rays a beacon of light bursting out just behind your head, painting you in the glow of the golden hour and staining a mockery of a halo above you. it hurts his eyes, this brightness that you so easily bask in, forcing him to squint and deepen the frown on his face.

you catch him with his sights on you, at some point, and the smile you meet his scowl with has him cursing at the sun, and the moon, and every star that sits between.

the threat of a great war looms in the air as you rush to rise up and help clear the table of the remnants left behind- none of which joel can account for, mouth to keen and body too starved to skip out on enjoying the mundane luxury of a fresh, home-cooked meal. the battle ends swiftly as you surrender to bill’s hardened stare, and frank’s disapproving head-shakes, and tess’ own plan of action to simply force you down back into the seat you’d been sat in- the one you always sit in.

“you, sit. no one should have to clean up the food they made.”

they get no fight out of him when they insist he’d done enough catching the so-called food.

silence casts its shadow over the table, dampening the light and painting you both in a mockery of greyed tones- truthfully, it is the disappearance of the sun hind a large cloud that causes such a thing.

being alone, with you, is something joel’s never mastered. the affliction of your presence is so much greater when there’s no one else to balance out your natural shine- the kind that has his head spinning and his cock aching-, no one but him.

were he not a sick bastard, he’d try harder to not make you sad.

something bumps his hands, ripping him out of his moral self-condemnation. the dog meets his gaze, eyes a widened mess of puppy-dog pleading that punctuates its existence with an impatient whine.

just like your owner, he finds himself thinking and not saying- never saying-, yet to find your bark.

the ball’s a sticky mess of slobber and dirt, and joel touches it all the same, throwing it up in the air once, then twice, before tossing it across the yard. he’s slumped back in his chair by the time he registers the dog’s departure, a ball of dark fluff bouncing its way across the garden, and all the man can think is fuck, he’ll be feeling the effect of that throw on his shoulder come the morning.

the pain is not enough to stop him from tossing the ball again, and once more, and then yet again, sending the dog in a never ending loop of chase, grab, retrieve- a parallel to his life of wake, survive, sleep.

“he likes you,” you never leave things the way he wishes them to be, bursting his bubble with the vocal reminder of your presence.

as if on queue, prompted by your addressing of it, the dog drops its interest in joel, and the ball, and the chasing, tail wagging uncontrollably by the time it reaches your side. standing on its hind legs, it collapses the front of itself into your waiting lap, and joel watches how you wrap your arms so easily around something that could cause you harm.

to envy a creature that licks it own shit off its ass is a new low for joel.

“thinkin’ he might like ya more, sol.” the nickname rolls off his tongue with ease, the safer option than uttering your name, a vice and virtue he’s only permitted himself in idealistic fantasies that play out in his own troubled thoughts.

“most people do,” whether you mean to make it seem like you’re degrading his very existence or not, he’s unsure, but it rouses a chuckle out of him.

he takes note of how you don’t protest the name he’s branded you with, not like how you’d fought tooth and nail against it every other visit he and tess have made.

“you’ve got a whole load in common, you know? i think that’s got something to do with his fascination-”

“how the hell’s a man like me got somethin’ in common with a four-legged mutt?” there he goes again, making that smile slip down your cheeks with a simple use of his voice. it helps as much as it hurts, frown loosening up and eyes no longer strained beneath the bright shine of your visceral optimism.

“well, you’re both... hairy,” he restrains himself from reacting, washing down a laugh with the help of the dregs of wine that lay collecting at the bottom of his glass. he’s let his appearance grow more rugged over the past few months and your noticing of this brings an unwanted warmth to his aching bones. “and have the most kickass women in your lives to stop you from dying.”

he’s interested to know what life would be like under your protection.

discovering the answer brings the threat of pain, and loss, and an openness to vulnerability he can not afford himself, so he takes the safer option: “‘s easy stayin’ safe when you live in this fantasy land. doubt your mutt’d last any longer than a day out in reality.”

with you as its protector.

he doesn’t say it and, still, it somehow hovers in the space between you both, a heavy, syrupy implication that slips down your throats and threatens to suffocate you. he watches you choke on it, coughing on his cruelty and feigning it to be a simple clearing of your throat. your eyes glue themselves on the dog, delicate fingers smoothing over the well-groomed hairs down its back.

survival has turned him into a man who knows when to seize an opportunity, and this is one he takes with both hands, basking in the simplicity of staring, watching, observing you without the crime of being caught.

but i could keep you safe.

he toys with the danger of uttering such a thing aloud. it’s not the first time he’s thought it. truthfully, he’s unsure when it first nestled its way into his mind.

his memory, which ails him more than it aids him these past years, would have him believe it was way before the dog had even appeared, back when it was just bill, frank and you. a few whiskeys in and a campfire lit for you all to gather for warmth around- why you’d all chosen to sit out in the gardens on a winter’s night joel remains unsure of to this day-, it was frank who’d prompted the question. “where were you all when... this started?” tess went first, braver than most people he knows, sharing stories of a version of herself he’ll never meet.

he never imagined her working in a bank.

bill, with reluctance, took the next step, keeping his account factual and to the point. “was shit-faced drunk and getting my stomach pumped.” he’d been quick to skim over the story of the young nurse who’d guided him to safety out the hospital, losing her own life in exchange for his survival. she was barely out of school. “i knew her dad, bit of an asshole, but boy, was he proud of his baby for graduating.” frank couldn’t let him swim too deep in his thoughts, afraid a current of guilt would trap him and drown him in the depths of it, and so he raised his own voice and began his tale.

joel had always been a good listener. being a single parent to a teenage girl required him to be, or so... she would have had him believe, nights at the table set for two spent listening to the playground he-said-she-said gossip. years later and he at last prefers things this way, a rare gem of safety found in the act of saying nothing and hearing everything- that his hearing will allow. all this to say, he’d tried his best to pay attention to frank’s impassioned retelling of his heroic misadventures that had lead him to the unintentional arms of bill.

but you weren’t smiling.

he watched you, you watched the dancing flames, face stoic and drained of that natural shine his eyes had only just started to be able to gaze upon without the threat of being blinded by such light.

the desire crept up on him like a tiger to it’s prey, hiding in the far off bushes until the opportunity to strike presented itself and the feeling lunged for joel’s back, gripping him in its claws and piercing his ribcage with its gnashing teeth. with each bite, it plagued him with the delusions of a wandering mind, imagination left free to run laps around his head with visions of you from another life, another time, another set of people gathered round a dining table. he’d wanted to hear about the ones you’d lost, and comfort you with all the things he hated hearing (“you’ll keep ‘em alive, in spirit and memory!” “those we remember never truly die!”). he’d needed to bend a knee and swear a vow to be the one to stand between you and death, to fight for your survival on your behalf. ‘could keep you safe. there, then, the thought did cross his mind.

he’d washed it down with a swig of lukewarm, flat beer.

“-could fix it, you know. i’m good with my hands.”

he almost chokes on his own breath.

i'm good with my hands, it swims in circles round his mind, replaying and echoing off the walls of his skull. and he knows- oh, how he knows- that he’ll be replaying it in those moments of solitude for the next few nights, weeks, months- however long it may take till he forgets the way such thought-provoking words sound on your lips.

“what?” the question leaves him harsher than he intends, drawing an enemy line between you both with the foul sound of it. in the corner of his eye, he swears he sees you flinch backwards, physically recoiling from the disdain-filled bullet he fires in your direction.

the mutt in your lap retreats, hackles rising as it turns to face joel once more.

he sees it, in the dog’s brutal protectiveness over you, this similarity you claim exists.

“your watch, it’s broken.”

“hadn’t noticed,” he’s retreating into his own space now, mentally and physically, scraping the legs of his chair against the ground as his mind works to strengthen those walls that threaten to crumble so often in your presence. “don’t need ya to fix it.”

you pull a face, brows furrowing and lips pouting. confusion.

“don’t you want to know the time?” you ask, as if time could ever be relevant in a rotten world where down is up, and up is down, and joel miller is not the overprotective father to the most delicate creature the god he’d stopped believing in had gifted him, just to force him to watch as life snatched her away.

“i don’t keep it for the time.”

you smile, and this one’s a killer, piercing straight through the cages of his ribs to carve itself into his withered heart.

the german shepherd relaxes with the rebrightening of your aura, shaking out the tension from its body before sauntering its way back over to joel, ball in mouth and tail wagging excitedly, as if it hadn’t just contemplated having its first taste of human flesh.

he’s throwing the toy in a matter of minutes, enjoying the repeated run and retrieve game, and the renewed silence that comes along with it. nature sings its tune with rustling leaves, cawing crows, and pounding paws. it’s almost so easy to leave your offer, your words, his broken watch in the rearview mirror of this otherwise pleasant afterno-

“ooh, so there’s a story to tell!” you’re blinding him with your excitement, lithe limbs leaning forward in your own chair in an attempt to reach closer, table between you be damned. “i’ve never heard any of the joel miller backstory, this should be-”

“i get that likin’ everyone is your thing, but would’ya give it a rest?”

nature falls silent.

skies grow dull.

you juggle sadness.

there’s a crash that comes from within the house, followed by the unmistakable sound of tess’ sailor mouth, cursing whichever delicate dish she’s broken into smithereens with the help of her accident prone hands. the dog’s lain itself down upon the grass, ball between it’s paws as it begins to bite, and chew, and break it under the pressure of its canines.

joel wonders what the mutt’s practicing for.

“sure,” then, with the return of your voice, all sounds resume, harmony upon planet earth once more. only, the gates have been shut in his face and joel finds himself forced to watch as everything unfolds from the outside, an unwelcome visitor forced out into exile with the fungal freaks and the inhumane. “but you’re wrong. i don’t like everyone.”

“‘s that so.” his eyes roll. the hole he’s dug for himself sinks deeper, casting you higher up on the pedestal joel will always be wiling to place you on.

“yeah,” you’ve risen out your chair, gifting him the view of how the fabric of your dress dances above your knee, a final twist of the knife in his heart that he lets you pierce his flesh with each time he surrenders himself to your existence. “i don’t like you, joel.”

the hours come and go, but your words linger like a bad tattoo, shamefully engraved into his skin and banning him to a life of noticing the horrendous thing each time he passes by his own reflection.

we’re staying, for tonight. tess had called the shots, and he’s been learning not to argue when she gives him one of her stern looks, biting down on the comments he’d wanted to make of the dangers of being out of the qz for too long, which would likely earn him nothing but a shrug and the reminder that they both were off duty the following day

the nights are beginning to grow darker as winter grows nearer, leading bill and frank- mostly frank- to excuse themselves to bed, bidding the two visitors with a final reminder to make themselves comfortable in whichever room they can find. if only joel could remember which door leads to yours.

the two women in his life remain awakened, passing a bottle of wine between each other as you both converse back and forth, catching each other up on one another’s life, satiating that craving for mundane gossip.

tess recounts the scandal of the poor boy who’d been caught sleeping with a fedra agent’s wife, you whisper that frank and bill had been fighting again recently. the memory of being ambushed by raiders- now dead raiders- comes to life once more with the help of tess’ voice, while the promise to uncover what exactly bill and frank were hiding from you as of late is sealed in your words.

at some point, he lays himself to rest atop the couch, legs stretched out and arms crossed over his chest, ignoring the squeeze of the fabric over his forearms as the too-small flannel struggles to contain the muscles forged by the need to survive. at another point, he’s lulled to sleep by the lullaby of your mingling voices, a safety blanket draping itself over his tired body and enveloping him in the comforts of having that which he struggles to care so little for, so near him once more.

-n’t tell me you’re a virgin.

the words are muffled as the man slips back into consciousness, a frown coming to rest on his forehead as he battles against the demons urging him awake, the nightmarish memories of car crashes, and soldiers, and so much red chasing him away from the sleep he longs for so badly.

a protest rings true in his head and his ears.

was gonna say. knew you were young, but not that young.

it’s the sound of your laughter that awakens him fully, saving him from the tortures of his own mind.

“god, no! me and my ex, we... a few times. it was alright, i guess. i just, yeah, there’s not much to miss.”

he’s unwilling, unable to reopen his eyes, curling in on himself as he rolls over onto his side. a groan slips past his lips, one he’s hoping tess and you will dismiss as nothing more than the sleep-filled rambles of a dreaming man.

neither of you make any acknowledgement of him.

“not much to miss?! sweet christ, you’re breaking my fuckin’ heart.” he’s learnt over time the common traits of a drunken tess. each word becoming an exclamation, curses becoming more frequent, and that irritating habit she’s picked up of imitating his own accent. there’s no need to bother opening his eyes, joel’s already sure he’ll find his companion with flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. “i’d give up a hand for some head!”

you must do something, pull a face or shake your head, for the sound of tess’ renewed shock fills the room. he wonders, as the sound bounces off the walls, how late into the night it’s grown.

late enough that the cicadas singing outside the window are now accompanied by the hoots of an owl.

“you’ve got to be shittin’ me.”

“it bores me!”

“it bores you!?”

the couch beneath joel creaks as he shifts once more, turning his back on you both as the ability to contain his laughter grows harder with each word you exchange and each gasp tess gives. the last thing he needs is to be caught eavesdropping on your sex life like some dirty old pervert.

the crueler part of his mind replays your voice, i don’t like you, and the knife twists in his guts this time.

you like tess. love her, even. it’s been that way since the first time you’d met the duo, eyes giving one look over the woman before the smile on your face grew even wider, voice as sweet as honey sighing out finally someone with a pair of boobs, i’m bored of the sight of my own. joel’d gotten caught up in the thought of how he’d never tire of such a sight that he’d failed to acknowledge your greeting towards him, catching just the moment you drew your outstretched hand back to your side and offered him an understanding smile.

maybe that was the moment you decided you didn’t like him.

“must not have been doin’ ya right,” the bottle of southern comfort is working its wonders on the older woman, accent growing further and further from its true nature with each glass she nurses. joel hears the faint sound of ice smacking against glass and knows it must be yours. you’ve always struggled with liquors, slipping as many ice cubes as you can manage into a glass in hopes that they’ll eventually melt and water the alcohol down. it’s oddly endearing, you think no one has noticed. “this fella of yours.”

joel has no right to despise the idea of you and some fella.

he does so, regardless.

“well,” he imagines the shape of your meek smile and the way you shrug your shoulders. “we were each others firsts.”

“that’s no excuse! trust i left mine cryin’ into her pillow the first time i went down.” tess and he have a silent agreement to never speak of the nights joel would take refuge on their beaten-up couch while tess indulges herself between someone’s thighs in the bedroom. no discussing the sounds she pulls from her concubines, no addressing the wet patches left behind to stain their shared sheets, and definitely no speaking on how his hand winds up stained in his own cum.

you scoff and follow it up with a saccharine laced giggle, so sweet its bound to rot your teeth if you even attempt to hold it in. “what, are you offering your services?”

this he likes less than the image of you with some fella, the thought of having to lay upon a mattress on which tess had raised you to heaven while he once again remained locked out in the dark leaving his skin crawling with unwarranted rage.

“‘as sure as i am that you’re sweet all over, ‘fraid to tell you i like my women a little older than you.”

he knows he should do the same, should lust after those women his own age who shoot him carnal looks in the streets of the qz. it should be skin his own age that he longs to taste, and eyes who’ve seen as much as his own he wants to stare into, and lips as cruel as the ones he owns that he fights off the urges to kiss. but he can’t, and he won’t.

and you’re the one to blame.

you, with the glow of a thousand suns. you, with the hands that tend to flowers instead of corpses. you, with the gentle nature he’d have to spend the rest of his days fighting off every other living thing just to protect.

his own self being the first he’d need fight.

joel wonders what he’d missed in his hours- if it had even been so long- of rest, how the playground gossiping dissipated into reminiscing the pleasures of supple flesh and the sins of unfulfilling lovers. sleep steals him away once more before he can find the answers.

the next time he awakens, he’s drowning in a plight of cruel memories, a cold and brutal ocean of faces, places, and traces of the ephemeral sentiment of happiness he’d possessed once upon a time, back when the price of letting one’s guard down was not so high.

he’s learnt, with time, that losing her comes in waves. some small, meaningless little things, that ripple joel’s surface and coast gently over his dirt ridden skin. others, tsunamis. big, angry, all imposing. they’re born in ground-shaking explosions of grief, building speed, and height, and weight the closer they grow to crashing over him.

amidst the passing of time, he’s tried to keep himself busy in his awakened hours, to keep his mind occupied and avoid thinking about her too much. but the waves always come back, no matter how hard he tries to fight them or swim away from them. they catch him off guard, crashing over him when he least expects it. in the middle of a raid, lost in thought and standing ten inches deep in grime, blood, infected, and suddenly the weight of her absence will hit him like a ton of bricks.

the currents grow more violent whenever he closes his eyes.

this evening, it had been a minuscule wave, yet it’s damage still leaves him with sweat slicked skin. he reenters the land of the living choking on his own fear and shooting up-right, hardly registering his surroundings till his feet hit solid ground. the gentle, barely-there croon of a sinatra record punctuates the room alongside the dim glow of a lightbulb which flickers with the threat of expiring and leaving naught but the moonlight to wash over the dark of the night. across from him is tess, nursing a half-emptied cup against her chest and wearing tired eyes. snoring comes from below him, where joel finds he’s a mere foot away from having stepped upon the sleeping dog, curled in on itself and laying soundly by his side.

you take up no space of this room.

neither the dog nor the drunk pay him any mind as he pushes up onto his creaking knees, stretching out his limbs in a fight to undo the tension in his aching bod. languid steps carry him out into the hall, where he freezes under the self-questioning of where he’s going.

there are three answer to this: where he should, where he could, and where he would.

he should find himself a bedroom, perhaps be ostentatious enough to rid himself of those stale clothes and let the warmth of running water wash away the sins he’d committed throughout the day. a good night’s sleep, atop a mattress where springs do not dig into his back and the sheets are clean as could be, it would do him good.

he could head towards the kitchen, quench that thirst that he’s awoken with, cottonmouth and a headache to go with it too. perhaps he’ll find himself something to eat, indulge in the luxury of readily available food just this once, he’s sure frank wouldn’t mind. bill definitely would, but that’s not something he’ll need care about when he’s miles out and heading back to the qz.

he would try find you, open whichever door it is that leads into the haven that must be your bedroom. he imagines its clean, and organised, and smells of some syrupy lavender that is bound to nauseate him as he smothers his face into your bedsheets, eyes shut, and mind relaxed, the threat of those violent waves no concern to him as he anchors himself with an arm around your warm skin. skin he’s never felt, yet he stands firm in his belief it must be the most soothing thing to touch, as gentle and inviting as the heart it keeps safe within it.

i don’t like you, joel.

those words stop him from trying.

he tells himself it’s for the best.

with a mind of their own, his legs have made the choice for him and deliver him outside the opening to the kitchen. he swallows down a gulp of his own saliva at the prospect of a glass of water. the door’s already half-opened, and joel nearly thanks christ for it as the fear of waking anyone with the squeaking of the handle is eliminated. the darkness of the night encompasses the room, even with the moon’s shine reflecting off every surface it touches: the counters, the knife stand, the metal drawer handles, the refrigerator.

the refrigerator.

it’s open, a blue light shining out of it and illuminating anything it its proximity. a subtle beeping noise rings from it, and suddenly joel’s back in his thirties, dead-beat yet well-intentioned brother stealing the food off his own plate as he beckons his pre-teen daughter back into the kitchen.

keep leavin’ this open and it’s a job you’ll be gettin’ this summer, not a dog.

she never lived long enough to get either.

he catches something move beneath the artificial light. cautious at first, it’s all the more startling to find the object of his ire and the embodiment of his desire stood leaning back against the countertop, a glass full of orange liquid pressed to a mouth that parts and welcomes in the sugary sweet delight.

“why aren’t ya sleepin’?” the words rasp out his throat, catching and scratching on the parts of him that still yearn for something to wet his tongue with.

beneath the light, you shrug, “could ask you the same thing, texas.”

he curses tess for teaching you such a nickname.

he curses himself more for the way you saying it twists up his insides.

you’re teasing him, smile a little looser and eyes less focused than he’s used to seeing. whether you’re tipsy or simply delirious with exhaustion, joel remains unaware.

he grunts, daring to take a few steps further into the kitchen. the door behind him closes over and give the illusion of the space becoming smaller, tighter, more compact.

“i asked first.” you laugh, at him. full on chest-rumbling, hand over your belly, head thrown back- so abruptly it nearly crashes against the corner of the opened cabinet door. the corner of his mouth is curling upwards before he can catch himself. he hopes the refrigerator light shows less of him than it shows of you, bare legs, and messed hair, and pointed nipples all on display for his undeserving eyes. “‘s so funny, huh?”

“nothing, nothing,” he successfully fights off the urge to follow the drop of orange juice that spills down the side of your mouth, over your chin, down your neck, disappearing beneath the collar of your dress. perhaps he is not as successful as he believes. “just never heard the joel miller say something so childish. you’ve usually got your panties all in a bunch if someone so much as looks at you for too long.”

you make way as he inches closer, sliding yourself over to rest against the island counter. a fragrance of things he can’t quite pinpoint, but enjoys nonetheless, wafts in his face as he travels down the path to the sink. uncouth and unbothered, joel opens the tap and cups his hands beneath the stream of water.

“you know there’s a cupboard full of glasses right next to you, right?” you call out behind him as the man brings water to his dry lips, splashing and just about guiding his head beneath the stream. the thirst does not budge. he hums an acknowledgement of you, yet continues with his method.

by the time he switches the water off, you’ve made yourself busy, back facing him while you work at something atop the counter, a consistent chop-chop-chop filling the silence that settles between you both.

“i’m making soup,” you state, like there’s nothing quite more logical you could be doing at whatever-o’clock in the morning it is. “make sure you take some with you when you leave. tess said she’s been fighting off a cold the past few days, need you to keep her warm and fed for me.”

would you do the same for him, if you knew he’d been the one to catch that damned cold in the first place? four days of just about coughing up his lungs, and not a single soul- not even his tess- had offered soup, nor warmth, nor sympathy. he’d not needed it, until now, when he hears you gifting it to someone else.

i don’t like you, joel.

of course you would do the same. not because you care, nor because doing otherwise would way heavy on your conscious, but because you’re nice. nice in a way he’ll never be, has never been. patient, welcoming, comforting, warm. all words that spring to mind when one thinks of you. they violently oppose the closed-off, angry, dark cloud that had rolled in years ago and casted it’s shadow over joel’s entire persona.

he straightens his back, weight shifting from one foot to another as he contemplates you from behind. the sway of your dress as you move has him in a trance, beckoning him closer before he can even realise he’s taken a step. his hands drip water onto the floor in a rhythm, and the record player sings in the distance as a reminder of tess, and your sweet out-of-tune humming fills the empty kitchen with a brightness greater than the moon, but that’s not what joel hears.

i don’t like you, joel.

over and over, you taunt him without even trying, nailing the words into his head and heart, impaling him with your sweet condemnation. you’re not the first to say it, to his face or otherwise, yet you’re the first to evoke such a reaction out of him, to leave a lasting impression hours after you’d declared such a thing.

and, suddenly, joel’s angry. at you, at himself, at the sound of that damned knife in your hand slicing down onto the chopping board. the fog of his ire blurs his vision, rendering him to move blindly through the night.

only when he finds himself looming over you from behind does his vision clear.

a hand meets the curve of your hip and you gasp, leaving joel to wonder if it’s because the shock of his cold, damp touch or, simply, because it’s his touch. without a thought spared, he firms his grip, fingers squeezing tight enough he feels your flesh bulge between each one, a bruising promise joel gifts you.

you may leave your marks emotionally, but joel’s will always be physical.

“why,” he pulls in a breath, loading up the will to keep his voice a low rumble, a quiet disturbance in the night for no ears but your own to hear. “don’t ya like me?”

if not for the pause in your practiced movements, knife stilling midway through slicing a carrot, he’d believe you’re unaffected by his proximity. “why do you care?”

he scoffs, “i don’t.”

“hmm,” this hum is far less delightful than the way you’d been following along to whatever melody tess was playing in the living room. “sure sounds like you do.”

“yeah, well, i don’t,” he insists, and he swears he almost feels the way it only digs deeper the hole he’s created for himself.

joel knows he cares. it’s been burning at his skin and itching on his mind since the moment you’d welcomed yourself to a little bit of unfiltered honesty, dropping the perfectly poised and eternally polite mask you’d worn since the moment he’d first met you, an attitude he loathes as much as he anticipates surrounding himself with it each time he’s tugged along for the trek to bill and frank’s.

what joel doesn’t know is why he cares. there’s nothing to be desired about him, no traits to respect and certainly no looks to admire. he’s near crafted his entire being in a way that makes sure of this, the more undesirable his presence is, the less likely he is to be approached, be it by other people or fate itself.

maybe there was a part of him that had wrongfully imagined you being the exception.

instead, you’re stood barefoot in the latest of hours, knife working away the vegetables in front of you, dress sticking to skin beneath his damp hand, and you don’t like him.

not one bit.

joel grabs at your hips harder, his free hand curling round the shape of your left forearm. his feet shuffle forwards, until there comes a point where one would struggle to make out where you end and he begins. his chest pressed to your back, his muscular legs trapping your soft thighs, his forehead digging into the side of your head so intensely it threatens to shatter both your craniums and leave nothing but dust made by bones blown into smithereens.

he inhales, and finds you don’t smell of lavender.

“for the record,” he watches your movements over your shoulder, entranced with the back and forth sawing of the knife through unidentified vegetables. ‘s like how i sliced that raider’s throat, he thinks, and instantly regrets it. no part of him should ever be compared to you. “i don’t like ya either.”

he’s lying through his teeth, hoping you don’t notice.

the knife never ceases its movement. back and forth, back and forth. chop, chop, chop. blurs of greens, and oranges, and more greens cover the counter before you. it’s oddly soothing, this repeated and unbroken pattern, reminding joel of times he’d found comfort in the mundaneness of cooking a meal after an emotionally exhausting day. perhaps, this has the same affect on you, a momentary lifejacket to keep yourself afloat amongst the waves that haunt you awake.

the hand on your forearm travels, mind of its own, drawing up the shape of your shoulder with featherlight touches that contradict the way his nails dig deeper into the the skin you hide beneath the waistline of your dress.

“that’s not news,” you must think he’s blind to the hitch in your breath when his fingers slip over your pulse-point.

it’s his turn to respond with a hum.

“you only like yourself,” words more untrue have never been spoken before the man who’s every moment is spent drowning in his loses. his wandering touch halts. “a little selfish, if you ask me. but, that’s just what i think.”

this strikes a nerve. fury commands his hand into a fist and fingers find themselves tangled in the tresses of your hair. the realisation of how surprisingly soft it feels barely finishes registering when he’s pulling on it, dragging your head along with, till it lays flat on his puffing chest and your eyes stare up at him. “d’ya know what i think?”

even upside down, your beauty is striking.

“no, unlike you i don’t care what you think about-” joel tugs on your hair once more.

“i think you’re a brat. a silly little girl who thinks she can smile and get away with murder.” you could. he’d forgive you as you soak your hands in the blood you draw from him. knife in the heart, bullet through the brain, bat to the face, he’d slip away easily from this life if only to have you smile as he goes.

“you’re hurting me,” you whine, joel growls.

animalistic, beastly, a rabid animal sinking its claws into its defenceless prey. his gaze dances over your features, catching himself before he can sink deep into your captivating eyes, tracing the shape of your mouth, slipping down the peaks of your collarbones.

your dress- red, a colour joel miller will no longer associate with bleeding wounds and stained weapons- sits tight on your chest, squeezing the swell of your chest beneath the fabric, and gives away all your secrets.

“you like it,” he speaks in awe, unable to pull his eyes off the two stiff buds that poke against the red fabric.

“no, i don’-” dampness follows wherever his hand goes, fleeting as he makes the journey around your waist and up your side, crawling higher and higher to where he can feel your heart beating from within your chest. “joel.”

he retightens his grip on your hair, aiding you with the way your curve your spine and force yourself deeper into his uncaring, ungentle, enamoured touch. whoever joel had been in a past life must have moved mountains or performed miracles to grant him the luck to be holding you this way, the fingers he’d gifted with nothing but the cocking of guns and the feel of his own pulsating lust now expertly tweaking at one of your stiff nipples, all thoughts of the fabric scratching at your sensitive skin dissipating into the abyss as he realises you’re enjoying the pain.

“heard ya, earlier, in the living room,” at the time, he’d been mortified to be overhearing such intimate words between you and tess. the blood that insists on rushing to his crotch now wants you to know, to hear the admission of guilt be spoken from his own mouth. “ talkin’ bout your past.”

he doesn’t specify.

he doesn’t need to.

you give away your shock with parted lips, widened eyes, frozen eyelashes, pupils staring up at him like a wounded fawn he’s about to take his first bite out of and, hopefully, it won’t be the last one.

“tess turned you down,” the hand on your chest switches sides, donning your other breast with some much needed attention. his hand must still carry residue of the water, for you gasp and shut your eyes in the shock of his touch, your own fingers shooting up to scratch at his wrist. near convinced you mean to push him away, the pressure against his hand that pushes deeper into his unholy affection has him realising otherwise. “i wouldn’t.”

you say nothing. joel pulls harder.

“too bad i’m-” you cut yourself off as he presses himself closer to you, your poor hips bound to awaken with bruises from the counter he’s got you pressed against. with a distance so small he can hear your teeth grind, joel watches you like a hawk. the twitch in your brow, the flutter of your eyelids, the bobbing of your throat as you silence what he imagines would be an otherworldly kind of moan, a whine he’d let kiss his ears and wind up poisoning himself with the torture of it replaying in his head each waking moment till he kicks the bucket, once and for all. the want to see you fall apart evolves into a need. “too bad i’m not offering you the chance.”

joel miller is a hot blooded man, at his core, weak to emotions and vulnerable to the warmths of flesh. with notches on his bedpost and a tally of lives beneath his belt, he sees little wrong with taking what he needs.

“who said anything about an offer?”

the descent to the floor is far from graceful, with bitten back groans of pain as clicking noises resound throughout the room while his joints bend and break in an effort to get him where he needs to be, where he’s needed to be for far longer than merely this exchange on kitchen grounds: on his knees for you.

a part of him would prefer it if you weren’t wielding a butchers knife.

the other part wishes you were facing him, eyes full of that repressed anger, hatred and discontent you likely harbour for him as you point the blade down at him and threaten to paint the floors with his blood. you’ve yet to do that, and so he takes it as his queue to progress.

smoothing his hands up your legs, he admires the landscapes of your body from this angle, with legs longer than any tree in the amazonian jungle and curves with peaks that resemble the mountains of the himalayas. arriving at the top of your knees, the hem of your dress both welcomes and conceals his touch, inviting him into the wonderful world it hides beneath it yet denying him the privilege of feasting his eyes on your paradise, an island of safety amongst the open ocean of his mind.

your breathing is measured, precise, too rhythmical to be natural, the subconscious action now turned into a practiced routine you mean to maintain nonchalance with. perhaps you’re yet to realise that, while he may remain indifferent to those that surround him, joel knows how to read people. and, right now, you’re a whole novel of lust, awaiting for someone to open up your pages and drink in every lyrical prose you promise to tell.

joel finds purchase mid-way up your thighs, hands sliding around to the front of them to grip the buttery smooth skin and ground himself in the reality he kneels before.

you breathe in, you breathe out.

one knee buckles, ever so slightly, the weight of you collapsing into his welcoming hold. he revels in the feeling of supporting you, in every meaning of the word, thumbs not even waiting on a command from his consciousness to begin soothing your tingling skin with a gentle back and forth movement to match the knife in your hand.

inhale, exhale.

your legs straighten once more, a hand of his winds its way back out from under your skirt and shoots up to grab your free one, dragging it down his pits of desire.

“hold,” he’s parched all over again, mouth drier than the texan wastelands on a hot summer’s day. all he can do to survive is peel up that infuriatingly soft, red fabric of your dress, skin unveiling itself to his hunger struck eyes. with the skirt bunched up, he shoves it into your awaiting palms, pinning your hand against your own waist. “don’t move.”

where he expects protest, he receives more breathing.

lace covers your skin, a delicate shade of a colour his eyes can’t quite distinguish in the dark of the night. one flicker of his sight to the very core of your body and he notices it, that tell-tale sign that you’re enjoying this little display of attention, despite what your measured breaths may have him believe. a wet patch, your wetness. the stickiest, sweetest of honeys that only a woman like you can possess, and a man like him should never bare himself witness to.

curiosity gets the better of him- one day, joel hopes, this will get him killed- and his touch is reaching for the lacy fabric, fingers curling themselves in the waistband of your panties and the fabric that covers your right asscheek before curling his hand into a fist, tugging upwards.

in and out, shaky breathing comes from above.

the lace pulls tight on your delicate skin, no choice but to nestle itself in the slit of your cunt as two pretty soaked lips peak out from each side. a heady smell he can only begin to describe as stiflingly sweet, tongue-tingling tanginess hits his nose. he makes sure to take a deep breath, letting the blood rush straight to his head- the one that sits packed uncomfortably in his tightened trousers.

delectable as sin, you keen back into his fist, back curving ever so slightly. there’s a tremor in the hold you have on the fabric of your dress. joel basks in the visual affect he’s beginning to have on you, no need to doubt if the fabric of your underwear rubs at your likely aching clit. he wonders if the sting of the lace digging into your skin hurts. he thinks it must hurt.

his fist curls tighter, pulls higher.

“ah,” at last, a ripple in your surface. though you still wield a knife, the carrot you’d been failing to chop rolls off the counter and onto the floor, lost somewhere in joel’s peripheral vision.

“shut up,” he grunts, like it doesn’t make his balls throb to hear you whine. “people are tryin’ to sleep.”

you scoff, and for a moment you seem to have rediscovered your composure. “tess is drunk as a sailor, and the old men could sleep through nuclear warfare.”

“‘s that an invitation to see how loud i can get ya,” he’s still caught in the way you mold against the lace, slickened skin carrying a reflection of the moonlight. this, he thinks, is what all them poets were writing about in their prose of love and beauty. “or a challenge?”

“it’s an invitation to stop lecturing me on volume control,-” you catch yourself, he realises, right before you can gift him some nickname a sweet girl like you would never use. asshole, dickhead, bastard, he’s heard them all and, still, he wants them on your tongue, in his mouth, condemning him for all the brutish, oafish ways he masks his obsession for you.

as coquettish as it may be, painting a picture worthy of a front-page on some playboy magazine, the sight of lace becomes a nuisance he no longer holds the patience for. so he strips you of it, hand moving to pull the garment down, down, down the length of you, till it hits your ankles. he awaits no movement of your own, taking it upon himself to lift each of your feet individually out the leg-holes.

it’s merely impulse that has him shoving the soiled lace into his back pocket, though he’s sure he’ll make use of them on lonely nights.

“you’re drippin’” his proclamation is ego-driven, pride swelling in his chest as he takes in the full sight of your bare heat. the view is a little obscured from behind you, but with the right amount of tilting of your hips at a certain angle and the widening of your legs, he’s bound to sit front row and centre for your private show. “‘s actually a little pathetic, sweetheart. is it cause ya like it when men get mean wit’ ya?”

he can imagine the way you’d roll your eyes at his words, and it has him thinking about how you’d look with your eyes rolling back for different reasons, reasons he’s about to gift you.

but first, he curls one hand around your ankle and tugs the limb along as far as he wants it. much better, he now faces no blockage in the path up to your slit, freely letting his wandering hands ascend to his newfound heaven. perhaps he’ll revisit the life of gospel, if you promise to be the altar he prays before.

cool fingers to warm skin, you swallow a gasp a little too late for joel to not notice as he drags the tips of his middle finger up the length of your slit. soft, puffy lips part for him, until he presses against that special button that’s bound to turn on your engines.

rolling his finger over your clit a few times, he refamiliarises himself with the female anatomy, with your anatomy, memorising each soft bump and meaty lump he finds along the way.

it happens so sudden, and unwillingly, the way his mind switches to thinking of tess. he wonders what exactly it is she does to those poor things she sends home on shaky legs, where she even begins to touch them. joel imagines she makes use of what she has and starts with her fingers.

so he does the same.

working over your slippery wetness, he coats the tip of his middle finger with it, till he finds what he’s been searching for: the gateways to your heaven, your entrance. he breaches your walls with that single digit and somehow that’s enough to have you squeezing around him so tightly he wonders if blood still manages to flow to his digit.

two, three, four pumps of his hand and he’s introducing his pointer finger too, pressing them both into you to witness the ways you mould around this wider stretch, the lips of your cunt a pair of cushions his knuckles collide against each time he fucks his fingers in.

“so now you shut up. ‘s the matter, huh?” he’s contradicting himself and he doesn’t even care, too busy focusing on curling his fingers inside you, delighting in the feel of that spongy tissue they press against. “am i too borin’ for ya?”

“you’re the most infuriating man i’ve ever- oh!”

a tongue meets skin.

the knife clatters onto the counter.

you lurch forward.

his hand pulls you back.

“tess was right, ya know?” he can still taste you on his tongue, nothing more than a simple lick over your slit and your salty pleasure already seeps deep into his veins, staining his very being with the memory of his new favourite flavour. he pulls his fingers out, slipping them up to your clit. three little taps to the pulsing bud- tap, tap, tap- and he’s slipping them into his mouth, tongue working overtime to clean up every last drop of you that coats him. “that boy of yours wasn’t doin’ ya right.”

the common sense that screams at him to not feel envy over some ex-lover, someone who was likely barely even an adult at the time and no longer appears to be around, is no match for the green eyed beast that commands him to tell you, without using words, that he can do better- touch you better, protect you better, fuck you better, if you’d just let him.

‘could keep ya satisfied.

that’s a new thought, one he’s never needed before yet never wanted more, a burning ache to be worthy of your trust, affection, lust. he’ll never forget the first time he thinks it, mouth salivating at the sight of you.

“is this the part you say some cheesy line straight out a porno? what ya need is a man, a man like me!” the softness of your giggle is still sharp enough to cut through the tension, god it’s never sounded sweet, and joel finds himself freely smiling into the darkness, yet still too stubborn to laugh at the deep voice you attempt to imitate him with.

“well, was you who said it,” his mouth finds it’s way back onto your soaked heat, taking his time to work his tongue up the length of it, his saliva mixing itself in a nasty cocktail with your wetness. he imagines the air is cold against your skin, and that you like it, memory of those hardened nipples hidden beneath the fabric of your dress. “but if ya insist.”

diving in head first had always been his style, from his first lover to his last, and to now, knees aching on the kitchen floor. the tip of his tongue dances round your clit, tantalising you to grind your hips to the rhythm of his sinful touches.

licking into you, he’s reminded how much he enjoys that swelling in the chest that only comes from bringing another pleasure.

he’d not been a perfect lover, far from it, but he’d liked to believe at one point he’d been trained by only experience that comes with age, years of touching wrong and kissing badly to learn the right ways to make those he shared a bed- or a counter, or a backseat, or a club bathroom- with see angelic white as they writhed and squirmed under his touch. you’re lucky to have him now, matured by past lovers and broadened by age, with all the knowledge he needs to open your eyes to how a man pleasures, kisses, loves.

he’s out of practice, sure, with recent years adding notches to his belt that were merely frantic, unexpected, barely undressed run-ins with strangers, in strange places, cock barely getting a moments affection before he’d be spilling his seed and tucking it, limp, back into the confines of his trousers and locking it away beneath a zip.

what a perfect excuse you are, for joel to remaster the arts of lust.

it’s messy, wet dripping down his chin and staining itself into the stubble of his growing facial hair. it’s noisy, his mouth openly groaning depraved joy into your warmth as you sing him a song of sweet euphoria, slowly building towards that crescendo on the horizon. it’s animalistic, barely human as he revokes all earthly needs such as rest, and food, and socialising, his mind, and soul, and heart, and cock all screaming in unison to spend whatever days he shall possess on his knees before you.

and all the while you writhe and wriggle, some times running away from him touch, other times rutting so far back into him that you threaten to suffocate him somewhere between your warm thighs, and sugar sweet cunt, and the two well-rounded globes of your ass.

his only saving grace is that he can’t see you.

hearing your pretty whines, and hand-muffled moans, and heavy intakes of breath is enough to curse him for the rest of his waking days, condemned to wander the wastelands of earth knowing the noises you make on the brinks of pleasure, with a touch-starved man satiating his hunger for flesh and blood with the sugary sins of your soaked cunt.

burrowing deeper into you, his consciousness rips through the fog of his lust to curse out his perversions as the tip of his hooked nose bumps against the puckered entrance of your ass. it does nothing to stop him tearing his tongue away from your clit, flattened as he drags it over the expanse of your cunt, and over your taint, and up the crack of your behind.

“n- ah,” you can’t deny him while sounding so eager for more, the tip of his tongue now circling your back entrance, mimicking the treatment previously given to your little pearl. “no, don’t, not there.”

next time, he thinks, we’ll try that next time.

sights returned to his previous desires, he works to rip every sigh, and every whine, and every dirty little song you’ll grace him with. the sound of whatever record tess has put on in the other room becomes a safety blanket, dousing you both in the warm protection of not being overheard.

and, then, he does it, he makes the ultimate mistake.

his eyes flicker to the left and he finds himself faced with the stove that sits within bill and frank’s- and, by an extension he does not enjoy to remember, your- kitchen. there’s little that’s remarkable about the appliance, just your standard, everyday oven that he’s sure you’ve spent countless hours cooking up those comforting meals he’s come to anticipate each time tess tells him they’re due a visit.

except, the oven door is made of glass.

glass which now paints the most pornographic masterpiece for no eyes but his own. you, with hands gripping the island’s counter like your life depends on it, and the skirt of that goddamn dress he’s envied all evening for the way it got to rest against the warmth of your thighs now bunched up in your tight grip, and your head thrown back, curving your spine in a way that has him wondering about the other ways he’d be able to bend and break you beneath his touch.

and then there’s him, down on his knees like a devotee laying himself down to worship his goddess, face burrowed in the space between your legs, mouth devouring you from behind with the help of his hands, the same ones that had strangled a man less than a day before and reigned fire down on countless others for years, that now grip the meat of your thighs to pull you back onto him, fucking his tongue into your sopping heat.

the image will haunt him more than the face of any man he’s killed.

“d’ya touch yourself, sol?” you don’t answer him, but that’s okay. in a sweet change of pace, joel miller’s perfectly fine with talking enough for the both of you. “yeah, bet ya do. late at night, right? once you’re all alone in bed. ya seem like the kind who can make herself scream.”

you back into him, smothering him under the weigh of your body. becoming his holy grail, he drinks from you like it’s the key to eternal life, and what a way of living this would be, time disregarded as nothing but meaningless while your bodies melt together in the heat of passion.

fucking his fingers back inside, he becomes frantic beneath the need to make you cry, fall completely apart with only his hands to hold you together. “let me do the honours this time though.”

you don’t scream, can’t scream, hand over mouth muffling whatever profanities and theatrical proclamations he rips from within you with the stroke of his agile tongue, the only muscle of his that’s yet to develop aches and pains. he imagines that will no longer ring true once he awakens past sunrise.

he’s unsure how much longer he works his tongue over you, slipping and sliding through the liquid pleasure, but it ends with fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him away and tilting his head up.

you’ve never looked more holy, moon casting it’s shine around you, eyes glossed with unshed tears, lips parted and swollen from the pressure your own teeth had bitten down on them with. your expression, he can’t quite read. not sad, not happy, not mad.

your eyes catch on something, abandoning his own for something closer to the floor, to which he follows and finds exactly what you’re staring at: the evidently dark patch that now stains the front of his jeans.

the discomfort of trekking back to the qz will now be tenfolds worse in the stains of his own pleasure.

“joel...” his name is nearly a beg, a prayer, an invitation. hand still in his hair, you tug, pulling him upwards off the ground. legs open wider and back arches deeper, a seductive sight that your body pleas for him with.

he swallows a groan, knees alleviated at last from the floor, and presses himself against you once more. strong arms crush you in an embrace, pulling you back into him as his head slips to rest against your shoulder. he’s capricious with the way he lets himself litter a few wet kisses over your neck, breathing in the smell of you.

“that,” you grind back into him, a torturer who takes his aged body as her victim and toys with his barely recovered cock, the cum in his trousers sticking uncomfortably to his skin. he pulls tighter on your body, grounding himself in the weight of it against his own to find the sanity to finish his sentence. “shouldn’t have happened.”

joel hopes no one awakens as he slams the door on the way out of the kitchen.

people once spoke of how the only certainties in life were death and taxes but, nowadays, the words don’t ring as true and the guarantee of life with taxes has morphed into something else entirely; a reality where death and time go hand in hand. as sure as tomorrow will arrive, death will come too, eventually. not today, however, and joel miller finds himself stood throwing a ball back and forth for a dog.

it chases and retrieves, trailing it’s happy self all the way back to him only to spit the ball down at his feet, siting and waiting to repeat the process once more. there’d been a time where this is all he’d wanted: white picket fence, dog in the yard, home-cooked meals filling a house with warmth.

that dream seems so far away now, even as he stands within it.

he cracks his back, huffing out a groan. “no, not again. my back’s fucked as it is, buddy,” with no one around to witness, joel lets himself crouch down onto his knees- both popping obnoxiously as he does so- and rakes his hand over the german shepherd’s head. it whines and makes an attempt to nudge the ball against him, protesting in the only way it can. a scratch to the ear does the trick to distract the animal, to which it tilts its head and forces itself deeper into his blunt nails. “not so bad, are ya? huh?” never in a million years did joel think he’d be talking to a dog when him and tess had set out for their routinely visit to the bill and frank’s. never would he have thought that would be the least shocking event to unfold on this trip.

he hears you before he sees you.

“you planning to make your knees familiar with every surface of this place, texas?”

he tries to rise, he truly does, but the four-legged foe he’d been petting mere seconds ago betrays him the instant it catches sight of you, charging past him and knocking him over in the process, ass to floor and head to sky.

the world above is a storm of greys, clouds swallowing one another with a looming threat of danger on the horizon and not a lick of the sun’s warmth seems to make its way through.

so instead, it sends you.

peering over him from above, hair a tangled mess, eyes a wreck of under-bags and sleepless tears, the collar of your jumper lowered just enough at this angle that he can see a tease of cleavage, you radiate a brightness like no other, more dangerous to his naked eyes than uv ray could ever be. he’s squinting again, frown etching itself on his forehead with the threat of becoming permanent soon. a few more years and his face will be nothing but frown lines and crows feet. at the very least, he considers, i’ve survived long enough to wrinkle.

the smile above him is worth a million laugh lines, a kindness laced within it that matches perfectly with the hand you hold out. when he does nothing but stare at it, you wriggle your fingers, enticing him to take a hold. he does most of the work, truthfully, but you play a part in pulling him back to his feet. upright once more, he can’t help but bask in the way he’s able to physically look down on you.

“thanks for tiring him out,” you’re the first to talk. you’re always the first to talk, and he curses you for it. “won’t need to walk him as far tonight.”

a queasy feeling overtakes him at the thought of you walking the dog alone at night, nothing but the moon to light your way. he’ll need to remember to tire the dog out next time he visits. “no problem, thanks... for feeding tess and i.”

“no worries!” you’re so kind, so good, smiling at him with a cheerful chirp in your voice. he can’t wrap his head around how you can bring yourself to treat him this way. “oh, actually, that’s why i came out here, i was looking for tess-” of course you were, when would you ever be looking for him? “hold on!”

you shoot off back inside so quickly that otis just reaches the doorway by the time you return. with an idle pet to his head as you pass by, joel once again sees, in the way such little affection can have the dog so elated, that resemblance between them you’d spoke of. in your hands, you carry an array of containers full of food- soup- each filled to the brim.

“i wanted to give you these, before you guys leave,” you’re explaining yourself, and joel wonders if it’s nerves that bring you to need constant babbling to fill any gaps of silence. he can’t imagine how he could make you nervous and therefore that thought is quick to be discarded. “i know the journey up here and back can be long, consider them a token of my appreciation towards you both for-”

“why don’t ya like me?” he cuts you off.

pathetic, he knows, but he can not stop himself, a deer caught in the headlights of your brightly burning, too-good-to-be-true, too-pure-to-be-fake personality.

you show no signs of hearing him, smile unwavering as you continue to hold out the boxes to him, “there should be enough to last you a few days, if you watch your proportions.”

it’s too much for him to handle- the food, the smiles, the sweetly glistening eyes-, and joel just has to know, needs an answer before the heat of his confusion consumes him entirely in its flames and leaves nothing but his smoking remains.

so he tries again, louder.

“why don’t ya like me?”

“and i’d probably say you’re best to heat it up, especially for tess,” you ignore him, again, lips stretching what can only be described as uncomfortably wider. “winter is sure coming in faster than last year, isn’t it?”

he grabs at your arm, fingers curling round the swell of your bicep as he speaks through gritted teeth, "answer me." like a frightened dog backed into a corner, he bares his teeth and yells his bark.

"for someone who doesn't care,” you try his patience, knowingly or not, and his grip tightens. you don’t flinch, welcoming the sting of his blunt and bitten nails against your flesh. “you sure do talk about my opinion a lot."

"answer the damn question, girl.”

“or, what?” you’ve got him there, he’ll admit, holding no real plan as to how to punish your silence. “you gonna give me the same treatment as last night?”

had he known you’d be so unabashed to mention the events on the kitchen floor so flippantly, as casually as one would speak about the weather, he’d never have dared to get on his knees. truthfully, he’d not given things a second thought, disregarding the later for the now, living in the moment with caution thrown to the wind over what the morning would bring. perhaps he’d hoped you’d been intoxicated enough to dismiss the memory as a nightmare, maybe he’d wished you’d keep away from him to free him of the volatile grip you have on his soul.

instead, you stand tall, proud, eyes fiercely staring back at his own as you challenge him to retaliate, mock you with none of those saccharine smiles you hide harsh tones behind.

joel says nothing.

“how about this, let’s make a deal, like the ones you and bill make.” inching closer, crowding in on his space and forcing him to take note of the smell of freshly cleaned clothes mixed in with your own fragrance. clean, warm, inviting, scents he’d never given meaning to before now. “you get me something, i’ll tell you what you want to know.”

he grunts out a response, hands meeting his hips as he juts out one knee, the shifting of weight between feet a perfect distraction to the rising tension in his worn-out jeans. “what d’ya want? ‘cause if it’s somethin’ like a gun, think again. i ain’t messing with none of bill’s strange politics on you havin’-”

“a dress.”

“a dress?” the statement has him quirking his brow, burning questions swimming in the depths of his eyes as he stares back at you.

“yes, and don’t look at me like that!” it’s hypocritical, he believes, for you to berate him for the looks he sends you when all you do is cast stones his way with your gaze yet shake him to his very core each time you smile. “i need a new one, my favourite one got ruined whilst making soup.”

unaware he’d even began to lean closer, joel’s quick to recoil, as if your words are bullets and his skin the target you hit on the bullseye every time.

“joel!” his name resonates from somewhere in the house.

neither of you dare to break eye contact. again, his name is yelled. this time, he manages to identify tess as the owner of the voice. habits have him used to running to her whenever she calls, but habits have never been caught between the choice of tess or you.

his feet remain glued to the ground.

tess yells once more and, though you speak up, you don’t dare look away. “think you might be needed inside, macho man. your missus is calling.”

“she ain’t my-”

“you two just gonna stand and stare at each other all day, or will you help a woman out already?” tess enters the scene somewhere behind you, a blur of her familiar shape standing out the front door.

only when your head spins and he no longer finds himself lost in the black of your eyes does joel take her in completely, hair clearly damp and complexion a little paled by her hungover body. in her arms, she struggles with the weight of a folded table. you approach first, he follows, his two hands aiding in carrying it out into the front yard as you retighten your grip on the boxes of soup in your arms.

“i should probably,” laying the containers down on the now unfolded table, you fidget with the sleeves in your hands, eyes downcast with something he can only read as guilt. he decides he much prefers the fire they hold when you berate him. “go check on the food, before it burns.”

you’re in the door and out his sight before he can so much as ask you to stay.

tess and him hit the road by noon. earlier than predicted, later than he’d wished for. the bite of cold already marks the air, despite the sun heating the world with its rays. he walks a little ahead, feigning ignorance to the repeated coughing coming from tess and racking his brain for answers.

answers to why he’d never noticed how hoarse she’d been sounding till you pointed it out. answers to what awaited them both upon returning to the qz. answers to when will be their next chance to visit the safe haven bill’s created. answers to why you don’t like him.

i don’t like you, joel.

it motivates him to walk quicker, faster, racing to put as much distance between himself and that damn kitchen floor, miles upon miles not enough to rid him of the dull ache in his knees that goes hand in hand with the throb within his too-tight-jeans. if he were alone, he’d break out in a sprint. but tess is here, he’s not alone, and home will simply have to wait on the passing of time to drag him back to it.

till then, he needs to find a dress.

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller oneshot #joel miller fic #pedro pascal smut

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trixisbored · 1 month

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Enchanted wings.

james potter x reader (oneshot)

James didn’t know what hit him.

Well, he did actually. It was the bludger that he did not see coming because he was too busy staring at Y/N.

James felt himself slipping off his broom from the sheer force of the bludger, causing everyone watching to gasp in despair, except the Slytherins which they were playing against, they were probably reveling in the way that he was desperately trying to get back on his broom, slipping inch by inch. He looked at the ground in panic. A fall from this height would earn him some broken bones and maybe a whole season without quidditch.

Y/N was watching from the stands of Griffyndor, she had always been a fan of Quidditch since she used to watch it with her family all the time. But since 5th year her interest has been even more piqued because of a certain chaser.

James Potter, the mischievous but golden boy of Gryffindor, always hanging out with his little group, the Marauders. She had started noticing him in 5th grade, she was trying to get her book back from an annoying slytherin boy, until James Potter walked by.

“Hey, leave her alone.” He said, closing in on the boy's face and taking the book from his grasp. James towered over the smaller boy as he ran away. He turned around

“Here!” He had such a cute smile…

Y/N felt a blush rise to her cheeks, she grabbed the book and starting to walk back to class when James grabbed her wrist

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t catch your name? I’m James. James Potter.” Y/N paused surprised,

“Oh, uh. I’m Y/N L/N. And thank you, I didn’t mean to be rude but I’m really late for class.”

“Oh? What have you got right now?” And oh, that smirk.

“Transfiguration, have you got that as well? I noticed you were walking that way?”

“Yeah, I was headed there, but now that you’re here might as well give me some company, don’t you think?” He chuckled, and Y/N nodded as they began walking to class.

And that was that, they formed a kind friendship where Y/N she wanted something more, but she valued her friendship too much to have the possibility to ruin it.

“JAMES!” Y/N shouted from the stands, time seemed to slow down for her as she watched him fall, though on the last second she was brought back to her senses as she cast a levitating spell at his robes hoping that it would break his fall. It worked for a bit but then she heard a sickening crush as James collided with the ground.

“Oh my god…” She ran to the field and saw a crowd of team members surrounding him, she burst through it and saw him with his eyes closed groaning in pain. Y/N kneeled by him and took his face in her hands “James?”

“...Darling?” One of his eyes fluttered open and those gorgeous brown eyes stared back at her

“Yes, it’s me… We’re going to take you to Madam Pomfrey, ok?” She said looking at someone behind her silently asking someone to call the nurse.

“Yeah, I think I need her… ow.” He says trying to sit up

“Lay back down!” She said gently placing him back

The first thing James saw when he woke up was the distinct ceiling of the hospital wing, he felt like he was trampled by a Hippogriff, his left arm was constricted in a cast and he felt some bandages in his legs, but what was weird was the pressure in his right hand, though as he turned to look, what he saw was Y/N napping on his arm.

That did not look comfortable. At all…

“Hey sweetheart.” He whispered gently “Had a good nap?” He grinned

“James! You’re awake!” She says, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes “What happened out there?! I’ve never seen you so distracted in the field before…” She questioned. His eyes softened

“Y/N,” James began, his voice soft yet filled with sincerity, “I need to tell you something. Something I should've said a long time ago.”

He gently lifted her hand from where it rested on his chest, his eyes never leaving hers. “I was distracted out there because of you, I love you, Y/N. You're more than just a friend to me. You're everything.”

He paused, waiting for her reaction, hoping that she felt the same way. “I know I've been a fool for not saying it sooner. Please, tell me you feel it too.”

Y/N's heart swelled with emotion at James's confession. She felt a rush of joy and relief flood through her veins “James,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “I... I love you too. More than you could ever know.” She reached out to cup his cheek tenderly, her fingers tracing the lines of his face as if she couldn't quite believe he was real. “Can I kiss you?”

“You don’t even have to ask.” He smiled as they shared their first kiss.

#james potter #marauders #james potter x reader #james potter fluff #james potter fic #james potter imagine #james potter x you

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peavhyshy · 6 months

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𝗥𝗜𝗣𝗧𝗜𝗗𝗘 (oneshot)

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Adopted!Thornton!Reader

Summary: In which In JJ sneaks into your families mansion after being beaten by his abusive father, and you help patch him up

Warnings: strong language, smut, angst, child abuse, injuries, emotional distress, mention of underage drinking, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (nipple play), dirty talk, and rough sex

Words: 2,535

(not proofread)

Outer Banks Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The moon was high in the sky as JJ crept across the perfectly manicured lawn of the Thornton estate, cursing under his breath with each step as his bruised ribs screamed in protest. He knew the route by heart - shimmy up the trellis, slip through the unlocked window into your room, grab the first aid kit stashed under your bed. This definitely wasn't his first late-night house call.

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair," he whisper-shouted, tapping on the glass.

"Jesus, JJ, you scared the shit out of me!" You whispered as JJ tumbled gracelessly through your open window. "What did you do this time?"

"Oh you know, I forgot to take the trash out so naturally he tried to beat me to death with a whiskey bottle," JJ quipped, collapsing onto your bed.

You sighed, grabbing your well-stocked first aid kit. This had become a routine for them. "Shirt off," you ordered.

"Yes ma'am!" JJ winked, slowly removing his shirt to reveal the ugly bruises blossoming across his torso.

You sighed, exasperated but sympathetic as always. You got to work disinfecting and bandaging JJ's injuries, slapping his hands away when he poked at particularly gnarly gashes.

"Ow! Take it easy Nurse Ratched," JJ grumbled.

"Hey, it's either me or an awkward explanation at the ER," You retorted, pressing an ice pack none-too-gently against JJ's swollen eye.

JJ snorted, then immediately regretted it as pain ricocheted through his ribs. You finished patching him up in silence, then sat beside him on the edge of your bed as you tossed JJ a clean shirt and some sweats from his designated drawer.

He changed quickly and flopped back onto your bed with a contented sigh. "My hero! What would I do without you?"

"Bleed out on my window sill probably," You chuckled, settling in next to him.

It was a sad routine, but you was always glad JJ felt safe coming to you, knowing you’d patch up his physical and emotional wounds without question.

"You know you can't keep doing this, right?" You said quietly.

JJ just shrugged, staring at the floor. You guys had this conversation before.

"I mean it this time. We've gotta figure something out." You put a hand on his shoulder. "Just…promise me you won't go back there tonight?"

JJ nodded reluctantly.

You stared at JJ as he nodded reluctantly, clearly exhausted from yet another violent encounter with his abusive father. You wished more than anything that you could protect him, but JJ was fiercely independent and hated relying on anyone, even you.

"C'mon, let's get you settled in," You said gently, grabbing an extra pillow and blanket from your closet. You fluffed up the pillow and handed it to JJ, who sank into it with a groan.

"Damn Y/N, these 600 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets are straight fire," JJ mumbled into the pillow. "Kook life definitely has its perks."

You chuckled softly as you spread the blanket over him. "I know it's not the hammock at the Chateau, but I hope it's comfy enough."

JJ cracked one eye open and gave you a sleepy grin. "With you here? Anywhere is paradise."

You felt yourself blush, your heart skipping a beat. No matter how many times JJ showed up battered and broken on your doorstep, you could never quite ignore the butterflies his presence awakened.

"Alright Romeo, get some rest," You whispered, clicking off the bedside lamp. You curled up on your side of the bed, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of JJ's chest as he drifted off.

Tomorrow you’d make him talk. He couldn't keep hiding bruises and secrets forever. But for now, JJ was safe. And that was enough.

The next morning, JJ awoke slowly, his wounds from the previous night throbbing dully. He was momentarily disoriented by the soft bed and sunlight streaming through gauzy curtains until he remembered he was in your room. He glanced over and saw you curled up on the window seat, hair mussed and a tiny line of drool dripping down your chin. JJ smiled. Even with dried spit on your face you were still cute as hell.

He considered waking you up but decided to let you sleep. You always mother-henned him; it was kind of nice to see you be the vulnerable one for once. JJ stretched gingerly, wincing as his ribs protested. Well, might as well take advantage of the fancy digs while he could.

JJ quietly snuck out of your room towards the opulent kitchen, grabbing a muffin and some orange juice. Damn, rich people breakfasts hit differently. As he was raiding the fridge for more snacks, he heard light footsteps behind him.

"Well well, if it isn't my favorite charity case."

JJ rolled his eyes before turning around. "Morning Topper," he said through a mouthful of stolen baked goods. Your brother leaned against the doorframe, signature smug grin in place.

"Rough night again at the Maybank estate?" Topper asked, fake sympathy dripping from his voice.

"You know me, just living the dream," JJ deadpanned back.

Topper laughed humorlessly. "Try not to bleed out on the white carpets this time. I had to burn that rug you know, hepatitis risk."

JJ flipped him off good-naturedly and went back to rummaging the fridge, ignoring Topper's bitching. He was used to the verbal jabs by now. And it was a small price to pay for your tender loving care.

You padded quietly to the kitchen and saw JJ. "Morning," you said softly. "How're you feeling?"

JJ attempted his signature cocky grin, though it came out as more of a pained grimace. "Ready for round two, obviously," he joked half-heartedly.

You smiled sadly and sat down beside him. "JJ…" you began tentatively. "We need to talk about what happened. I'm worried about you."

JJ's grin faded, his expression growing shuttered. "You patched me up the same as always, I'll be fine." He avoided your earnest gaze.

"You and I both know this can't continue." Y/N placed a hand on his arm, noting how he flinched almost imperceptibly at your gentle touch.

"Drop it Y/N, I mean it," JJ muttered, a hard edge to his voice as he stared resolutely at the floor.

You acquiesced for the moment, but remained determined. You would get the truth from JJ, one way or another. His safety depended on it.

You sat in silence beside JJ until he finally met your eyes again, his usual carefree demeanor restored.

"So…" he drawled with a mischievous glint in his eye. "How should we spend this lovely truant morning m'lady? I'm thinking of a beach bonfire and beers. Oh, and we gotta stop by the garage and pick up my bike first."

You smiled and shook your head indulgently. "Fine but I'm driving. No operating heavy machinery with a concussion."

JJ grinned and hopped up, wobbling only slightly. "Yes Mom. Now c'mon, the last one to the car is buying snacks!"

You followed JJ into the cavernous garage attached to your family's mansion, filled with luxury cars and boats that cost more than most people's homes. JJ let out an impressed whistle as he strolled past the rows of gleaming vehicles.

"Damn Y/N, I know your family is loaded but this is next level," JJ said, trailing his fingers along the glossy paint job of a candy apple red vintage Corvette. "Your parents must really be raking in the cash to afford all these fancy rides."

You shrugged self-consciously. "I guess when you're constantly trying to one-up the neighbors, you end up with a garage full of absurdly expensive cars you rarely drive."

You grabbed the keys to your sensible Toyota Camry hybrid. JJ made a face.

"Oh come on, we're not taking the freakin' treehugger mobile to the beach bonfire," he complained. "Let's take the 'Vette! Or the Range Rover. Ooh what about the Jag?" JJ darted around excitedly, peering through tinted windows.

"Yeah, because that wouldn't draw any attention, me rolling up to the beach in a $150,000 sports car," You replied sarcastically.

JJ pouted dramatically. "You never let me have any fun."

You rolled your eyes and tugged on his arm. "You can pick the music at least. And I'll stop for beer and snacks on the way."

"Deal!" JJ's eyes lit up. He slid into the passenger seat of your Camry, immediately plugging his phone into the stereo. Loud rock music began blasting through the speakers.

You laughed and shook your head indulgently. You couldn't resist JJ's childlike enthusiasm. And you had to admit, it was nice to see him acting carefree instead of battered and brooding.

Maybe a relaxing day at the beach was just what they needed. Maybe you could try again to get JJ to open up later. For now, you cranked up the music and sang along loudly as you drove towards paradise by the sea.

As the bonfire dwindled on the beach, you and JJ stumbled your way back to your place, leaning on each other in your drunken haze. Laughter filled the night as JJ tripped over his own shoelaces, causing both of you to collapse onto the sand.

"Y/N, you know I lo-" he slurred, interrupted by a fit of giggles. Rolling your eyes, you grinned and helped him brush off the sand from his jeans.

Back in your room, the drunken haze intensified, illuminated by the soft glow of fairy lights that framed JJ's half-lidded blue eyes and tousled blond hair. His gaze roamed over your body, fixating on the neckline of your crop top, his lips moist as he licked them.

Struggling with the button of his jeans, JJ muttered a string of curses under his breath, his efforts finally paying off with a satisfying click. The denim pooled around his ankles, hitting the floor with a thud.

You approached him, a mischievous giggle escaping your lips as he clumsily kicked off the jeans. His hands fumbled with your jeans, struggling to undo them. Never one to back down from a challenge, you bit your lip and palmed his bulging arousal through his boxers, effectively distracting him.

With a groan, he managed to push his boxers down, his hard cock springing free, droplets of pre-cum glistening on the tip. The sight of his vulnerability, his readiness for you, stirred wetness to pool between your thighs. The tantalizing ache began to grow, a desperate craving for him consuming your thoughts. You wanted him more than you wanted air.

Discarding your jeans and panties, you climbed onto the bed, straddling his lap. JJ's eyes widened at the sight of you completely exposed, the raw desire in his gaze making you feel irresistibly sexy.

Running your hands up your stomach, you cupped your own breasts through your top, releasing a moan when his eager hands replaced yours, freeing them completely.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're a damn goddess," he slurred, leaning forward to capture your hardened nipple with his mouth. You murmured appreciatively, your fingers tangling in his messy hair.

His hands grew impatient on the bare skin of your ass, his fingers digging into the flesh, fueling your growing arousal. Shifting slightly, you gave him a better view of your drenched core, making him moan around your nipple.

His fingers danced along your slick folds, causing you to arch your back and gasp at the electrifying touch. Waves of pleasure cascaded through your body, radiating from the tightened skin around your nipples. You rocked yourself against his fingers, aching for more.

His eyes burned with lust as he watched you ride his fingers. Parting your folds with a languid stroke, he eased a finger into your tight heat. The sensation of being filled was intoxicating, your wetness coating his fingers as he pumped slowly, each brush against your clit amplifying your need for him.

Breathing heavily, you whispered, "Fuck, JJ... more." You craved his entirety, every inch of him.

Without hesitation, JJ aligned his throbbing cock with your entrance. Both of you gasped as the head of his cock brushed against your clit, mixing his pre-cum with your own arousal. Slowly, you lowered yourself onto his length, relishing the exquisite stretch that made you fall forward, bracing your palms against his chest.

Digging your nails into his flesh, you ground against him, the smooth glide of your scorching core over his throbbing cock leaving him breathless. Moaning uncontrollably against his ear, you bucked against him, establishing a torturous rhythm that had both of you teetering on the precipice of ecstasy.

"Damn, Y/N... you feel so fucking perfect wrapped around me," he grunted, his fingers leaving marks on your hips as he matched your movements.

"You fill me so fucking good, JJ," you growled into his neck, each forceful thrust hitting your g-spot and sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. The mounting pressure coiled low in your stomach, intensifying with every powerful thrust.

Your moans transformed into desperate curses, the rough and rapid movements pushing you perilously close to the edge of climax. As JJ drove into you, his teeth nibbled at your nipples, his fingers pinched and pulled. The dual sensations sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, building towards an explosive release.

The early morning light seeped through the gaps in the heavy, velvet curtains, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. The scent of ocean salt, mingling with the lingering notes of last night's bonfire, permeated the air. JJ, with his tousled blonde hair and sleep-filled eyes, groggily awoke on the luxurious king-sized bed, the silk sheets tangling around his legs. He looked down, seeing his clothes scattered haphazardly across the polished oak floor, a smirk forming on his lips as memories of the previous night flooded back.

Suddenly, a soft giggle drew his attention to the other side of the bed where you lay, your hair spread out on the pillow like a halo, your eyes sparkling with mischief. You were wrapped up in a plush, pink robe, looking every bit the princess of your own castle. Seeing JJ awake, your giggles turned into full-blown laughter.

"What's so funny, Thornton?" JJ asked, his voice rough from sleep and last night's indulgences.

"Your face," You replied, pointing a finger at his forehead. "You've got a mark from my 'Princess of OBX' tiara."

Looking into the tall, gilded mirror in the corner of the room, JJ spotted the small, heart-shaped glittery mark on his forehead. Instead of feeling embarrassed, he let out a hearty laugh, the sound echoing through the room. "Well, isn't that fitting?" he quipped back. "JJ the Princess, has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

As laughter filled the room, the tension from your unexpected intimacy dissolved, replaced by your familiar camaraderie. Despite your different worlds you found comfort in your shared sense of humor and friendship. The reality of your actions would eventually need to be addressed, but for that quiet, soft morning, you allowed yourselves to bask in the afterglow of their newfound closeness.

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flowerandblood · 2 months

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The Last Word (Oneshot)

[ canon • Aemond x lady-in-waiting • female ]

[ warnings: angst, humiliation, hard chauvinism, suicide, characters death, a lot of pain, because I felt like it ]

[ description: Being Princess Helaena's lady-in-waiting is her dream come true. However, because of one exchange overheard by the king's second son, Prince Aemond, she may lose everything. The prince gives her conditions she cannot refuse, and she accepts them, not knowing that her life will change forever. This is an Anon Request in which the heroine is flat-chested. ]

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

My other works: Masterlist

____

Being princess Helaena's lady-in-waiting was an honour for her. She was a maiden of great beauty and culture, gentle and warm, often immersed in her own world of musings, unable to maintain relationships with other women.

They did not want to understand her, depending on her favour for purely selfish reasons, because of which they acted in an exemplary manner around her, however, as soon as the princess disappeared from their sight, they commented loudly on her behaviour.

"Did you see that disgusting spider she showed to us lately? I believe she even gave it a name. Poor thing." Murmured one of them, a fair-haired beauty, Lord Lannister's niece. She furrowed her brow at her words, feeling discomfort, shaking her head in disbelief.

"You owe her everything you have. Your position, your wealth, your future marriage. Speak of her with respect." She said coolly, the girl approached her, unhappy with the way she had expressed her opinion, the rest of them remained silent, not wanting to get unnecessarily involved in an argument.

"Who are you to lecture me? You came here, some poor lady from the North whose father probably wallows in the muck around his grey castle every day. You don't even look like a woman, your chest is as flat as a child's, I don't know if even the support of a princess will help you find a man to desire you." She snarled, her golden dress shimmering in the sun hovering high above the Red Keep. She swallowed loudly at her insult, pressing her lips together, feeling the tears of shame burning under her eyelids, not letting them flow.

"I see you like to divert attention from your vices. Unfortunately, outward appearances are of little use when the rot has started on the inside. The fish, as they say, rots from the head." She said calmly, she heard a slap and then felt a painful burning sensation on her cheek, Lady Lannister looked at her with wide eyes, red with rage, the girls around them covered their mouths at the sight of her slapping her.

"How dare you, you… my prince −" She muttered, horrified, bowing quickly, she had to look over her shoulder to notice a tall, black silhouette behind her, the face of Prince Aemond, the king's second son, was stony and cold, he was looking down at them with some kind of disgust that sent shivers down her spine.

She swallowed loudly at the thought that he had heard their entire conversation, including what had been said about his sister.

"I will convey to the princess how devoted her ladies-in-waiting are." He said lowly, impassively, throwing her one cool look, turning tense, wanting to leave.

Lady Lannister cried pleadingly behind him that it had been a misunderstanding, and then threw herself at her, the other girls having to drag her away from her as she became completely enraged.

"You will pay for this." She hissed, but she didn't care, thinking only that it was the wrath of someone else that she feared.

She spent the afternoon in her chamber, tense and terrified at the thought that she would have to return home to her three brothers and four sisters, that she would once again be the youngest, unseen child, one of many of the same grey existence.

She shuddered as she heard a knock on her door, and a moment later a servant appeared inside, looking at her with uncertain, frightened eyes.

"Prince Aemond wants to see you, my lady."

She thought she was going there as if he was about to behead her, guessing what awaited her and that she would surely be informed that, like the rest of the ladies of the court, she was going back to where she had come from.

The door to his chamber opened before her and she stepped inside, noticing his silhouette sitting with his back to her with his legs crossed, he was reading a book without even bestowing a single glance on her, he only spoke to her when they were left alone.

"Tell me exactly what you were discussing." He commanded in a low, impassive voice, turning the page with an impatient, smooth motion.

She lowered her gaze, playing with the fingers of her hands in a nervous gesture, feeling her heart pounding like mad, sweat on her back.

"Lady Lannister mocked the princess for naming her spider. I replied that she should speak of her with more respect." She said in a trembling voice, heard him hum under his breath, still looking at the book, bored.

"What did the other ladies-in-waiting said?" He continued, and she blinked, wondering what to answer.

She didn't want to portray them in a bad light.

"They didn't say anything, because Lady Lannister likes to say ill-considered things." She muttered, trying to defend them in some way, not wanting to be vindictive, though part of her mind opted for her to take the opportunity.

"The fish rots from the head." He murmured, and she felt a squeeze in her throat, an all-consuming shame spread through her body at the thought of him hearing this exchange of words.

Gods, what a humiliation, she thought with tears in her eyes.

She did not reply.

She shuddered as he stood up and moved towards her, looking at him with big eyes, surprised, it seemed to her that he was even taller than she had always assumed, watching him from afar.

"Am I to believe that you happen to be the only person who defended my sister?" He asked with a note of mockery and impatience from which she felt a stab of pain in her heart, the fact that he thought she was saying all this out of vanity.

"That is not what I said. You are changing the meaning of my words, my prince." She replied without thinking and lowered her gaze, feeling his whole body tense up after her insolent statement, which could cost her everything.

"You think men desire women who don't know when to be silent?" He hissed, she didn't dare look at him, however, she decided that since all was lost anyway, she wouldn't leave his question unanswered.

"I think men desire what they desire. There's no great philosophy behind it." She replied, and he snorted, as if he didn't believe she still had the courage to speak.

"Do you think men are mere animals, my lady?" He asked with a sneer; she pressed her lips together, frustrated that he was still using her words in a context that did not at all follow from what she had actually said.

"I think this discussion is fruitless. If you wish to send me away, my prince, please do so, just let me bid the princess farewell and express how sorry I am for what has happened and what you have unfortunately witnessed." She said feeling that she had lost patience, tired and resigned, imagining in the back of her mind her return home.

"Just a moment ago you were the one accusing me of not understanding the meaning of your words." He said disapprovingly, and she looked at him surprised, seeing that he had turned away, walking back towards his chair, sitting down on it with a loud creak of wood.

"You stay. You will be my eyes and ears. If any of the ladies who surround my sister speak that way about her behind her back or do other things unworthy of their position, you will report it to me." He ordered coolly, and she swallowed loudly, shocked.

"Do you have anything else to convey to me?" He asked impatiently, looking over his shoulder at her, and she shook her head quickly.

"No, my prince."

"You may leave."

She nodded, wanting to leave his chamber immediately, but stopped in mid-step, feeling her heart pounding fast, wondering if she should do this.

She swallowed hard, turning back, hearing that she had not left his quarters he threw her a frustrated, sharp look.

"Prince Aegon." She started, but he only tightened his lips.

"No."

She grunted quietly and bowed to him, opening the door and stepping out into the corridor, thinking with pain and disappointment that she had at least tried.

She could not count the number of times she had witnessed Princess Helaena's husband entertaining himself with servants, even flirting with the ladies of the court, avoiding her for obvious reasons.

She looked like a child.

Lady Lannister was stripped of her position, which she accepted with satisfaction, the other girls knowing that Prince Aemond stopped her once in a while to speak to her began to fear her, thinking apparently that she had become his mistress.

"How is my sister?" He asked her one day as she was just passing through the courtyard when he was training with Ser Criston Cole, seeing her he ordered a break and approached her, resting his hands on the hilt of his sword stuck in the ground.

She sighed heavily, covering herself more tightly with the thin blue cloak she was wearing.

"She sleeps badly. Prince Aegon wakes her up at night when he comes back drunk from…. we must then lead him to his chamber, and she is restless until morning." She said tiredly, knowing that, as usual, she had been lecturing him about how his brother had a bad influence on her and was the cause of her unhappiness, and that, like always, he would do nothing about it.

She saw him lick his lips in a sign of impatience, looking to the side.

"Anything else?"

"No."

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, his nostrils quivering, she knew her attitude and form of expression devoid of courtesy frustrated him.

He swallowed loudly and pressed his lips together as if he wanted to say something else, shifting from foot to foot, an awkward silence fell between them.

"If I were her husband, I would make sure that she could at least feel safe. My current role ties my hands." He replied after a moment, and she lowered her gaze, feeling a squeeze in her heart at the thought that he had just confided in her. She nodded with sympathy, thinking that his words spoke well of him.

"I know. You are a man of honour. I also regret that such an injustice has befallen her, my prince. She has been deprived of the good husband she deserves." She said looking at him, wanting him to know that she understood his pain, something changed in his face, in his gaze flashed something like surprise and pain.

He nodded, letting her know that he had nothing more to convey to her, and turned back towards Criston Cole.

She moved ahead, thinking that she truly respected him as a man.

However, a few months later, something happened that changed their lives forever.

Prince Aemond returned from Storm's End along with the word that he had murdered his nephew.

A great war broke out, Princess Helaena's son was murdered, her husband suffered great wounds in the battle, and their younger brother flew to Harrenhal only to find that the stronghold was empty and to give his life to the woman everyone believed to be a witch, into whom he had put his bastard child.

Long months passed before she saw him again, a servant entered her chamber late in the evening as she was already preparing for sleep, informing her that Prince Aemond had arrived at the keep and demanded her presence.

She hurriedly put on her robe, covering her nightgown, without even having time to tie up her hair, and headed for his chamber. As she stepped inside she felt a squeeze in her throat when she saw his familiar silhouette sitting as usual in a chair right next to the fire, gazing into the flames, even though they had spoken many times, he now frightened her more than ever before.

"Has her condition improved in any way?" He asked coolly, looking at her only after a moment, she saw something similar to surprise flash across his face when he saw what she looked like, a glimpse of his healthy eye sweeping over her figure.

She swallowed hard, looking down at her hands, feeling the rapid pounding of her heart.

It was getting worse.

"No." She whispered, and heard him sigh heavily, burying his face in his hand, tired and defeated.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, not hearing any further questions or his words that she should leave, she didn't know what she should do with herself so she stood still, looking around his chamber anxiously. An idea suddenly occurred to her and she licked her lips quickly, deciding that perhaps she should say it out loud.

"Your visit would certainly lift her spirits, my prince." She said finally, but he laughed mockingly at her words, shaking his head in disbelief, she felt an unpleasant shiver run down her spine.

"A visit from the man whose actions led to the murder of her son. Most certainly." He replied, revealing his face, spreading himself comfortably in his chair with a loud creak of old wood, placing his hands on the armrests, looking at her expectantly.

"I'm going to be a father."

She looked at him, horrified, swallowing loudly, surprised that he had said such a thing out loud. She felt her whole body quivering, that this conversation was overwhelming her, for some reason she felt a dull, piercing pain in her heart, something akin to a huge, sad disappointment.

"I am aware."

"What do you think of me, my lady?"

Silence.

"Go on. I've always appreciated your sharp tongue." He hummed, tapping his index finger against the wood on which his hand lay.

"There is nothing I can say on the matter. I'm not well-read on the subject of lovers and mistresses." She replied, and he sneered under his breath, there was something mischievous in the sound, but also a kind of relief, as if for some reason he needed to speak to someone about the matter.

She didn't know if he was aware of it, or if he was trying to confide in her subconsciously, unable to hold it in anymore.

"I'm curious what you would think of her if you met her. About my Alys." He muttered under his breath, the woman's name sounded mysterious and proud, he said it lingeringly, as if thoughtful, as if saying it he saw her face in his mind.

For some reason she felt a burning wetness under her eyelids.

My Alys.

She pressed her lips together and swallowed hard, feeling a tightness in her throat, her body trembling, trying with all her might to stop what was happening to her, not to think or feel, but a single, solitary tear ran down her cheek anyway.

Before she managed to wipe it away his gaze settled on her face and stayed on it, his lips parted in disbelief, as if he had only just realised that his words were inappropriate.

It seemed to her that he wanted to say something, to apologise, but his voice stuck in his throat as she covered her mouth and laughed desperately, tears flew, flew and flew down her face, as if something inside her had burst.

"− she is surely a wonderful woman − and now, with your permission, I would like to return to my chamber −" She muttered with a grief-stricken smile, wiping her cheeks, eyes and nose, knowing that she was now as red as the tomatoes from which she had eaten soup that evening.

She left immediately when she saw that he had nodded, and it was only behind the door of her quarters that she burst into a loud, uncontrollable sob.

She had never gotten her hopes high, she had watched and loved him from afar, in silence and humility, but his words seemed downright cruel to her, as if he knew he would hurt her with them.

She had always been faithful to him and his family, so why had he humiliated her?

The next day she avoided the places where she could meet him, spending all her free time in his sister's chamber, who lay in her bed, gazing at the sky outside the window. She sat beside her and held her hand, as she had always done for many months.

There was nothing more she could do for her.

She helped her bathe, dress, walk and lie down.

Although she tried to engage in conversation with her, the princess locked herself in her mind and did not leave it.

She did not come out of her chamber until late in the evening, heading to her rooms, exhausted, walking inside with a loud sigh, throwing the books she had been reading in the meantime onto her bed.

She shuddered and screamed, frightened, catching her heart when she heard movement behind her, saw his silhouette rise from a chair standing on the other side of her quarters.

"− gods −" She muttered, sighing heavily in relief, thinking that perhaps it was some kind of assassin again, trying to calm herself down.

He didn't even say a word when he approached her in a lazy, unhurried step, towering over her with his figure, holding his hands entwined behind his back, his face impassive and thoughtful, his lips clenched into a thin line.

"I am returning to Harrenhal. Another uprising has broken out." He began, and she felt that painful tightness in her throat again. She nodded and clenched her eyelids, wanting to show him that she understood and that he did not need to explain anything to her, he continued, however. "I trust only you. I wish you to keep me informed of what is happening in the keep."

"As you wish, my prince." She said quietly, looking blankly at his chest, angry and bitter that she felt a pleasant heat in her lower abdomen and a tickle in her fingertips from his distinctive scent, a mixture of male sweat, dust and smoke.

She didn't understand why he stood there and remained silent, why he couldn't leave her alone, why he was torturing her.

"After what happened in Storm's End, for many nights I considered taking you by force. I came close to doing it many times, close to taking you with me to Harrenhal, but I spared you." He whispered in a quiet, trembling voice and she shook her head quickly, horrified by his words and how much they hurt her, she wondered how he could be saying this to her now, what purpose it would serve.

"I am grateful to you for your mercy. It will not be forgotten." She said in a hollow, impassive voice, from which he swallowed hard and tense all over, she heard him draw in a loud, impatient breath.

"Do you resent me for this? Would you rather I made you my whore? Hm? Nothing is lost yet." He hissed, taking a step towards her, and she stepped back, looking into his face with a fury from which she saw the hesitation in his eye.

"Get out. Run to her. Enjoy the birth of a child similar to those you have despised all your life." She said coldly, saw something flash across his face and for a moment thought in disbelief that her words, her rejection had hurt him.

He swallowed hard, turned and simply walked away, as he always did, leaving only a void behind him.

The word of his defeat, that he and his uncle had fallen from the sky, that Daemon's sword had pierced his skull, reached her and sliced through her heart like a dagger.

She wept that day in her bed thinking of all the things she had never told him, of how deep inside her even though he had broken her heart, she recognised as an act of his warm affection and respect that he had not stripped her of her dignity, that in thinking of her he had given up himself and his desires, even though a part of her wanted so much for him to destroy her.

Helaena threw herself from the window a few days later, and her death, the most innocent of them all, made her lose her reason for living.

She thought of following in her footsteps, but instead, before the troops of the Blacks occupied the keep she fled, heading along the king's tract to Harrenhal and then beyond to where he was last seen.

She felt a sense of relief when she jumped off the cliff, as if she was free at last, the water she fell into was icy.

The thought of death terrified her and calmed her at the same time, she thought for a moment her body would struggle for one more breath and then it would resign itself to its fate and become silent forever.

She felt a squeeze in her throat, the last warm sensation surging through her lower abdomen as she sank down into the darkness and recognized in the distance his long, white hair.

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strangersmunsons · 2 months

Text

💖 Eddie Munson x Reader Fic Recs 💖

I just wanna show some appreciation for a few of my all-time favorite Eddie fics! Here’s a handful of the series & oneshots that have really stuck out to me in all the time I've been reading - there's A TON of great writers on here who have posted really stellar work :^)

List under the cut!

june baby by @luveline - luveline jade u are a celebrity to me. this was the first Eddie story I ever read and it is so beautiful. it's tender. it's melancholy. it's realistic. it's gorgeous. it honestly makes me feel something I've never felt reading any other fanfiction.

oh, baby by @inknopewetrust - another one of my first Eddie fics! the feeling that this series invoked in me is what I aspire to invoke in others for my own writing someday. it's just so sweet and funny and made me nostalgic, in the same way that watching '80s teen films do, except it's even better because Eddie is in this one. I wanted so badly to just dive into the story and really experience it for myself.

hoping I'll find [a glimpse of us] by @inknopewetrust - this smashed my heart into 1000 pieces, and then promptly glued it very sloppily back together and I've reread it like six times just to reinflict the pain. I love rockstar!Eddie stories that maintain some realism about what that type of relationship would look like, and this fic does that SO perfectly. masterclass in angst right here.

dancing with myself by @ambrossart - this one hits close to home! and even though it hurts along the way, there's a happy ending that it builds so nicely towards! it's beautifully paced & the reader is very funny. you can just tell that the her backstory & relationship w/ Eddie was so carefully thought out, it really feels like this was written with so much love! and I LOVE that it doesn't paint Chrissy as a villain.

10 things I hate about you by @spideyanakin - so glad that we all collectively agree that Patrick is Eddie-coded. and in this fic the parallels are there, without Eddie sacrificing his own unique character - that part is handled really beautifully! and the ST characters are worked into the original movie's narrative so well. it's the perfect mix of fluff and drama!

freaky friday by @jo-harrington - I adore this series! I love this version of Eddie so much I could cry, he is so sweet and selfless, I want to give him the entire world. and an Eddie & Steve body swap? 10/10. lindsay and jamie lee, eat your hearts out.

to know you're mine by @blueywrites - oooohboy. I almost didn’t read this one (just because I would normally avoid swinging/cheating in a fic) but I'm so glad I did, because it was like being on the homer's odyssey of 18+ ST fanfiction. it’s wild. bluey girl u were insane for this. and i mean that as an extremely high compliment. i was so damn invested!

i will wait by @abibliophobiaa, @blueywrites, @breddiemunson, @myosotisa, @fracturedarkness - there's three chapters, it's on hiatus, I don't care, I will literally keep reading these three chapters over and over again and just fill in the blanks myself if I must. it's that good. you guys are amazing. I am totally enthralled.

rumor by @msgexymunson - this is what turned me on to older!Eddie. I love him, and I desire him carnally, and specifically this version of him. when I daydream about Eddie sweeping me off my feet, I think about Eddie in this series. he's everything to me. I even wrote my own older neighbor Eddie fic because of this!

trapped under ice by @munson-blurbs - the iron grip this fic had me in...I'm still going back and re-reading my favorite parts. it's beautifully developed. this version of Eddie is so real and believable. Harris is my favorite kid he's ever been given. an all-time, truly, I can't sing its praises enough.

siren!eddie by @parkermunson - a monster-ish Eddie fic! I'm a sucker for anything that incorporates mermaids and sirens and the like, so I really love this concept. it's a great story, I love our protective, doting fishboy, and hope to see more of him!

use me by @reysorigins - simultaneously the nastiest and sweetest fic ever. smut, but it's interspersed with these moments of such deep-seated love and yearning between Eddie and the reader that it made me want to cry! incredible piece.

mine and yours by @muertawrites - ahhhh this one is so so sweet! dating is so fucking hard, I think we could all use a comforting, reassuring moment with a sweetheart like Eddie, who is especially kind to us in this fic. I love the way he’s written here.

our patron saint of the arts by @storiesbyrhi - I love an artsy, crafty reader! I feel like Eddie would be sooo into someone who’s creatively-minded like him. this is the dream relationship, basically, these two are adorable together! (and Eddie in a dress! 😗)

And this is just a sample of what’s out there! Some of these are fics that I read very early on, even before I started this blog. I was more shy then, too, so I feel like I never showed them the appreciation I should have! You guys are all so talented, these works are very inspiring to me.

To readers: I encourage you to let the writers know how much you enjoy their work! Reblog! Leave a comment, even if it’s just in the tags! Write a reply, or send them a message, even if it’s on anon! I’m trying to get better at doing these things myself, too 💖

#eddie munson fic recs #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson series #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

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savannahsdeath · 9 months

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Hi <33 I love love love your writing and I really want your take on what fucking santa barbara!Ellie would be like if your up to it 🫶🫶

first of all THANK YOU💗💗 and yes ofc i tried my best !!

SANTA BARBARA!ELLIE X READER HEADCANONS + EXAMPLE ONESHOT

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! smut

writers note: its not like my typical hcs because this ones more like umm with plot?? idk how to say this but i hope ykwim😓ENJOY!!

🌿 she's definitely rough like im sure 100%

🌿 she would degrade you but she also praises you from time to time

🌿 now, hear me out, she doesnt have her usual smirk. like someeetimessss but mostly she looks so stern and focused youre literally scared to make a sound

🌿 she definitely doesnt care about making a mess. shed be sooo sloppy istg!!!!

🌿 she also doesnt care about whatever youre saying. she barely listens. everytime you hit her with a 'stop/too fast' she either completely ignores you or replies with some 'huh? what did you say?' and shed go even faster..

🌿 she def uses strap but also loves just using her fingers. she just wants to feel it ykwimmm

heres an example story(lets skip the plot)

its not really what i meant but whatever😓

You couldn't stop yourself from moaning, what seemed like an invitation for Ellie to shush you by pressing her lips to yours. It silenced you, but not stopped, as your inaudible groans were now caught in Ellie's throat.

You were unable to move, pressed against the wall, so she didnt need to hold you. With her free hands she started undressing you both, knowing you wont be able to do so by yourself. She didn't break the kiss though, only stopping for a second when she had to pull your shirt over your head and didn't have access to your face. She continued right after.

You're not sure when did you moved to the bed, but here you were, laying down beneath her.

She kissed your neck, leaving wet spots on it. She was moving down your body, as you played with her hair, shutting your eyes closed.

Not long after that, a few more of your body parts were red from her nibbling - inner thighs mostly.

Even though she took her time, it didn't take too long. She knew youre impatient and wasn't in mood to mess with you, not yet, not like that.

Soon after, she buried her face between your legs, planting the same messy kisses all over there.

Her hands were holding onto your thighs, preventing them from clenching. You knew her grip will leave bruises, painful ones too, but you didnt care.

Ellie's tongue was definitely doing a good job, playing with your clit, slidding in and out of your entrance.

Her fingers didn't loose up but her thumbs started gently tracing circles on your skin, which definitely made it seem less aggressive.

When she was finished with her mouth, one of her hands took the initiative. She was rubbing two of her fingers for a few short moments, before pushing them in.

You were finally able to see her face - her expression. She looked at you firmly, like one bad move could get you killed.

You were whining and whimpering, desperately begging her to slow down.

"Sh, shhh... Just take what youre given, will you?" The corners of her mouth moved slightly upwards, creating a little smile.

You nodded but continued squirming, your thighs trembling, breath shaking...

"Oh, dont be so dramatic. Youre doing good, you'll handle it, trust me." She reassuringly patted your side. "People survived worse things."

Did that help? Well...

But you knew its the best she can do when it comes to being nice. You couldnt blame her, not after you found out about her past. She killed more people than you ever talked with, after all..

Your mind went blank and you couldnt think of anything to say, so you kept mumbling the two words you always do - 'Ellie' and 'please'. At this point, it seems your mouth remembered how to say these. Your tongue knew exactly what to do to make them come out of your mouth, while it was struggling with any other word.

But it was enough for her to know what you want to say.

When youre finally done (she can tell youre close by the way you scream her name, so she knows when to go faster), she cleans you up with her toned expression.

"See? You'll live, atta fucking girl."

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i-write-sometimes-maybe · 3 months

Text

Careful- Emily Prentiss X GN Reader!

Synopsis: You get injured in the field, and Emily just wants you safe.

Warnings: Descriptions of wounds but not really, Emily just takes care of you. Mostly fluff, basically a Drabble. No gender specified.

Word Count: 1.2k

A/n: I wrote this just so you guys have something while I finish this forsaken Lesso OneShot, I'm sorry it's taken me forever to get anything out. I'm currently working two jobs and saving up for my own place so I'm a bit busy Imao.

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

Emily's gun had fired a loud shot, but it wasn't loud enough to cover the sound of your seared gasp.

Her one bullet had taken out the unsub, but not before he got a bullet of his own out. Only, his bullet traveled straight into your shoulder.

Her gun was still trained on his body, now being checked for a pulse by Hotch, but her eyes were trained on you.

You were clutching your shoulder, blood now oozing through your fingers, partly hunched over trying to calm your breathing.

You were used to the pain of bullets, it was nothing new to you, but that didn't make the pain any better.

"Y/n?!" Emily shouted, gaining the attention of the team.

"I'm okay! I'm okay! Let's just secure the scene and find the hostage." You stood straight once more, trying to go further into the house.

"Y/n, you've been hit! You need medical!" Morgan came up to your side.

"It's not the worst thing I've dealt with, let's go!" Everyone on the team has been shot at least a handful of times, and everyone has been abducted at least once, you can manage a shoulder hit.

"Y/l/n, wait outside for medics. That's an order." Hotch finally added.

An annoyed groan came from you but you still did as told from your superior.

You didn't wait but maybe ten minutes before two ambulances showed up, presumably one for you and one for the hostage.

Emily desperately wanted to be at your side while the ambulance took you to the hospital, but Hotch ordered her to go with the hostage to wait with her while her family arrived.

To her dismay, Emily didn't get to leave the hospital until you had already gotten a ride back to your shared townhouse.

She sped down the highway, going as fast as the car would let her. She was a federal agent, what would the state officer do even if they could pull her over?

You'd think you were barely clinging to life with the way she sped and swerved the lanes.

Truthfully, she was just concerned. She couldn't see you at the scene before you were hauled away, and then the family had to fly in from another state to see the victim. It was safe to say she was desperate to see you.

You were unsurprised to hear a car speed into the driveway. Your townhome wasn't the biggest, so you heard the tires screeching while you were in the bathroom, trying to pull off the bandage from the back of your shoulder.

Not even 10 seconds went by from the time she pulled up in the drive to the moment she was walking through the front door.

"Y/n?!" You sighed, knowing how this conversation would go. It goes the same every time one of you gets hurt.

"In here." You shouted from sitting on the vanity.

Again, not a moment passed before she was by your side.

Emily walked through the bathroom door to see you sitting on the bathroom counter, first aid supplies and wrappers all skewed around you, topless and trying to reach around to your back. To your credit, you had gotten the bandage mostly off, just some of the medical adhesive was out of your reach.

Emily could see the stitches on your shoulder, briefly looking into the mirror and seeing your exhaustion she also caught a glimpse of another bandage.

"A through and through?" Was all Emily asked, she's seen you in this situation far more times than she'd like to admit.

You merely nodded, giving into trying to take off the bloody bandage. Normally you would've left it alone, but you guessed a stitch ripped and it caused you to bleed through the bandage.

Emily wordlessly took over, you knew she would, and carefully pulled the rest of the bandage off. She paused a bit as she heard you let out a seared gasp.

"Sorry, you're good." You caught each others eyes in the mirror.

"That was stupid, Y/n," She spoke softly.

"Emily..." You groaned, you've been here before and you just wanted a clean wound so you can go to bed.

"Y/n, you knew the profile. And you still tried to reason with the guy!" Emily was annoyed but she wasn't truly surprised, you've always tried to be the voice of reason with anyone, and you've always been the one to try to keep the bullets from flying. The irony, right?

"I know, Emily! I was stupid and reckless, I've heard it before. And I'll hear it again tomorrow from Hotch when I have to write a report, just leave it. Please." This conversation was one you could recite from memory, hearing it a few times a year.

She sighed, "I know, look I'm sorry. I care about you, okay? I just want you to be more careful."

"I know you do Em, that's how I am with you too. And we both know that we both agree to be more careful until the next case comes along." Emily said nothing as she taped the clean piece of gauze onto your shoulder.

She tapped on your uninjured shoulder and you took your silent cue to turn around for her to replace the other gauze.

"You got lucky." Her tone was laced with concern and you could tell she tried to hide the little bit of impression in her face.

She was right, you managed to talk the doctors out of giving you a sling as long as you promised to take it easy. And as you said, you promise until the next case comes. Hopefully there'll be a week before the next case...

She started to say something else but you weren't paying attention to her words. You were paying attention to the way her brows furrowed with concentration as she avoided the wound while cleaning. You were focused on how she was delicate yet precise with her movements, probably from all the experience she's got.

Emily wanted to be upset with the fact that you weren't listening to her advice, but she really couldn't. It wasn't the fact that she's a broken record, telling you things you've heard hundreds of times, but the fact that you were so almost entranced by her.

Emily couldn't help but notice the look in your eye, it's the same one she has when she looks at you. How even though you were in pain, you were still mindful of her.

But that's the thing, pain or not, Emily was still the same sensitive person you fell in love with. She was your painkiller. Always there to make you feel better, regardless of the ailment.

"Thank you, Em." You said quietly as she finished up on the front piece of gauze, collecting and tossing the trash from her work and your attempt of bandaging.

"Always. I'll always be here for you." She said in the same softness you spoke in.

"You promise?" You looked her directly in those beautiful eyes.

She hesitated a bit, knowing of her past she can't guarantee anything, especially a long life with you, "I promise."

You simply smiled and rested your head on her chest. This move of yours filling her heart with the love she's always wanted, the love she never thought she deserved.

🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮

Taglist: @just-your-casual-nerd @v3nusxsky @bigolgay @hxzxrdous @pebbleswritessometimes @sgelessoanddoveykissing @scream-queenlover @darkth1ngs, lmk if you wanna join my taglist!

#fanfic #oneshot #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #x reader #gender neutral reader #aaron hotchner #derek morgan

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seelestia · 1 year

Note

Dunno why I felt compelled to do this, but-

Here's some dialogue I just thought up regarding that angsty af Zhongli oneshot that a certain someone requested (who could it be I wonder 👀👀)

The ones talking are Ganyu and the Reader.

"Do you regret it?"

"Regret what?"

"Your love."

"..."

"I regret not being born earlier."

"I regret not being a goddess."

"I regret not being the first."

"I regret not having the long straight hair he so misses."

"But most of all, I regret not being her."

"But you had no control over any of those! It's not your fault!"

"...That's exactly why it hurts."

We love angst 😩💅💅👍✨

- Ever so sadly yours, 👹✨ Jae (also hi Lia :D been a while since I been in your inbox huehue)

— 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭.

a continuation to do you love me? choose a decision at the end! only 1/2 endings available as of now.

summary: a cracked heart is like a cracked jar; it can only hold so much within before it shatters — what if you've come to terms that you cannot take the pain of the truth any longer? (1.2k+ words)

genre: angst, "loves you but not most" trope, lovers to ???? (open-ended / cliffhanger i'm sorry.) + read the alt text on the header for extra summary!

characters: ganyu, zhongli, guizhong (implied).

cw: descriptions of crying, one pet name.

thoughts: you came into my inbox after a while and you brought pain with you. i'm not particularly proud of this but here you go, i cannot be blamed for these buckets of tears any longer. (/j)

✰ main masterlist. // series masterlist.

The night was young in Liyue, the breeze was gentle as it swept across the lands — but oh, how you wished the wind could also blow the sadness in your heart.

Blurry sight, soaked cheeks, sheer and pure numbness. For how long had you been like this? Seconds felt like minutes, minutes felt like hours, and hours felt like days. Whatever perception of time you had left just seemed to crumble to dust.

You couldn't help but wonder why? Ha, what irony when you knew very well why.

Wasn't it the truth that was relayed to you some time ago? Wasn't that why you decided to sneak away whilst your lover was sleeping, why you were crying in the company of a concerned friend, why you were here right now?

"I'm so sorry—" you choked out an apology to Ganyu through bated breath.

Your friend was out for a midnight stroll when she saw you and upon seeing how red your eyes were, she didn't leave your side out of worry ever since. You tried to reassure her that you'd be fine alone, really — but she looked so devastated, equally as sorrowful as you were like the very sadness in your heart was her own.

But you felt pathetic; so pathetic and so pitiful.

Nothing had been the same after that day, as much as you wished to deny it. Curiosity did kill the cat, after all; in your case, curiosity was what condemned your soul to a void of nothingness.

They said love was what filled a human's soul and if that were true, then you would be nothing but a shell of a soul. Zhongli gave you a love that you wished to cradle with your all forever — but he was never yours, never completely yours. Yet, how could you blame him? How could you ever blame him for experiencing a love so great he wasn't able to forget it?

"I'm not her. I could never be her," you finally forced the words out, clutching onto the railing of Liyue Harbor until a stinging pain greeted your hands. It had been the simplest conclusion, yet the hardest pill to swallow. A fate you couldn't change even if you wished you could so bad, someone unrivaled you could only imagine holding a candle to. Bitter and self-deprecating were the quiet laughter you let out at the realization.

Never was, never will.

"[Y/N], you don't have to apologize," was all Ganyu could afford to utter. She knew she should've said more, but the words escaped her barren mind; perhaps, it would be better to listen instead of saying something that could make matters worse. You could tell that Ganyu was disappointed in herself for not being able to provide you with profound wisdom or the right words of comfort.

Truthfully, you couldn't help but feel terrible for putting her in this situation, for possibly ruining her night with your mood. But when the Adeptus placed her hand on the crook of your elbow as a physical reminder that she was here for you, you smiled. Then, you turned your head towards the ocean and closed your eyes.

Finally, the pain of crying finally caught up to you, hoping that the blowing night breeze could somewhat soothe the stinging dryness and heavy bags underneath your eyes. As you did so, in the corner of your mind, a single thought passed by and you caught it by its tail.

Was it a thought meant to be voiced or buried? Either way, you brought it to life and wondered out loud.

"...Would it be better if I broke things off instead?"

Your question seemed to take Ganyu by complete surprise.

You knew why so; before your relationship with Zhongli came to be, Ganyu was one of the listening ears to your constant rambles about him. How much you admired him, how flustered you were when he smiled at you, or how you felt like you could float to the skies whenever he spared you a single glance. You recalled the surprised look on Ganyu's face when you first told her about your feelings for her Lord, but she was supportive towards your endeavor.

Now, here was where both of you stood. Oh, how time flew.

"Do you remember when he accepted my confession?" Even with your eyes closed, you could almost feel Ganyu nodding at your words. You were the same, you felt as if you could recall it like it had only been yesterday too. "I was so happy I felt like I could float to the clouds and never return. The man of my dreams is finally mine! I thought," you laughed, but there was no hint of mirth evident in your tone.

"What was it like? Being loved by him?" That sort of question sounded foreign to Ganyu but still, she asked, a willingness on her part to indulge in your nostalgia.

"Warm like having someone wrap a blanket around you and comforting like feeling the steam from a cup with your favorite tea on your face after a long day," you hummed. If loving Zhongli and being loved by him were a feeling, it would've been one that you'd never let go of... but you knew this feeling was no longer the same after the truth.

"I am not his greatest love, yet he is mine," it was something you stated solemnly, having come to terms with that fact yet not being able to fully withstand the ache that came with it yet.

When you continued, your voice broke and you frowned, "Why does it have to hurt so much? I want to stay with him, I want to pretend I didn't hear anything that day, I want to go back to the time where I knew nothing about her — but I couldn't."

The corner of your eyes began to sting once more, welling up with tears at a possibility of euphoria which you could never go to. "If only I could, then I wouldn't spend all my nights awake, wondering why I wasn't her or thinking of ways I could somehow be better than her in his eyes. If I could, I'd be sleeping happily in his arms right now and... I wouldn't feel this pain anymore."

There was no stopping the waterfall running down your cheeks now and you could feel that stinging pain again as a result. "But that's a fantasy," you breathed out. You were just so tired and your knees were beginning to feel weak — but still, you looked at Ganyu through your blurred vision.

"...What should I do? Should I save myself or dwell in blissful ignorance?" You whispered with a smile that was unbefitting of your melancholic question. Ganyu hesitated but before she could formulate an answer, a familiar spoke from behind the two of you.

"...My love," a voice that was all too familiar and a nickname that caused all that was going on in your brain to halt.

You froze, veins running cold.

"R-Rex Lapis?"

Ganyu's shocked yelp confirmed it all.

There Zhongli was, standing there. A few strands of his hair looked amiss as if licked by the wind from a fast-paced trip, as if he had just gone places, as if he just went everywhere searching after waking up with you nowhere to be found in his arms. Maybe, that was exactly what he did.

His amber eyes were downcast and the way he was standing so fixedly instead of looking like he had just arrived instantly made your heart clench — because that could only mean one thing.

He heard everything.

[ WHAT IS YOUR NEXT DECISION? ]

↪ Stay quiet and dwell on your thoughts of breaking up with Zhongli.

↪ Wipe away your tears and put on a smile as if Zhongli didn't hear anything. — COMING SOON!

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

#genshin x reader #genshin x you #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #genshin angst #zhongli angst #seelestial.inks #dylm.series 🍵

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lightlycareless · 2 months

Note

hiii i rly love how you portray naoya and i really like how you got naoya's character on point like...... HOW

but like im imagining this headcanon wherein y/n and naoya are lovers and naoya brought up the topic of having an "open relationship" and naoya ends up getting no bitches/loses them in the process and y/n ends up getting approached by men who naoya respects a lot or someone he really looks up to and naoya becomes jealous and very insecure even though he was the one who wanted to open the relationship (reminds me of what you wrote about naoya's jealousy towards nanami)

Hello anon!

Awww, thank you so much ❤️❤️ I spent a lot of time thinking how to make Naoya as realistically possible, how to redeem him and such, which was difficult, but satisfying at the same time.

Yet, something a-hole behaviors of him would remain, lol it has to, or it wouldn't be him, you know???

And the open relationship thing is soooo in character for him. Ugh that man, seriously... As much as I want to deny it, I feel like he would bring it up (but in a universe he isn't like completely devoted to you, like he has yet to realize just how much you mean to him—all paths point to the same destination, it's just... how he gets there that matters lol)

Anyways, here are the warnings of this oneshot 😏: y/n has a harem essentially. gojo, suguru, nanami, and an extra one I've been dying to write. :)))) mentions of infidelity, naoya is a bastard. and a sprinkle of smut. fluff, and angst.

Without any further a do, happy reading!!

When the idea of an open relationship is suggested… the first of many fractures unwittingly struck your relationship.

First by shattering the image you had of him.

Sure, your feelings for Naoya remained, which is what made this ordeal far more painful…

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t harbor other emotions, such as anger.

“—just before we finally settle.” Is the lousy excuse he gives you when confronted, another stab to your heart. “Get it out of the system, you know?”

No. You don’t know, because for the past few years, Naoya is the only man you’ve had eyes for, to the point of imagining a future with him—and solely him.

It hurts to even consider he hasn’t been doing the same, probably already interested in some other woman, the reason behind his suggestion in the first place.

“I don’t want to…” you murmur, doing your best to not leave the table, or at least not shed a tear.

“It’ll only be a short time.” Naoya insists. “This way, we can know if we’re truly meant for each other. See if we don’t feel the same with others, hm?”

It’s stupid.

It really is—

Naoya’s suggestion… and your devotion to make him happy.

Because even after all the dumb things he said to justify the unjustifiable, you still wanted to please him.

“I guess we could go through restrictions or something, not that I have an—”

“No sex.” The rapid way in which you reply is something Naoya can’t help but find adorable, interpreting your eagerness as jealousy, overprotectiveness… before brushing it off as silly.

“Y/N—my love, you’re not seriously thinking we can reach a conclusion without that now, can we?”

Truth to be told, you didn’t want to find out. Not through this way at least, by laying in the arms of another…

Thus, could he really blame you for trying to fight it?

“Besides, don’t you want to try it out too?” Naoya smirks. “I’m fine with it, really. It’s a two-way street, after all. What’s good in me having all the fun?”

What hurts more?

That fact that Naoya wanted to pursue other women with your permission?

Or that he was pushing you onto other men, appearing careless to whatever you did or didn’t do with them?

It’s not that Naoya doesn’t care—far from that, really. He doesn’t like when men do as little as glance in your direction.

But he doesn’t worry because he knows there’s nothing to worry about.

Trusting that his hopelessly-in-love girlfriend would never betray him like that. Aware that your attention and devotion has been on him the moment you took him into your heart—and that no matter what, you’ll always come back to him.

It’s why he suggested the idea in the first place, because he’s long acknowledged that even past your limits, you still tolerate him.

Thus, unsurprised that you agreed to this change—Naoya leaving the apartment soon after that.

Looks like you were right in assuming he already had someone in mind to debut this new arrangement; willing to bet anything to prove he’s already on his way to her.

…Well, you hope that Naoya at least respects the only condition both agreed on: to not bring any partners to the apartment.

Not that you’d be there to see much of it anyways, opting to stay in your friend’s—Shoko— apartment for the time being.

“Can’t say I didn’t think him capable of doing something like that—but I guess I never thought he’d actually do it, not after dating you as long as he did.” She’d say, before taking a deep huff of her cigarette and exhaling.

You always found it endearing how she’d release the smoke to the side, as if it didn’t permeate the air around you… but at least Shoko cares enough to try. Not sure if you think the same of Naoya anymore…

“So much for having faith on him…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you say, offended yet intrigued by her implications.

“I mean, you knew of the rumors before dating him, Y/N.” Shoko adds, you sigh. That, you did. “I don’t want to say I told you so, but…”

“I guess I was hoping they weren’t real, either.” You slowly admit. “…What am I going to do, Shoko?”

A breakup isn’t exactly what you had in mind, certainly not what you wanted to do….

But why do that now when you could take advantage of this exploitable opportunity? An opening all too obvious to Shoko, which she doesn’t hesitate to let you know.

“Give him a taste of his own medicine.” She suddenly suggests. “He told you, didn’t he? That you were good to be with other men.”

“But I don’t want to.” You shake your head. “I don’t—I don’t think I can.”

“It’s exactly the same, just another face if that’s what you’re wondering.” Shoko explains, but to you, it was much deeper than that, always has been, for an emotional personal like you.

It’s why she was so angry that your beloved boyfriend was quick to disregard your feelings.

“Ok, sure, let’s say I agree.” You play along. “How do I even start? It’s been a while since I’ve been in the dating scene—I don’t even know if I’m still… desirable.”

Oh, if you only knew some were dying for this moment.

The first to approach you, and shockingly no less than a day after, was Gojo.

It was through an unexpected text, making you surprised he still had your number after all that time—or at all, considering you didn’t really text anyone outside of your family, close friends, and… Naoya.

Satoru once belonged to your social circle, but due to unknown reasons of his own, most likely to do with Suguru, he strayed.

Either way, you responded as amicably expected.

S: [Are you doing anything tonight?]

Y: [No… why?]

S: [Let’s get something to eat 😋]

Y: [Did you text the wrong person?]

S: [Wait, is this not Y/N’s number?]

Y: [It is…]

S: [Then I’ll pick you up later at Shoko’s apartment, 7 alright for you?]

Y: [Wait, how do you even know where I’m staying?]

S: [It’s a date, then! See you soon!]

It was good to see that Satoru remained as… well, pushy as ever. Not that you were glad to have been pulled into this outing without further precedent, but you eventually succumbed to the flow, and soon, you were in one of the fanciest restaurants of the city, sitting at a table Satoru had gotten through a reservation (difficult to do so given the status of the establishment, guess he can do anything that he sets his mind to), while chatting the evening away with just about anything that crossed his mind.

Regardless of how… oddly this situation came to be, you still found enjoyment in catching up with an old friend of yours. It had been so long since anyone had seen him, many even thought he had left the country all together.

Not that you had a way to know, since your connections were already limited thanks to Naoya—One of the many things you’ve had to sacrifice in to keep your attention solely on him.

…

Was your relationship with him always this consuming?

Well, you had lots of catch up with Satoru either way—it almost felt like you were getting to know him all over again! Happy to see that he essentially remained the same (somewhat irritating) goofball he always was.

But unfortunately, just as the good remained, the bad also prevailed, which you’d be reminded of when going for a walk around the city, just a few blocks down the main road when both were approached by a group of women, who upon catching sight of him and his undeniable attractiveness, knew they needed his attention.

That’s the thing with Satoru. Raised as the heir of a highly prestigious company, he just never got enough of it. Always wanting more and more, and not afraid to do whatever necessary to get it, careless if it was to the detriment of others.

Thus, you assumed it wouldn’t take long before he completely ignored you in favor of them, leaving you behind.

When talking about him, you normally wouldn’t care if he left you or not. He was just another friend, long accustomed to his ways. It was just… never like that.

But after all that happened with Naoya, it’s like your still-healing wound reopened, pain sharper when slowly reminded that even with a friend, you weren’t good enough to retain their attention, less their care…

Well, at least it was a good distraction, and you got to see Satoru again. You wonder how much would a taxi cost to take—

“Seriously, couldn’t you be any denser?? I’m on a date here!”

As if you’d been showered with a bucketful of ice-cold water, you freeze, blinking while slowly turning to see him and his angered face.

Did you… Did you hear him right?

“Get lost.” Satoru doesn’t even bother letting them respond before his hand is already on your back, gently pushing you forward and away from the group, leaving behind both the distraught, slightly spiteful women…

And your erroneous preconceptions.

As he goes back to the previous conversation you two were having, acting as if nothing happened, even suggesting getting something sweet to serve as dessert —your choice, he’d tease— all the self-doubt you felt for his actions immediately evaporates.

It was simple, more likely unintentional, but his gesture in defending your importance, highlighting the fact he wanted to be with you, against how he usually behaved…

Made you feel special, realizing that perhaps it wasn’t that hard to be somewhat of a decent person.

Yet, your feelings…

“It was a nice night out.” Satoru would say once parked outside Shoko’s apartment complex, signifying the end of your unexpected yet pleasurable evening with him.

“Yeah, it was… nice.”

“I hope we can do this again.” But you don’t keep your hopes up, not when your feelings for Naoya were still there, prickling at the back of your mind, inundating you with a sense of wrongfulness, for you were never one to offer the other cheek, regardless of what your estranged boyfriend was or wasn’t doing.

Unless Gojo were to do something to make you… well, not change your mind, but rattle your beliefs, if only for a moment, when he ruffled the top of your head, giving you a smile, before softly kissing your forehead.

Alongside the reminder that…

“You’re too pretty to be upset about someone like him.”

Albeit archaic, his words convinced you that perhaps… you could do with another day like this.

The second to approach you, yet again to much of your surprise, is Geto. Just a few days after Satoru did. Although his invitation was much more… palpable.

In other words, you were getting lunch with Shoko when he made his “sudden” appearance, joining the two for a bite, before driving both back to her apartment, only voicing his intentions when she was out the car, leaving you alone.

Although sweet, wholeheartedly intending to spend time with you, you could still that some of it lingered the realms of an unspoken competition between him and Satoru—which you didn’t know whether to be flattered by, or worried…

“—and let me guess. He spent the whole evening talking about himself.”

Somewhat, not that you cared to justify, really, for you were far more enthralled in learning all that he’s been up to since he left.

But it was the truth either way.

Geto sighs.

“We’ll do something better.” And so, is how the date begins, by first taking you to the mall, window shopping through essentially every store that crossed your path, while catching up with him—he too had disappeared for a while, motives unclear, although the common theory was that he had a nasty falling out with Gojo. But now it seems they’re on good terms given the way he occasionally mentioned him throughout the conversation.

Beyond that, you assumed Geto also took this visit as a good opportunity to go through some pending errands, maybe get something for himself as well—or… for someone else.

The things he was looking at were quite eye-catching, after all, very gift appropriate.

Regardless of who it was intended to, you were right to assume they were special to him if he was considering buying a diamond necklace…

But yet again, that’s what you believed—reality was simply much different.

Or obvious.

“Why don’t you try it on?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if you wanted to try it on— I know it’ll look beautiful on you.” He’d say that, genuinely, with just about anything he deemed suitably for you, ranging from jewelry to clothes…

With your face flaring every single time.

“Oh—I—I don’t—” you stammer, struggling whether to decline his offer because this is all too luxurious for your taste…

Or because you were still processing the words that made you blush in the first place… alongside the fact that at one point, his hand had reached for yours without even noticing, intertwining his fingers with yours and staying that way while the two continued to walk around the mall.

Just… why did Satoru and Suguru decided to appear out of the nowhere?

“No, thank you.” Is what you eventually manage to say. If he’s noticed your nerves, he doesn’t say, instead, he simply gives your hand a soft squeeze, followed by another equally charming smile. “I don’t feel like trying out things either way.”

“Don’t worry about it, then. Perhaps another time.”

At his promise, you can’t hold back your skin from growing increasingly hotter, doing your best to instead focus on the movie the two agreed to watch, with little to no success, of course, considering Geto also took this opportunity to unconsciously drape his arm over your shoulders and move you closer.

While stereotypical, it still manages to fluster, and that’s how you’d remain for the rest of the date: even when getting something to eat, or when it was time to take you back to Shoko’s apartment once late enough.

But on the way back to the parking lot, you’re able to snap out of this trance when something catches your attention, just by the corner of your eye, effectively stopping you on your tracks.

Something simple, like a minimal black halter dress… unintentionally the same model you’ve wanting to try since forever, but never daring to do so, believing that your body was unbefitting of such style—and quickly, you moved on.

Your gaze didn’t linger much on it beyond a few mere seconds, certainly not for Suguru to notice, or so you considered…

But when the next day comes, a package is suddenly delivered at Shoko’s apartment, with your name on it, that by various personal reasons you open with great anticipation, growing distraught when seeing it had to do nothing with what you projected—

Quickly flustered upon realizing that the sender was Suguru all along, demonstrating his attentiveness by gifting you the same dress you saw last night, as well as his intentions of seeking something more with you.

“I enjoyed our time together. I wish to see you again—hopefully with this dress.”

You didn’t think you were too obvious when it came to your reaction, but at Shoko’s mention, you finally acknowledge you’ve been smiling, heart loudly pounding against your chest as you lovingly held the dress, moved by his gesture…

For when was the last time someone had gifted you something to your liking, without having to beg for it? Without having to justify why you wanted it?

…

Had it really been that long?

Just what else was missing in your relationship with Naoya…?

Or perhaps, not wanting to face?

…

Your feelings, to begin with.

Because as attentive and caring Satoru and Suguru had been, neither were courageous enough to acknowledge the situation that put you in their reach in the first place, opting to instead reap the benefits, but ignore the rest.

It wasn’t malicious, not at all. It’s been stated by now that they truly cared for you, always checking in on you whenever possible.

It’s just that… they didn’t feel comfortable doing so yet, believing they were far from appropriate, or close enough, to do so.

Judging by those characteristics, the only one worthy enough, and the one that would end up confronting you for that matter, was Nanami, who wanted to see you as soon as he found out the horrible situation Naoya had forced you to but struggled to do so thanks to his strenuous new job.

But once he was free, the first thing he did was call you, eventually meeting in Shoko’s apartment (she was gone for the day, for privacy matters, how convenient) and thus, everything else unfolded.

“Why are you even dating Naoya if he’s hurting you so much?”

“I—I don’t think that’s for you to discuss.” You objected, going through a roller coaster of emotions, a combination of unwillingness to speak of the matter, and fear of admitting the truth.

To talk about something like this was never an easy matter, more so when the situation was already deep in hot water…

Yet, his assertive nature didn’t come as a surprise to you anymore, nor permitted you to avoid it.

Nanami had always been this way, the one willing to speak about difficult things, rip the bandage, careless if you were prepared for it or not.

And let everything that is meant to happen, happen.

“My relationship is something only I should speak about! And when I feel ready for it…”

“Not when I see how much it’s hurting you.” He rebutted. “When was the last time you were genuinely happy at his side? Or where you didn’t have to sacrifice your personal life just to keep him happy?”

It’s obvious what he’s referring to—Nanami is another one of your friends you’ve lost contact with due to Naoya’s… jealousy. But different from Satoru and Suguru, he cared too much to just let you go, consistently reaching out to you whenever possible—even when you never answered.

“You don’t know what we agreed on—”

“I don’t think that losing your friends was part of that.”

“You don’t know him, you don’t know Naoya at all!’

“And you do?” Nanami counters, breath hitching at your throat, upset by his abruptness. “You once said Naoya was crude, but he’d never do anything to willingly hurt you—and yet, here you are, in an open relationship you clearly didn’t want.”

“Kento—that’s—” your voice trembles, his words too close for comfort. “That’s not—"

“Then why? Why do you keep tolerating him?” Nanami frowns. “Do you hate yourself that much?”

“What? No!” You shake your head, aghast by his accusation. “That’s not it, at all!”

“Then what is it, Y/N? What could possibly entail sticking around with a man that has done nothing but hurt you?”

“Stop it…”

“Seeing other women while still being with you? Is that your idea of a good relationship?”

“Kento, please—”

“It’s never my intention to offend you, but I can’t help believing you’re growing desperate—seeking for something you can’t have with him! So why? Why do you try so hard to make it work, when he clearly doesn’t deserve—"

“Because I don’t want to be alone, ok?!” You eventually shriek, tears in your eyes as his words stung your heart too deeply, too much to handle in silence anymore. “It’s just as simple as that!”

Nanami’s eyes widen, taken aback by your unexpected outburst and confession, yet, as surprised as he was, if not bothered, he was also very, greatly hurt by its meaning.

Your words unknowingly disregarding everyone else that had ever been there for you.

And such, he cannot believe it. He doesn’t—not when he’s been there all along.

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N.” Nanami insists. “What is the truth? Is he forcing you to this??”

“No, Kento, he’s not!” you objected. “I truly want to be with him, because he’s the only one that has ever wanted to be with me.”

“You know very well that’s not true.”

“Seems like our perspectives vary greatly.” You frown. “I remember attempts of trying to get close to people, only to be pushed to the side when someone better came along. Person after person, they all just… ignored me; either because I was overshadowed by my family, or because I was too mundane to compete with others.

Until… Naoya came along. He was the only one that saw me for who I was. Even though it was mostly because I fit the mold he wanted.

But even then… I was happy to play along, because it meant that for the first time in my life, I meant someone to something.”

“That’s what you think? That you didn’t mean anything to no one else?”

“It’s not what I think—It’s what I know.” You sniffle, doing your best to hold back the tears pooling in your eyes from falling. “…Even now I know I’m only relevant because I’m Naoya’s girlfriend… but once that’s gone, I’m sure no one will look my way—"

“That’s not true.” He swiftly interjects.

“…And how would you know that? How would you know that this time, fate wouldn’t be cruel to me, like it has always been?!”

“Because there is someone that cares for you.”

“Let me guess, my parents.”

“No—I didn’t mean them.” Nanami frowns.

“Then who—” you breathe. “Who are you referring to??”

And suddenly, thanks to his softening eyes and growing silence… something clicks in your mind and all makes sense.

His anger, his protectiveness, his insistence…

There was a reason behind them all, only now does it become clear to you.

“…Why didn’t you say anything?” you softly ask, heart sinking when looking back at the dismissive way you treated him, always standing by your side, and yet…

“Because you seemed happy with Naoya.” Nanami adds. “Perhaps I was at fault too, for not having spoken of my feelings before, but… after seeing the way you smiled with him, I supposed it was for the best if I instead, supported you as a friend.

But because I’m your friend, I can’t allow you to go on thinking no one has ever cared for you. That no one has loved you for who you are… or will never do.

And most importantly, remind you that this—this isn’t what happiness looks like.”

At his open declaration, you couldn’t stop the wave of overwhelming emotions from washing over you, a combination of shock, sadness, and perhaps… longing, wondering what would’ve happened if you knew of his feelings back then.

Would you have accepted them? Or would everything continue as it does now?

Well, one thing is for sure—Nanami would’ve never suggested something like this; the thought wouldn’t even cross his mind!

But it’s too late now. You’ve made your decision and now, you were suffering the consequences…

However, you didn’t have to be alone anymore—and Nanami would reassure you of such by the following words, the same one’s he wished to have told you back then… and possibly save you from all this pain.

“I love you, Y/N. I always did, and I’ll always do. Even if we never see each other again—you’ll always remain in my heart.”

Because he would rather die than to make decisions that hurt you.

Leading you to unwittingly discover what it was to feel loved, for the first time in your life.

A heartwarming sensation, with no strings attached, just… someone that wishes your well-being above everything else, alongside your happiness, and nothing more.

And such, something grows inside you, something that pushes you to be closer to him, far beyond this day—

Coincidentally, he’s also the first one you kiss.

After Nanami’s visit, your days would slowly become brighter, although the grey cloud of Naoya’s seeming infidelity still lingered in the background.

But even then, your mind didn’t dwell on him for long, difficult to do so thanks to Satoru’s, Suguru’s, and now, Nanami’s interventions, as well as Shoko’s advice of enjoying the best of your new status.

The men involved didn’t seem to mind… too much.

Sure, their jealousy would sometimes rise to the occasion (from one person in specific) but as long as you continued to be attentive with them, they were willing to “share”, believing it was only a matter of time before you left that jerk-of-a boyfriend of yours once and for all, settling for on them instead.

Long story short, everything seemed to go on peacefully with your new routine…

Until the sudden appearance of a man you never expected to see, less set his eyes on you, since the only time you’ve seen him was that one instance you became acquainted with him thanks to Naoya’s business, never to speak again, disrupted all you held true.

While you might’ve seen this moment as expendable, forgettable even, to him, it was the fated day he knew he must have you—a growing desire to make you his when the time was right.

Naoya’s stupidity opening that door.

Sukuna was the owner of a rival company, a fierce competitor that always made the Zen’in uneasy whenever mentioned, constantly keeping them on their toes—because with a man as belligerent as him, to let their guard down, if just for the slightest, meant the complete loss of all they’ve worked for.

It’s safe to say that Sukuna had garnered the reputation of being aggressively intimidating, thus it was only right to assume that his approach would be of the same nature.

“I—I can’t” is what little you manage to muster through the fear constricting your throat; you still remember the eeriness you felt when meeting him that one time, never believing it could worsen… until you had him just a few feet away.

“I wasn’t asking.” He responds, the tone in his voice not only highlights his sincerity, but also warns you there won’t be a second chance.

Urging you to do what’s best for you, less…

Perhaps out of fear of experiencing his anger, some kind of retribution, or because deep inside, past your worry and hesitation, you were genuinely intrigued to know what a man like him might’ve found interesting in you… you accept.

Because after all was said and done, he was far different to what you were normally accustomed to…

As well as to willing to bargain for.

You don’t know what it was—maybe it was your blinding intrigue, your desire to taste something way beyond your reach… or because you took Shoko’s words a bit too literally, even though with him, she insisted you to be careful…

You ended up following Sukuna into his apartment; And not only that, but you also let him show you what true desire meant, in more ways than one, sure to never forget.

“Su—Sukuna—!” you’d breathe, whatever little you could muster through the tightening of your chest and the fuzziness of your mind, harshly gripping his arms, as he pushes you over the edge and into your release for what seemed to be the nth time that night. “Sukuna, please—I need—I need a break—”

“No—you will take it!” he groans, holding your waist and keeping you in place as his cock deep into your core, each time harsher than the last one, bruising that spot that always made you see stars over and over again; unexpectedly, a place that Naoya was all too ignorant of, Sukuna being amongst the few, if not the only, to achieve such feat.

No wonder you were reacting the way you were, losing yourself in pleasure, because just as he teased…

“This is the first time you’ve ever been with a real man, isn’t it?” He laughs when feeling you quiver against his hold, feeble against the sensations he’s relentlessly giving you, finding your numbing reaction, eyes rolling to the back of your head, mouth agape, and toes curling… to be quite adorable.

Doing all in his power to get more of this reaction—hopefully, beyond this night too.

“They simply don’t make the cut! —But how could they? With a cunt as lewd as yours, one isn’t enough!”

Sukuna doesn’t find satisfaction in seeing you with other men, less when you’re still “taken”.

But ever the one to seek advantage, even in the most uneven of fields, Sukuna was quick to see the endless possibility this opportunity provided—more than ready to exploit them…

“Don’t—don’t say that!” you’d moan, with such an exciting cry, Sukuna just couldn’t help prolonging this night. “That’s not—that’s not tru—ah!”

And keep you all for himself.

“I don’t want you staying at that hideous apartment anymore.” Sukuna would mutter the moment you opened your eyes; having fallen asleep soon after the strenuous ordeal, and suffering from its aftermath as soon as conscious.

“It’s not… nasty.” You groan, slowly blinking as you look back at him, doing your best to push yourself up from the bed, only to fall back down when resulting too weak to do so. However, even when dealing with the sharp pains across your body alongside unbearable drowsiness, you’re capable enough to defend Shoko. “…It’s a nice place.”

He chuckles.

“Yeah, I’m sure it is.” Sukuna then reaches over to the nearby bedside table, sliding the first drawer open and taking out a pair of keys which he’d give over to you soon after.

You look at it perplexedly, confused as to their meaning… before growing shocked, slumber completely gone from your body when listening the following statement.

“From now on, you’re staying in my apartment.”

“Wh—what?” First that, and now, this? Sukuna meant no joke when it came to you. “No, I can’t accept this!”

“You sure love making me repeat myself, woman.” He scoffs. “It’s not a matter of whether you can or cannot—you will.”

It’s an amazing talent of Sukuna to always sound threatening even when dealing with the most ordinary of things, but either way, you’re not interested in testing how far his limits went, and thus, (not that you had any other option) you accept the keys while silently wondering what the future holds for you by making this decision…

“Uraume will help you move your things. I better see you here when I come back after work—less you wish to be punished again.” He smirks, fingers sliding along your skin before pulling you close to him once more, a whine escaping your lips as you realize what is to transpire next yet again.

Guess you’ll find out soon enough.

…

As well as what Naoya’s been up to, for the day Sukuna allowed you to, you decide to go back to your shared apartment to pick up a few things to take with… him, now that you’re essentially living together.

It was a very awkward arrangement, if you thought about it, one that Shoko was strictly opposed to, but… well, you would be lying if you didn’t admit you were having a good time (outside of the painful pleasures he pushed you through every night) for a plethora of luxurious reasons. Far nicer than what you were used to seeing with Naoya.

Which you could openly enjoy due to Sukuna’s absence, rarely getting to see him due to work commitments, Uraume representing him instead… not that it was any better, for they were just as awkward as awkward can get.

And yet, not as much as what happened when you walked through the door of your shared apartment with Naoya, welcomed by the one person you did not expect to see there, believing him to be completely enraptured in his new freedom, given the silence he always responded with whenever you texted or called him.

“Naoya?” You asked, although confused, you were more… shocked to see his distraught appearance, almost as if he hadn’t been able to sleep for the last few days—or at all.

“What are you doing here?” you add. “I thought… well, I thought you’d be… somewhere else.”

“I can say the same thing about you.” He frowns. “Is it true that you’re staying with that woman?”

“Her name is Shoko…” you murmur; even when away, Naoya remains…

Either way, given his attention on her, it seems like he doesn’t know about Sukuna, yet.

Or Gojo.

Or Geto.

Or Nanami.

Because if he did, it would’ve been the first thing he mentioned; his jealous nature never one to take as a jest.

Unless…

“But yes, I am staying with her.” You confirm. “What about… you? Where have you been staying?”

… and still, you can’t help but worry for him.

“Here.” He confesses, you blink.

“…Really?” Even when skepticism is evident in your voice, he doesn’t not say anything else. Instead…

“Yes. And… it’s time for you to come back home.”

“Why? What happened?” you fret, naturally fearing the worst…

Which you were right in assuming, just that… it wouldn’t be what you expected.

“You—you had enough fun.” Naoya unwittingly stammers, a scowl on his face, or was it sorrow? As he continued. “It’s time for you to remember you’re mine and come back home.”

“Enough… fun?” You slowly repeat, invertedly hurt by his words, as if he weren’t the one that set up this situation in the first place, yet, still overwhelmingly confused as to what he meant.

Suspicion that perhaps he did know about your flings after all begins to settle in your mind, but it isn’t until his following words that it finally takes roots.

“Don’t hide it, Y/N—I know you’ve seen others. And quite frequently too!”

“You’re… you’re doing the same thing.” You immediately respond, scurrying to defend yourself. “And you don’t see me complaining…”

Even if you wanted so much to do so.

“No, of course not—too busy with them, aren’t you??”

“Excuse me? You’re—You’re one to talk! You never answered any of my texts, or calls!” you gasp. “Do you even know how… how…”

Hurt I was?

Guessing by his absence, you assume not.

… Oh, how you wished Naoya kept silent. Kept his words to himself and went on acting as he always did, because maybe, you wouldn’t have felt this burning anger stirring inside you, created by the reassurance by those around you, the reminder that you were still deserving of being cared for, appreciated.

Far more than what Naoya has ever done for you in the past few years.

That much you see now.

“… Let me get this straight, Naoya… you want me to come back… because you don’t want me to see others, even though you did the same thing??” you say, and by the gloomy look in Naoya’s eyes, you could tell you guessed right, stinging a nerve while in the process.

Yet not a sentiment that insulted him, but rather… reminded him of the shocking truth he’s keeping away from you.

Hoping it stays that way, unless you place the pieces together yourself.

“Do not talk to me like that.” He warns, you frown.

“I’m just stating the truth—you went to see someone as soon as you left that day, didn’t you?”

“That’s not—why does it even matter at this point? You did the same afterwards!”

“Again with that—You were the one that suggested it in the first place!” you gasp. “Why does it bother you so much?? Didn’t you…. Weren’t you encouraging me to it?!”

“Yeah, but it’s not like I expected you to actually—”

Realizing the imprudence of his words, he suddenly goes silent.

“Expected to actually… what?” you frown.

Naoya doesn’t answer, all he does is scoff before looking away.

A few more seconds of silence, something clicks in your mind.

Anger finally taking a hold of your emotions.

Because just how foolish could you have been?

“Please, come back.” Is what Naoya eventually says. “I don’t want an open relationship anymore—let’s just forget about this and… move on.”

“And why would I do that?” you scowl. “Don’t you have other dates to go to?”

…

Silence yet again.

“Naoya?”

“I don’t. I… never did.”

The truth jolts you far more than you imagined, for it completely contradicts all that you once believed to be true, replacing the pain you’d been feeling since that day, the tears, the anger, and all your actions… with nothing.

As if everything you suffered… was void of any true meaning.

But that was only one point of view, you had yet to see Naoya’s. The truth as to why he hadn’t gotten any dates.

Or at least… successful ones.

Naoya did go out with women that caught his interest, having his go-to procedure ready to go when it came to impressing them, such as taken them to an expensive restaurant, gifting them luxurious jewelry, or simply showing off the privilege his family name provided— things he was sure would get him in their pants.

But when he thought it was only a matter of seconds before he got lucky, they would coldly ignore him, turn around, and… disappear.

It was difficult for him to understand why that happened, considering all that he “offered” …

What he failed to realize, though, is that one simple yet big problem stood between him and his ultimate goal: a personality many weren’t willing to tolerate, especially with the intensity he seemed to go on about, no matter the amount of riches he represented.

And soon, it wouldn’t take long before rumors of his personality began to spread into the circles he was involved in, not like it wasn’t happening already beforehand, Naoya was already well-known as a bratty heir with an equally explosive temperament—he just became more… popular.

Rumors he never had issues with, unbothered by them, because you… well, you seemed to not care for them. Willingly tolerating him instead, perhaps far more than he was deserving of, and keeping by his side, no matter what.

Giving him a false sense of confidence.

Unfortunately, he wouldn’t come to realize this until seeing you with someone else—whispers and sightings of your dates, far more successful than any of his attempts, and without even trying, was enough to ignite a fire under his ass and come rushing to you.

Falsely believing it was just a matter of calling it off for everything to return as it was—you by his side, and his blinding jealousy effectively gone. Because only he deserved to have you.

Failing to realize the damage he’s already struck onto this relationship,

Yet, he still came back, shamelessly expecting he’d be received with the forgiveness, compassion and care you unconditionally provided, no matter the gravity of his mistakes…

But what seemed noble, prophetic even, for him—

Was only insulting to you, and when the nature of his actions reveals itself to you, your anger transforms intofury.

Because a man like Naoya shouldn’t have the freedom to openly discard you, and then want you back when things aren’t going his way—without facing consequences.

You were not there to be a steppingstone of sorts, be there through every single step of the road, sacrifice your life… only to be replaced just because he wants.

It was painful, it was unjust…

And it was unpunished.

For him to make it up for you, he’ll have to face the repercussions of his acts, experience just how much you suffered…

Only then, would you consider going back to him.

“I’m sorry, but I have things to do.”

“What?” Naoya’s eyes widen. “What do you mean you have things to do, Y/N? What could you…—you’re going to see someone.”

“And what if I am?” you frown. “I’m not doing anything I’m not allowed to do.”

“I don’t want this anymore!” He gasps. “I don’t want you to see anyone else, just me!”

“…Then you’ll just have to wait until I’m done. Until I’m sure we belong together, you know? You said so yourself, I just need to get it out of my system before I make a decision—” At being served a spoonful of his own medicine, the color in Naoya’s face disappears. “Only then, will I’ll come back.”

If you ever do.

“Y/N—Wait!”

Because after what you have planned for the following weeks, Naoya would only be lucky if you even do as little as think of him.

Shoko is the one that let everyone know of your new "single" life. Except Sukuna, that man has ears everywhere, and when he saw it as his moment, he rose to the occasion. Nice.

Not gonna lie, this idea has been on my mind for a while now, like, as soon as Y/N is single people begin to hound her. Everyoneeeeeeeee Naoya really does not realize the stupidity he committed until it's too late. :)

And there you have it, my take on an open relationship with him! I once read that open relationships don't work, unless you're talking about celebrities, and I'm honestly inclined to accept that...

But yeah, him doing this is like the worst thing Naoya could think of; there's just so many things that could go wrong—safe to say, in another universe 1) Naoya would never suggest it. 2) Y/N would never accept it lol.

Anyways, thank you so much for sending in this ask! I hope it was to your liking :> ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Take care, and hope to see you soon!

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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