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#her away made him feel like he had nothing
all4yoi · 2 days
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only you
𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ⚹ cw. part 2 of just a game , hyung line , 2nd pov , ︎ fluff / comfort , lowercase intended , crying , cliche fluff omfg , karina mentioned on heeseung's & wonyoung on sunghoon's , not proofread ! part one here !
after catching them holding hands with another female, you walk away from them and they run after you, assuring you it was all a misunderstanding.
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★ LEE HEESEUNG (0.5k words)
the day was coming to an end and heeseung has yet to find you.
after he had politely rejected karina, he ran after you but to no avail. all of his attempts on trying to reach you was a bootless errand. everytime he had seen a glimpse of you - whether in the cafeteria, library, the hallways, and god even in your shared class - you somehow always found a way to avoid him.
he could've simply gave up and moved on, he could've ran back to karina and date her instead. but he didn't want to give up and move on, he didn't want to run back to karina and date her, because what he wanted- needed, was you.
heeseung didn't want to go home yet, he needed to see you and explain everything. he'd be a fool to let you out his reach especially now that he knows you feel the same for him. he wasn't going to lose you because of a stupid mistake he made.
spotting a familiar figure sitting underneath a tree in the university's garden, he silently walked towards them, his fingers crossed hoping that he's finally found you.
and as if the universe was on his side, he saw you gorgeously flipping through a book with your pink earphones on. heeseung silently sat beside you, hoping you won't run away from him again. he saw how you stiffened and how your fingers stopped playing with the book's pages, and he wanted nothing but to hold your hand. it was your hand he wanted to hold- no one else's. you may not be with him yet, but ever since he realized he liked you, he was already yours before you even knew.
"y/n," he started softly, gently removing one earbud from your ear so you could hear him. you let him and look at him with hesitance, scared that he's here to tell you that he's changed his mind and he likes karina now instead.
heeseung smiled softly at you, "please let me talk and explain everything, okay?" you nodded, feeling your throat clogging up. "karina, you know she's one of my good friends, right? when you saw me holding her hand a while ago, she was the one who took my hand. i was so taken aback by her confession that i completely froze-..
because she's like a sister to me and you're the one i want. you're the one i need.. the one i like." he paused, brows furrowed in worry, hoping you'd understand. "i'm sorry for letting her hold my hand, and i'm sorry for hurting you. i really really like you y/n, please let me redeem myself to you." he finished, a small hesitant smile in his face as he studied yours.
feeling overwhelmed, you burst into tears. heeseung panicked, thinking he said something wrong and brought you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you.
"i thought you'd choose her over me." you cried in his chest, your own arms wrapping around his waist. heeseung didn't know why, but even when you were crying in his chest with your arms wrapped around his waist, he was feeling over the moon.
shaking his head, he pulled you closer if it was even possible and mumbled in your hair, "i'll choose you in a room full of other girls baby. only you."
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other members utc!
★  PARK JONGSEONG (0.5k words)
3 hours was enough space right? jay liked to think it was, he was too impatient and just wanted to run to you and explain everything, but he knew you probably didn't want to see him after what you've witnessed.
jay had tried to put himself in your shoe, imagining seeing you holding hands with another boy after confessing to you- by the thought of it alone already made him feel ten times more worse, he hated himself with how much pain he had caused you.
so instead of waiting until tomorrow, jay took his bag and walked out of the cafeteria, ignoring his friends that were calling for him. he already knew where to find you, after all, he's always had his eyes on you ever since the first semester started.
jay muttered a quiet 'good afternoon' to the librarian before making a beeline towards the back of the library and there you were in your element. laptop open, headphones on with multiple books on the table you've occupied.
he liked to think that his type were girls that were a bit dumb so that he could lead the relationship, but when it comes to you? smart, pretty, and soft spoken? if his heart could speak, he's certain that the only word it can mutter is your name, and he's not ashamed to admit that.
the moment you looked up and made eye contact with him almost made his knees give up if it weren't for him holding on to a shelf to stabilize himself, and when you softly smiled at him despite what you saw that morning, it made him yearn for you more. he wouldn't ask for no one else.
call him cliché but you were the only one for him.
"what are you doing there? come sit." you motioned on the empty seat across from you to which he occupied immediately. "have you eaten?"
"have you?" he questioned back, eyeing the papers and books splattered on the table. "i had coffee." was your reply.
jay knew that you were still upset, it was showing in your body language. you were tense, stiff, and your fingers were shaking behind your laptop. he wanted to punch himself for making you feel this way.
"i'm sorry y/n, i really am." the hum you let out made him continue, his eyes studying your pretty face silently. "it's really not what it looked like-"
"everyone says that jay." the way you bit your lip told him that you didn't mean to cut his sentence off and be so harsh.
"yes, i know, it's stupid but i'm telling the truth. she bumped into me and fell, i couldn't just leave her on the floor because everyone saw our collision so i offered her a hand. that was it, i was about to walk away but she introduced herself and insisted on shaking hands.. then you saw me.
i know it looked so wrong from your perspective without context, and i'm sorry for upsetting you. i really had no other intentions, i was telling you the truth when i told you that night that i like you too, so much." he reached out for your hand, sighing in relief when you didn't pull away.
you nodded your head in understanding, squeezing his hand to tell him you now understand. "i'm sorry for jumping into conclusions and not hearing you out the first time."
he shook his head, squeezing your hand back. "it's okay, i understand. we're good now?" chuckling at him, you nodded and smiled at him. "we are, thank you."
★ SIM JAEYUN (0.4k words)
the tears in your eyes as you walked away from him made his heart crack. should he run after you? will you find him annoying? do you want him to run after you or do you want nothing to do with him now?
after arguing with himself on his head, he ran after you and engulfed you in a hug before you could turn around the corner and disappear from his sight. "please let me explain." his own voice cracked, and the weird looks you both received from the other students did not faze him at all.
"jake, not here please. they're looking at us.." he hastily took your hand and led you into an empty classroom, wanting nothing more than to assure you that what you thought is wrong and all he wanted was only you.
after he had made sure the door was locked and no one else was hiding somewhere, he immediately took your hands in his rubbing the back of your palm with his thumb.
you didn't know what to feel, was this how he held that girl's hand too? did he hold hers with gentleness too? with that in thought, your tears were back.
"no no, please don't cry. it was all a misunderstanding i promise." he held your face and wiped away the tears, his eyes held worry but so much love as well.
"she mistook me as her boyfriend, it didn't even last for 10 seconds because the moment she held my hand we both pulled away from each other.. it was just wrong timing that you saw it and we made eye contact, please believe me." he was practically crying with you right now, his own tears cascading down the apple of his cheeks.
you frantically nodded your head - now you were the one panicking at the sight of his tears. "i do, thank you for explaining. please don't cry." his tears were wiped with your thumbs as you hugged him tight.
"i don't want you to ever think i'm lying to you, you're really all i need." he explained further through his sobs, his arms tightening around you more.
there you two were, hugging each other in an empty room, tears falling down from both of your eyes as you comforted each other. and at that moment, no one else mattered - it was just the both of you in the world.
★ PARK SUNGHOON (0.6k words)
to say that sunghoon felt like shit the whole day yesterday and this morning was an understatement. he had desperately contacted you in all your social media accounts - fucking christ he even contacted you through your school's email, but to no avail, he was always left ignored.
he didn't blame you though, if he was to experience and see what you did yesterday, he would act the same - maybe even worse. sunghoon wanted nothing more but to make it up to you, to explain that he was only doing wonyoung a favor to make her crush jealous. i guess you could blame him for agreeing, but did he really have a choice when she just randomly grabbed him and told him to smile at every passing student? maybe.
he had texted wonyoung that same afternoon, telling her- demanding her politely? to explain everything to you, she told him she did but was only left on read by you. the girl apologized profusely to you and sunghoon, she didn't have any idea about the two of you and if she did - she wouldn't have done what she did.
but what's done is done, and now sunghoon is still trying to desperately reach you. throughout the day, he would hear your name coming out of other people's mouth, but not once did he catch a single glimpse of you. sunghoon was running out of options, he didn't want to be that type of guy to show up infront of your door step in fear of crossing boundaries, but he was seriously considering doing it today.
sunghoon mentally chanted your name in his head as if that would help and summon you, and you know what? maybe it did work because now he was seeing you standing across from him, your back facing towards him as you looked at the bulletin board.
not wasting any time, he raced towards you and gently grabbed your forearm, successfully turning your attention from the bulletin board to the taller boy behind you. sunghoon wanted the ground to swallow him whole when he saw how your face dropped at the sight of him.
"let's talk, please?" he whispered that only you could hear, glancing around the corridor before looking back at you. the small hesitant nod was everything he needed before he lead you in an empty hall as everyone was in the cafeteria.
sunghoon took his chance and took you in, loving the way you've dressed yourself today and he wanted to just keep you in his arms all day, but he reminded himself that he needed to clear things up and make you his girlfriend obviously before he could even do that.
"wony already explained everything, i'm sorry for assuming the wrong thing.." sunghoon was taken aback by your sudden apology, and the tightness in his chest grew.
he took your face in his hand, gently bringing your chin up so he could look you in the eye. "i should be the one apologizing.. i'm sorry for making you feel that way, i didn't have any other intentions towards her and i only like you.. so much to the point that it hurts. i'll do anything to prove it to you."
he couldn't understand that someone so precious as you could grow such feelings for him, he couldn't process and believe that he's important to someone he finds important too. should he be punished by the gods above because he finds your teary eyes enchanting? he could see his reflection in your eyes and the love it carries, and somehow he finally understands. sunghoon feels warm as he brought you to his chest, tucking your head in the crook of his neck.
"i'll show you, i'll give you my everything and my forever. you're it for me."
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milkteahood · 23 hours
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together through it all
Simon Riley x fem!reader
Summary: being there for Simon during one of his many night terrors
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“No! No! Fuck no! Please… please not her. DON’T TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME”
Sweat broke on Simon’s forehead as he jolted awake, gasping for air. Stumbling, almost as if running from something, he made it to the bathroom where he threw himself over the toilet, puking his guts out. His whole body was breaking in cold sweat, shaking, with a blurry vision.
He didn’t hear you come in and almost attacked you when you placed a hand on him. He stopped midway, eyes bloodshot, his body only shaking harder when he realized it was only you.
“Si? Baby, it’s ok” your soft voice echoed in his mind, hand running up and down his back as he started vomiting again.
It wasn’t the first time this happened. Simon had severe ptsd, and this reaction was nothing new. He tried to warn you, saying you wouldn’t be happy with him. To go find someone that can actually love you normally. But he didn’t get to decide for you. And over time you got better and better at helping him when needed.
“You’re ok Si” you spoke gently, using a towel to wipe the sweat off his face.
He didn’t respond, but when he finally looked up at you, his face was incredibly pale. His lips were losing color too, and his eyes were a little glossy. This panic attack was one of the worst you’d seen him have.
Your hands cupped his face, and without even realizing it, he leaned into your touch, almost to see if you were actually real.
“You’re ok now” you said. Again, he didn’t respond. His breathing was heavy, and he closed his eyes, leaning more into your touch.
You held him for a while, giving him time to relax. His head almost fell onto your chest and strong arms wrapped themselves around you. There was something different about all of it. The way he held you, as if he was almost afraid you would vanish into thin air.
“Do you feel alright enough to walk?” you asked, arms wrapped around his neck, holding his head close to your chest. He only nodded in response.
As you stood up, you gently helped him up too, using your body to support his.
Once you made it to the bedroom, he collapsed on the bed, but still refused to let go of you.
He didn’t speak, his body still slowly shaking as he buried his face deeper into your chest, taking in your scent, trying to convince himself you’re actually real. He’s not hallucinating. You’re indeed there, trying to wrap a blanket around him as he refuses to let you move.
Once the blanket was over both of you, you resumed your gentle touches, fingers running through his hair as his breathing was slowing. Your fingers worked like magic on him. Your patience, something he never saw himself worthy of. All the times he yelled at you during one of his episodes. And even now, he was about to attack you. He didn't understand why someone like you would put up with someone like him. He didn't deserve you, he was sure of that. But he will be damned before he lets anyone take you away from him.
“You’re ok now” you said again, kissing the top of his head “it’s just us here” you continued, nose nuzzling his hair.
He nodded, closing his eyes.
You only closed yours once you heard the soft snoring coming out of your lover’s mouth.
“I love you, Si” you said, earning yourself a little snore in return, which made you chuckle.
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miinatozakiii · 2 days
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are we still friends? (can we be friends?)
minatozaki sana x fem!reader ; fluff, angst 
synopsis: seeing sana again during christmas causes feelings to resurface
warnings: food ; alcohol ; datzu crumbs ; cursing ; proofread halfway bc i got lazy + grammar and spelling errors probably
a/n: how to write angst?? am i cooked?? (I'm cooked) ALSO I wrote this in December so a lonnnngg time ago like when I touched the doc for the first time two days ago it said last edited 12/30/23 T-T
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“y/n! come help with the decorations, it a bit tough to reach.” your mom calls out from the entrance.  
pausing in your place, you turn to respond to her, “i’ll be there in a bit, let me finish mixing everything.” 
“okay honey. make sure to wear a coat when you get out here, it’s chilly!” she yells back before closing the door. 
a giggle leaves your lips as you continue to sift the dry ingredients, trying not to spill the flour and sugar. when you’re done with a part of your cookie process, you wash your hands and throw on your puffer jacket before heading out to help your mom. 
christmas is in four days and your mom has this annual thing where she throws a big party at your place every christmas eve. she invites all her friends who are back in town—some even fly out to come to this big event—and it goes on until the concerningly late hours of the night.  
your mom didn’t get to throw this big party last year because she was terribly sick, so you missed it that time, but now she’s so back.  
this means you’re in charge of the baking (yet again) and also helping her out everywhere. it’s not that you don’t enjoy this, if anything you look forward to this event—just not this year, it won’t be the same as the previous christmas parties. 
your mom has this friend who moved in five minutes away from your house when you were twelve, and they had a daughter your age. of course, both your mothers found a way to get you guys to meet, and eventually, you’d be spending the majority of your middle and high school years together stuck by the hip. 
her name was minatozaki sana; she was the first person you had fallen in love with inside and out.  
she had this type of vibrance to her that spread through her surroundings like a bullet train. if the room was dim, it’d seem like she had brought a piece of the sun inside just by being there, instantly illuminating it. it was palpable that she had her flaws, everyone did, but with the way she held herself up and gave her all, you’d see right past her imperfections and into that warm heart of hers. 
sana expected nothing and appreciated everything, that’s what made her lips curl up into a contagious grin. the streaks of creased skin in the corner of her eyes as she flashed that toothy grin gave everyone the intimation that she was simply overjoyed to be able to have the ability to love and to care. she was so beautiful in the way she found adoration so enticing, and that’s why you had fallen in love with her. 
your years with her passed by quickly, each year was filled with vibrant memories that led you to fall even deeper into her charm. however, you never mustered up the courage to tell her how you really felt toward her, and by the time you had gotten close to spilling out your pent up feelings; sana had found herself a little boyfriend. 
chris was some guy on the basketball team—who was also a bit short and lacking skill to even make the team—he was an arrogant, pretentious, and egotistical snob who managed to win sana’s heart. how did he do this? who knows, everyone who’s interacted with him either hates his guts or is in love with his pathetic self.  
he was only nice around sana, but you had seen him when he wasn’t pretending like there wasn't a stick up his ass. he was below the bare minimum and that’s how you’d describe him, he was nowhere near sana’s league. if anything, maybe you were just jealous (and that you were), but you knew what kind of person deserved sana—chris was not someone who deserved a wonderful woman like her. 
that asshole managed to win sana’s heart and keep it for half of junior year and all of senior year of high school, then he managed to convince her to go to a college that was a five-hour flight away from home—and by the way, your town was a two-hour drive from a well-known, top notch university, one that you and sana agreed to go to when you were both in middle school. 
there was no way you’d let sana go to that college, not when chris was the reason she was going. it was a school that wasn’t even comparable to the one not so far from home, the one that had significant alumni and programs fit for the both of you. sana could easily win a decent scholarship to the university you’ve been dreaming of going to, but she was going to let him change her mind in a matter of seconds. 
there was no way you’d let that happen, so you simply walked over to her house and stormed up to her room after seeing her text regarding this whole plan, a fool’s plan.  
you remember the argument that shattered your friendships in seconds, almost like it was yesterday. 
“sana, you can’t just go to that school because of chris. look, i’m saying this as your friend and because i love you: he’s not all that, and the uni nearby has great health programs, they’re ten times better than the school over there and you know it.” you argue.  
you’re pacing around the room that you and sana have had countless late-night conversations and sleepovers in, the place where you had done more for sana than chris did. your eyes land on the two strips of laminated paper that hold the memory of the time you two had gone to the photobooth on your sixteenth birthday, your brows crease at the sight of your cheeks squished with sana’s as the two of you posed. a heavy breath makes your lungs shrink as you exhale. 
“i can’t let you do this, not for him sana.” 
“but i love him so much y/n, you know this. he promised we could stay in an apartment together and that everything would be perfect, we have a whole future planned and i—” 
“what about us sana?” you cut her off, voice breaking slightly. “what about our future? we promised that we’d go to that uni together, what happened to that? you’re going to throw it away for him?” 
“you’re being ridiculous y/n, we were thirteen! things change and you need to grow up, look—”  
“we’ve known each other since elementary school and you’re throwing away this opportunity for a guy whose grades are falling apart. not only that, he’s a fucking ass! you’ve come crying and complaining to me more times than i can count on my left hand.” you respond angrily, and much louder than you meant to. 
sana looks at you in disbelief, her expression almost carrying some sort of disappointment or disgust. she scoffs and you feel your heart shatter just from hearing it, this isn’t like her at all. 
“if you were so fucking annoyed by my misery then you could’ve told me,” she responds harshly, water lining her eyes.  
“sana that’s not what i—" 
“you’re supposed to be my best friend, always there for me and to support me. now look at you, what happened to that? can’t you be happy for me and chris? i seriously love him and all you’ve been is mopey and bitchy whenever he’s around.” 
“i know more people that have treated you better than him. he’s an asshole sana, it’s clear as day and even dahyun agrees.” 
her eyes meet the floor and she says in a smaller voice, “i love him y/n, and he loves me.” 
not like i love you, never will he love you like that. 
your features soften as you look at her. “sana you can’t—” 
“get out of my room.” sana spits in a stinging tone that’s worse than a dagger to your heart. she shakes her head then turns to avoid your gaze and your heart completely shatters as you watch a tear slide down her cheek in the process. “get out of my house, i don’t want to hear it.” 
“sana,” you begin, but when you hear her sniffle, you hold back everything that’s burning in your chest. your shoulders give up and sink in defeat before you croak out an “okay.” 
turning around, you step out of her bedroom with a heavy heart and trembling lips. tears stream down your cheeks as you make your way out of the house where sana and you had spent countless hours together—hours that you’d never forget no matter how hard you tried. 
each breath you take is visible in the cold air and snow compresses with each step you take whilst hanging up the christmas lights. your mother smiles once you pin the last string up and  then you take a step back to admire the illuminating pattern of diverse hues beaming when your mom presses the “on” button. 
“thank you again honey, i appreciate it.” your mom says, holding your hand and squeezing it gently.  
you turn and smile at her, shaking your head before responding, “anytime mom.” 
the two of you enter the house again and immediately you’re on your way back to the kitchen to finish up your famous cookies. you three different types of cookies: chocolate chip cookies (the fastest batch to be eaten), matcha cookies with white chocolate chips, and ube cookies—sana’s favorites. 
-- 
“ube? what’s that?” sana says, giggling softly as you hand her a purple cookie with white chocolate chunks.  
“just try it sana, you’ll love it.” you assure, urging her to try. “it’s purple too, how could you not?” 
she rolls her eyes at you then picks up the sweet treat, taking a bite of the cookie. it’s crunchy on the outside and perfectly soft on the inside, making her shoulders sink down and eyes close when the new, thrilling flavor meets her tastebuds. 
“so, how is it?” you ask, raising your brows. sana simply smiles and nods, shooting a dorky thumbs up before taking another bite. 
“it’s wonderful, it’s like coconut and nutty and has vanilla and oh my gosh it’s so… it’s really good.” she sighs, melting as she consumes your baked good. she looks adorable. 
you laugh at her response and take a bite of your own experiment, eyes widening at how good they were. sana was right, they’re wonderful. 
-- 
“ah the purple cookies, those were a hit ever since you started making them.” your mom says, rubbing your back. she looks at you with some pity, knowing about your little falling out with sana. 
you simply smile and nod. “i like them, i was going to save some for myself too.” you joke, easing some tension in the air. 
“well, i’m going to call your dad up, go visit the kim’s later and tell them i said hi.” your mom insists, placing a twenty dollar bill on the marble counter. “heard they have a holiday latte out, you should try it. dahyun’s also been experimenting with her baking and beverages, she gets better each time i visit.” 
“of course she is,” you chuckle lightheartedly, “let me just finish these last cookies and i’ll put them in the fridge for a bit. did you want anything from their place?” 
“no, it’s fine. oh wait! i have a present for dahyun’s mom, can you give her this if she’s there?” she asks. 
“mhm,” you hum,  “just put it near my bag on the couch.” 
“thanks sweetie, i’ll do that.” your mother beams, then rushes towards her room to grab whatever it was that she needed. 
-- 
ring  
the sound of the bell chimes throughout the café—which is not too busy other than the elderly group in the corner and a student typing away at their computer to the side. you catch sight of the familiar face, instantly grinning when you walk towards the register. 
dahyun is turned away from you and cleaning the espresso machine, wiping it down and yelling a “welcome! feel free to check out the holiday pastries and beverages!” without turning towards you. 
you laugh and speak up, “it’s nice to see you miss know-it-all.” and upon hearing your voice dahyun instantly turns around, beaming a bright grin and setting her rag down. 
“y/n? you didn’t tell me you were in town? what the hell where were you last year?” she questions, walking out from behind the counter and then towards you to greet you with a warm hug. she smells like coffee grinds and cinnamon, you hug her back and smile. 
“i was deathly sick last year, like seriously fighting for my life. i didn’t tell you?” 
“no stupid, you didn’t.” she sighs, then pulls away to look at you. “i’ve only seen your instagram posts, haven’t seen you in a bit and wow… you look better than in the pictures.” 
“thank you?” you giggle before she walks over to return back behind the register. “i’ve also seen your instagram… who’s that girl you’ve been posting? got a girl and didn’t fill me in with the details?” you pry, smirking cheekily. 
“oh, tzu… gosh y/n we have so much to talk about, i’m glad you’re back in town.” dahyun says appreciatively, and you don’t miss the slight pink that dusts on her cheeks before she starts again, “let’s talk over some coffee. what can i get you? on the house by the way. we have like, thirty minutes before a bunch of people start piling in.” 
a giggle leaves your lips again before you decide on a peppermint mocha. dahyun gets to work and weighs out the coffee grins as you situate yourself to the side, watching her work her magic. 
the two of you catch up on what’s been going on with college, dahyun’s love life that you’ve missed out on, and what you’ve been up to yourself. twenty minutes pass and you’ve both ended up on some old memory that has the two of you laughing like idiots again, making both your stomachs hurt. 
“so… we’ve talked about what’s been going on with me… what about you and your love life? bet you’ve met a girl too.” dahyun interrogates with a teasing tone.  
“oh, well—” you begin, awkwardly staring at the cup in your hand. “i dated this girl for a while, but we ended up falling out and staying friends, nothing much… we just weren’t right for each other.” 
“i see…” dahyun responds, holding herself back from bringing up the sensitive topic—or, well, person.  
dahyun was aware of the falling out as well, but still stayed friends with sana. however, she was your friend before she met sana, so she had made sure if it was alright to keep contact and whatnot. of course you didn’t want your own personal problems to get in between other friendships, and you still loved sana despite everything that had happened so you gave dahyun the green light.  
after running to dahyun the same night of the argument with sana, you cried for an hour or two in her room. this was the first time you turned to someone other than sana, and dahyun had been on your side of the whole situation, making it easier to comfort and reassure you. she also disliked chris, but not as much as she liked you. 
she pretty much agreed with everything you had ranted about and thought it was stupid that sana would rather choose that asshole over someone like you, and later on you’d confess that you were in love with sana to dahyun. when everything had been rocky with sana, dahyun had been by your side, and you were grateful for that. 
“well, maybe you’ll land yourself a kiss under the mistletoe, who knows who’ll be showing up to your christmas party.” dahyun nudges you, smiling as she hands you some peppermint chocolate bark treat. “i could always set you up~” 
“it’s fine, really.” you guarantee. a smile spreads across your face and you dismiss her offer with a wave of your hand. “um, by the way… has um, has she stopped by or anything like that recently? does sana still visit—" 
there’s another ring from the door opening that cuts you off, making dahyun’s attention redirect towards the customer walking in. her eyes widen and she pauses in place before smiling awkwardly, then she mumbles an uneasy “um, be back…” before walking over to the register. 
you don’t think much of her weird mood shift and instead swirl around the small remainder of coffee in the latte cup. 
“hi dahyun! it’s nice to see you again.” a voice beams.  
you freeze in place, all of your body tensing up as soon as the familiar voice processes through your ears. it’s smooth, it’s sweet, and it has that same high-pitched ring and giggle that follows. immediately, your heartbeat spikes and you’re doing anything you can to avoid interacting or even looking in the woman’s direction. 
“it’s nice to see you too sana,” dahyun greets with a bubbly tone. the name being uttered from dahyun’s mouth is enough to make your hands grip the cup in your hand a little tighter. “can i get you anything?”  
“hm… i’ll have that peppermint mocha please. i’m also going to take a look around the bakery, i need to grab some treats for others. you know how it is, holidays and whatnot.” sana says in that adorable tone, it has you falling for her all over again just when you thought you’d gotten over everything that’s happened. 
quickly, you finish the last sip of your coffee before setting the empty cup down abruptly. it makes a small yet noticeable sound with the glass plate it had been sitting on, making sana advert her gaze.  
the small gift you had set down beside you is now placed on the glass that covers the display of christmas themed cakes. dahyun looks at you in confusion and tilts her head before you turn to smile at her, avoiding sana’s widening eyes. 
“thanks for the coffee dahyun, take the present on the glass to your mom—it’s from my mom to yours.” you start, trying to keep your voice level 
every ounce of restraint and discipline is fighting back the urge to simply glance at sana, who’s standing right in front of dahyun. you almost manage to avoid her, but it’s inevitable, your eyes land on your first love for the first time in almost two years. 
she’s looking at you with parted lips and surprise, but she still looks as beautiful as you remember. sana looks a little more mature than when you last saw her; the curve of her jaw is sharper, lips somehow brighter and her features are more defined overall. sana is wearing a scarf that fits around her neck comfortably, a brown, fluffy sweater, and dark sweatpants with uggs to compliment the outfit. there’s simplicity in her look—she’s jaw dropping, the sight of her makes your jaw tighten and heartbeat spike.  
her eyes meet yours for exactly three seconds, enough time to have every memory flowing in. 
clearing your throat, you finish your farewell to dahyun with a smile, “i’ll see you around, my mom says hi to your mom, tell her i also said hi too. i’ll get going now, have a good one.” 
your body doesn’t fight back the urge to glance at sana again—big mistake—before turning around and walking out the door. 
sana keeps her look on you the whole time, baffled to see you here and her own heart yearns for you. she’s missed you more than you’d ever know, and more than she’d like to admit. it doesn’t help her case that you’re ten times more attractive than when she’d last seen you at graduation. 
“you should talk to her.” dahyun says softly. sana keeps her eye on the door, you’re already out and probably in your car, but she keeps her eye on the door still. 
“were you talking to her earlier?” sana asks, now turning to face the younger woman. 
“we were catching up.” dahyun answers. the woman behind the register turns around to start making sana’s drink, unknowingly the same drink you had ordered. it all makes dahyun’s own heart sink in her chest a bit. “how long has it been since you’ve talked to her?” 
“since graduation.” sana explains, looking down at the counter. “i messed up.” 
dahyun turns around again to see sana, sorrow and regret etching into her features. the barista frows and reaches over to place her hand on sana’s shoulder, then rubs it gently.  
“talk to her, there’s always time to fix things. especially with y/n.” 
-- 
a few days past since that meeting, you’re still shaken up from it to say the least.  
sana is too, but you aren’t aware of that. 
to stray away from this event that is dreadfully close to leading to some form of existential crisis or spiral, you’re helping your mom out with setting up the last few decorations and tables while your cookies that you chilled a couple days ago bake.  
dahyun is also coming over with her girlfriend in the evening to exchange a couple of greetings and to properly introduce her girlfriend tzuyu to you. your mother had met tzuyu before and talked highly about her, so you were excited to meet her yourself.  
when the time comes, you hear a knock at the door and shoot up to answer it. you open the door and dahyun stands there with a nervous grin on her face. next to her stands tzuyu—and sana.  
your eyes widen and your jaw tenses when you see her perfect face, standing next to tzuyu with this awkward smile. she’s wearing a gray pullover and black sweatpants; an orange scarf also wraps around her neck comfortably. she looks snug and cute as ever, no matter what she’s adorable in your eyes. your heart flutters and you get all nervous like a teenager again. 
pushing away the edginess flowing throughout your whole being, you greet dahyun with a warm hug, then give tzuyu and friendly one as well. you’re not sure how to greet sana, being all shaken up by just her presence, so you resort to a smile and a small “hi sana,” then invite them all in. 
sana walks in and her hand brushes against your arm on accident, the two of you definitely notice it—though you both decide to ignore it and the warmth in your chests.  
your mom greets all the girls with a hug and the five of you sit down in your homey living room. sana sits across from you on the couch next to your mom, and you sit there avoiding eye contact as you all catch up. 
an hour passes by and dahyun is over in the living room talking to your mom about what’s been going on with her parents and the bakery. in the meantime, you decide to give yourself a break from feeling all nervous just by being near sana. 
standing up, you announce, “i’m going to the kitchen for a bit.” your mom simply raises her brows at your sudden departure, you’ve been silent for most of the conversation and it seems like you’re the only one affected by the tension in the room. “won’t be long.” you add, smiling weakly. 
the fridge is still full of some essentials, and to the side, there’s some cold brew and your favorite coconut milk; everything you need is right where you need it. you head over to the counter and grab your favorite glass cup, heart stinging at the memory of when you had received it. it was one of the many gifts from sana. 
you grab some ice and put it in the cup, then add your cold brew inside. then you grab a small cup with some honey and search for a spoon so you can mix it in with the coconut milk. 
“drinking coffee at this time?” a voice says, making you freeze. you break out of your short trance and hum in response before continuing to make your drink. 
“you know i can’t resist a good coffee, sana.” and the way her name slips off your tongue feels right. you haven’t said it often since the falling out and it still rolls off perfectly, it feels right coming from you. you’re hesitant to talk again, feeling her eyes drill into your back. something in your heart shifts and you manage to ask, “did you want something to drink?” 
“yeah,” she answers, walking over to you and sitting at the kitchen island. “same thing you’re drinking, but sweeter.” 
of course she wants it sweet, just like always.  
“okay.”  
your back is still turned towards sana and she watches you grab another glass. as you do so, she gets a glimpse of your own glass and smiles. “is that the cup i got you?”  
still fixing up her drink, you nod and answer, “yeah. it’s my favorite.” 
“a lot of your gifts are my favorites too.” she admits, her voice so soft and fragile that you’re scared the thick tension in the air might break it. 
sana watches you turn around, but you still avoid her gaze. you place both cups on the surface of the kitchen island and begin to pour the coconut milk mixtures into the coffee. the liquids swirl as they combine, creating a satisfying view. sana’s quick to redirect her attention back to you, staring at your face again. 
last time she had saw you at dahyun’s cafe, she only had the chance to get a simple glance at your features, not enough time to fully take in everything that’s changed about your apperance. there’s two new piercings on both ears and a new, small tattoo below your ear; the length of your hair is also noticeably longer. your lips part as you swirl both cups in your hands around, and then you take a quick glance to the side, allowing sana to admire your side profile and the unique curve of your nose and lips. 
you hold the mug out for her and finally meet her eyes again. sana’s favorite thing about you were your eyes, they’re still as pretty as she remembers.  
it’s some thursday night during your sophomore year of high school, you were supposed to be studying with sana for your math quiz tomorrow, but she had other ideas.  
“stay still,” sana mumbles softly. 
she situates you in the chair near her desk and tilts your head up with the fingers holding your chin. she’s inches away from you as she puts some sort of sponge on your face, brows creasing as she does so. your heart is racing. 
after a couple of minutes, sana finishes up your makeup. she’s done some type of natural look on you, nothing too heavy or bold. you look at yourself through the mirror and take a moment to examine sana’s doings. as you do so, sana can’t keep her eyes off you. 
something in her heart shifts as she admires you. her eyes land on your lips, they’re oddly alluring, and sana’s cheeks burn. 
“sana you’re staring… do i look weird?” 
“no,” she practically breathes out, mouth slightly agape. “you’re beautiful.” she says breathlessly, her expression turning all serious it makes you giggle awkwardly. 
there have been many moments where sana has found you pretty, not just physically. your small gifts and reassurance have made her heart flutter, but she’s always figured that was just because she loved you deeply as a friend. but when you stare at her with those eyes in this moment, she’s so surprised by everything she feels. she's giddy and happy and warm inside and gosh her heart wants to jump out her chest and cling onto you. she's not opposed to the feeling; she always has this feeling aorunf you and she loves it. that's why she’s always around you in the first place. 
her face burns and you’re gazing at her all confused, you look so cute. 
growing nervous from how non-verbal sana has been, you try to shake her out of her trance. “hey, you’re scaring me. earth to sana? hellooooo…?” 
“how are you so pretty all the time.” sana’s eyes soften and her whole body relaxes as she rests her head on her palm. “like, your face is so perfect and your eyes… god y/n, whoever gets to be with you would be so lucky, seriously. like, you’re honestly the prettiest girl in our school, how do you not have a boyfriend?” 
your cheeks flush from the abrupt compliment, so you push her gently and giggle. sana giggles along with you, still star-struck. you’re both young and unknowingly in love with each other—giggles and teasing seem to be the only way to hide that. 
sana has always found you attractive, after all these years she still hasn’t figured out why she made the mistake of pursuing chris instead of the person who was always there for her—and ten times prettier. you’ve always been right there, she’s a fool for looking right past you. 
sana grabs the mug, still making eye contact with you and both your eyes soften at the same time. 
“y/n i’m sorry.” she says immediately, “i messed up really bad and—” 
“sana,” you cut her off, “just enjoy the drink.” she watches you smile at her, it’s genuine and small, still enough to calm her nerves. you grab your glass and walk towards the door to the porch, tilting your head and urging her to come follow. sana figures she could pour her heart out later, if it were on the porch it wouldn’t be the first time she’s poured out her emotions there.  
the two of you find a seat across from each other, the fairy lights above create some type of ambiance to ease the tension that’s hanging in the air like an invisible cloak of some sort, suffocating the two of you with its unease. 
“how have you been?” sana asks. it’s cliché, but what else was she supposed to say?  
you don’t look up from the drink in your hand when you respond, “good, you?”  
“likewise.” sana lies, her jaw clenching.  
“you know,” you begin, and with intent, your eyes meet her face and she’s doing the same as you had been doing before; she simply sits there with the drink in her hand, looking quite on edge. “i figured if i were to see you again like this, chris would be with you.”  
“we broke up three months after we moved in together.” sana says quietly, “i broke up with him.” 
“sana…” you mumble quietly, surprised to say the least. “why— what?” 
“i ruined everything between you and i because i was so blinded by his affection, i couldn’t stay with him anymore with guilt clawing at me.” she explains, her voice breaking slightly. “and i couldn’t bring myself to talk to you after hurting you. losing you was the biggest mistake of my life. god, it took everything in me to come back to you.” 
“you never lost me sana,”  
“i’m just… sorry for everything, i really am.” she says sincerely, “and i don’t think enough words could really explain how sorry i am.” 
you look at her with pity, and despite her coldness towards you during the last semester of your senior year, you decide to let everything go. she’s your best friend after all, you promised yourself to be there. 
“it’s okay.” you say, it’s not the truth, but it’s not a lie either. “it was my fault too for letting the distance between us get larger.” 
“don’t say that, it’s not your fault.” sana sighs. she takes a sip of the coffee, it’s good, of course— everything you’ve ever made for her has been great. “i only stayed with chris because i was scared. that’s why it was so easy for me to leave everyone i loved behind, i think.” 
“scared? …of what?” 
she looks dead into your eyes and exhales, “i realized that, that maybe i was with chris because i was trying to push down how i felt about you.” 
you tilt your head in confusion, then begin to pry, “sana what do you mean—" 
“y/n, i was falling for you and it terrified me. i mean, i loved you, and honestly, i think i still do. i'm so fucking dumb, god i'm just oblivious.” sana says, then immediately, your heart rate spikes and your brows raise. she continues while fidgeting with her fingers, “i guess it’s easier to admit now because we’ve grown distant, and physically we’re distant enough. chris treated me alright and loved me, but i came crying to you all the time because he never treated me like how i wanted you to treat me, i don’t know why i did that. i don’t know why i let myself go through that when i had you. every time i’d kiss him i wished it were you, every time we did anything honestly.” 
sana's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, their glossy shine failing to hide the immense emotions she was desperately trying to suppress. the weight of her confession hung in the air, causing the entire world to momentarily freeze. it felt as though time itself had paused, giving you a moment to absorb the magnitude of her words. 
sana loved you, and she still does. you loved her, and you still do.  
but really, you can’t. you can’t go through with this. it’s too sudden, so unorganized and uncertain. 
all of this is a recipe for disaster. 
the echo of her vulnerability reverberated through the atmosphere, your mind spun in a cyclone of emotions. thoughts collided and collided again like football players during some game, leaving your head in a dizzying state of confusion, the sheer intensity of it all was jarring, leaving you all disoriented. the feelings you suppressed were finding their way back out, and you found yourself teetering on the precipice of vulnerability once again, just as you did years ago. 
finding out that sana loved you still gave you hope, but the revelation also made you uneasy. it had been too long without sana, and so much had happened, so there was the chance that things would be all rocky. besides, it’s just too sudden. 
“i’m— sorry for dumping all of this, i just wanted to give you closure because… well, i should’ve given you it years ago.” a tear streams down her eye as she says this, and then she begins to stand. “i should leave, i’m sorry for not letting you know i was coming— god i’m so sorry.” 
“sana wait—” you start, grabbing her wrist. she looks into your eyes, her’s are still glossy. you decide it’s better to let her go for now, unsure if this is the last time you’ll see her after this—hopefully not. “it’s okay, just… be careful. you know i’m always here, always sha.” 
the nickname that you made up for her makes her heart crack a little, she can only smile back at you for now. 
— 
the conversation between dahyun, tzuyu, and your mom is interrupted when dahyun catches the sight of sana pulling her scarf off the hook and wrapping it around her neck again. she takes account of the slight flush of her nose and cheeks, as well as her water-lined eyes. 
“you’re leaving?” dahyun asks, concern clear in her tone. sana simply smiles and nods, “yeah, i’ll see you at the holiday party. it was nice seeing you too miss l/n, i missed all of this.” 
“you’re always welcome honey,” your mother assures, “where’s y/n?” 
“out on the porch, she said she’ll be back in a bit. i’ll see you all, thank you.” sana says before departing, leaving the three women in the living room perplexed. 
a few minutes later whilst the three in the living room conjure up theories of what had happened while you and sana had been gone—you appear with a blank expression. you sit down next to your mom and lean against her, not saying a word. 
tzuyu (who is only briefly caught up with whatever had happened between you and sana, and she deinfitely needs a thorough presentation on your history) looks at dahyun and tilts her head, dahyun simply shakes her own head. 
“sana and i talked a bit, resolved and made things clear.” you say, answering the elephant in the room. “i’m heading up, i’m getting sleepy and i want to have some energy for the party tomorrow.” you add. “it was nice getting to know you tzuyu, you’re perfect for the idiot beside you. night everyone.” chuckling quietly in between responses. 
and with that you’re walking up the stairs to your room, leaving your mom, tzuyu, and dahyun perplexed yet again. 
december 25th, five o’clock pm. 
you're greeting guests, various familiar faces and their parents, family friends, and whoever else you mom managed to fit on the list. 
the party is lively, with people scattered in the backyard and on the little porch while your dad grills his signature bbq meats. your mom laughs with her friends as she sips on her wine, moving her hands around as she talks to emphasize her little life updates. 
in the basement with you are your old high school friends: momo, her cousin mina, jaehyun, mark, johnny, seulgi, sooyoung, jeongyeon, and dahyun, who’s accompanied by tzuyu. the rest of your frineds couldn’t make it, they were probably out of town. all of them sit on the floor or couch with a can of smirnoff or soda, all chatting and laughing over old memories. 
you lean against jaehyun as you laugh, letting yourself hide behind his shoulder while mark ruthlessly brings up each embarrassing phase you’ve had. what a guy, a guy you’ll be figthing soon if he keeps this up. 
the feeling of your phone ringing against your palm as you hold it catches your attention, directing you from the conversation at hand. the screen shows a call from “mom♡” which earns a confused look. you answer the call, cupping the phone so you can hear her better as you answer. 
“hello? did you need something?” 
“hey honey, would you mind coming out for a bit? someone wants to see you.” 
“someone?” you ask, “one of your friends or...?” 
“just come on out sweetie.” she insistts. 
“okay okay, whatever you say.” you respond before ending the call and starting to get up. jaehyun looks up at you with a quirked brow as he sips on his drink. you look back and shrug, “my mom wants me to meet ‘someone,’ probably one of her friends or something. i won’t be long.” you respond to him and let the others know. 
"alright, take your time," jaehyun says with a nod, setting his drink down. "hopefully, it won't be too boring," he adds with a small smirk, teasing you gently. you roll your eyes playfully in response before grabbing your jacket and heading towards the sliding door.  
you were right about the guess on seeing your mom's friend, or—friends. however, the sudden chill you get when seeing the minatozaki’s on the porch makes you tense up.  
they're standing there, glasses of wine in their hands as they look at you. sana's mom has a smile on her face, so does her dad. you walk up to them and try to shake off your nerves, fully hugging sana’s mom and giving sana’s dad a side hug. 
“it’s been a while hasn’t it?” sana’s mom says, putting her hand on your shoulder and grinning. “it’s wonderful to see you again.” 
“likewise.” you respond, melting into relaxation the more you get used to this atmosphere. “how have you all been?” 
after a tense reunion with sana’s parents, they find out about your ambitions and what you’ve been up to. not much is mentioned about the falling out between you and their daughter, but the thought most definitely lingers in the cold, winter air.  
sana's parents tell you about an internship she earned at a hospital her first year, saying they’re proud of her for helping others and the bonus of the nice paycheck that came with the experience. they tell you she’s found herself a guaranteed transfer to your school and that she’s excited to help even more people in the nursing program. it sounds like sana’s a great person, she’s always wanted to help others, it makes you smile and nod as her parents update you on what she’s been up to. 
but there’s this feeling of uncertainty and sorrow brewing. the fact that you have to hear about sana from anyone but her breaks you a bit, knowing that the two of you wouldn’t hesitate to update each other back then. now, it seems like you’re missing a chunk of memories that you could’ve shared with sana. 
“we asked her to come to the party.” mr. minatozaki says, looking at you with a sympathetic smile. “she said she’d consider it.” 
“oh, i see.” you respond, nodding whilst looking at the ground.  
part of you is glad that she’s not here, but who are you kidding, there would never be a time where you’d be dissapointed to catch her near you, despite the paranoia taking over. 
“well, it’s nice to catch up y/n. we've missed you, it’s great to see how well you’re doing. your parents must be proud.” mr. minatozaki concludes, looking at you with admiration. 
“yeah, thanks.” you say, “well, i'll leave you to talk to my parents, but i'll stop by again to talk to you two. it's really nice to catch up, i've missed you guys too, and your wonderful dinners.” you add jokingly, earning a laugh from the couple. 
sana's mom kisses your temple and hugs you, then lets you walk back into the house. 
it seems like this whole night has been full of surprises—scratch that, at this point, everything is a surprise ever since you've been back in town. especially now, because once you step into the kitchen, there’s a familiar woman who’s making your knees weak all over again. 
“y/n, hey.” sana greets softly, smiling at you. 
she's just hung up her scarf on the little hook near the fridge, the same place she’d always hang it back then. there was this unspoken rule that when sana was here, there were certain spaces that belonged to her; the hook near the fridge, the chair at the dining table closest to the living room, the right side of your bed, and the left side of the couch in the basement.  
still, you’re pissed at the fact she had practically cut you off completely over a boy just to come back years later to win you back. it irritated you how easy it was for sana to convince you, but you were much angrier at the thought of her coming back to see you because her and chris didn’t work out. was she serious about the breakup? was that all it took to forget that she had caused so much mental turmoil? 
despite this, her being in your house again and seeing her at this christmas party like years before; everything reminds you of the fact that sana had always lingered in your home. 
“hey, didn’t think you’d make it.” you respond, watching her shrug. 
“my parents said your signature cookies are here, i had to.” 
can't be the only reason, you want to mumble, but your lips stay sealed. 
sana speaks again, “i stole a couple, ate some earlier actually. still as great as i remembered.” 
“thanks.” you mutter, walking over to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. “did you want to talk about something?” 
“what do you mean?” 
“there’s a reason you came, and i know it’s for me since you’re not in the basement with everyone else. we both know that’s the signature spot.” 
sana cringes at your tone, but gives in. 
“i just wanted to see you, and hopefully talk to you normally.” 
it's taking everything in you to hold your ground, to protect yourself from this sudden appearance that’s making you all uneasy again. you can’t let sana screw you up again with a simple visit, you can’t. 
“i know you’re sorry but sana, you treated me so terribly. do you know how much i cried? how fucking terrible i felt after losing my friend of years to chris?” you seethe, sighing. “part of me wants to start over, maybe try again—but how can i do that when there’s the chance of you throwing away everything, we rebuild over another stupid fucking guy.” 
she looks at you with guilt in her eyes, her shoulders sinking and words jumbling in her throat.  
“y/n, nothing—no one, despite what i've done to you, will ever make me forget how much i love you. there's always a space in my heart for you.” 
you scoff, anger flowing throughout you now, then walk over to her. she stands against the frame of the entrance, you stand in front of her now, looking down slightly. sana's looking at you directly in the eye, you can see the hurt and regret in her eyes; her look brings you back to your senses. 
“how do i know you’re not bluffing? sana, every ounce of me wants to redo this.” your voice cracks slightly, the hurt evident in your tone.  
“you just have to trust me, i'm sorry, i'm really sorry.” 
you feel like curling up into a ball and hiding, the way your chest tightens makes you want to cry a bit. 
the party ends around one in the morning, considering the fact that some of the attendants are adults that don’t have the energy to party until the sunrises.  
jaehyun’s just crossed the line, now slurring his words and laughing stupidly while he gets touchy with the guys, so mark ends up driving him home. johnny catches a ride with seulgi and sooyoung. with them gone, you’re in the basement with momo, mina, dahyun, and tzuyu. all five of you end the night with some recollections of memories, momo’s recent date, mina’s annoying professor, and before you know it you all are hugging goodbye. 
you've already gone through three cans of the smirnoff cans, it hadn’t done much except make you a little more giggly and talkative. you were a little tipsy, that was all. 
throughout the night, tzuyu and dahyun exchange glances, their eyes meeting repeatedly, dahyuns hand rubbing tzuyu’s thigh, and the little smiles they give each other. all of it doesn’t go unnoticed – at least by you – and hints at the potential for something you don’t want to think of in detail once they return home.  
as you observe their subtle interactions, a pang of envy stirs within you, longing for that same allure and anticipation. amidst the swirling emotions, a sense of emptiness creeps in, amplified by the beers you’ve had. you're left to ponder on what’s making you feel hollow, still feeling bad after raising your voice at sana earlier. 
you can’t feel bad, you shouldn’t. whatever you did wasn’t comparable to her practically pretending you didn’t exist for almost two years. 
after rolling your eyes and saying some stupid joke to dahyun and tzuyu – the last to leave the house – you head back to the basement.  
of course, sana had to be sitting on the couch, head turned towards the tv as she sipped on a beer.  
“hey.” you mutter, earning her attention as she turns away from the christmas movie you paused earlier. 
“hi.” sana greets. 
every ounce of anger, irritation, and dread had been squeezed out your body at the sight of her. you genuinely think it’s the alcohol that’s making you rethink everything, making it hard to fight back that voice in your head that’s trying to stay reserved and petty. 
sana sits there, her gaze fixed on you with intensity. her glasses are perched on her nose, a familiar sight whenever she's engrossed in watching tv or anything like that. the sight only adds to her charm, making her look even more adorable. you can't help but notice her favorite cardigan draped over her shoulders – the fluffy, white knit cardigan she adores so much –it's a cherished gift from your mother, and she's held onto it all these years. her eyes bore into yours, drilling into your skull and compelling you to plop down beside her as if nothing had ever transpired between you. you surrender, maybe it’s the late hours of the night, maybe the beer, o rmaybe just sana. 
(it’s probably just sana.) 
she turns back to the movie playing, some stupid romcom jaehyun had put on as background noise. 
your eyes trace the curve of her nose, lingering on her lips and the impeccable contour of her jawline as she remains fixated on the tv screen. her side profile captivates you for a moment, holding you in some sort of spell until she breaks the silence with her soft voice. 
“i think our parents are playing card games in the kitchen.”  
“probably betting money too.” 
“remember when your dad took your christmas money for their game?” sana asks, giggling at the memory. her eyes are still fixed on the screen, you decide to tune into the movie too. “didn’t he lose too?” 
“yeah.” you sigh, sinking into the couch. “he paid me back double the next day though.” 
“so it was worth it?” 
“yeah, i think we went out to eat with that money.” 
sana turns to gaze at you, her eyes tracing the soft contours of your profile in the dimly lit room. the glow from the tv accentuates her favorite features of yours, and she finds herself lost in the sight before her. for a while, she simply stares, allowing the comfortable silence to envelop the moment.  
you turn to look at her now, you two just stare at each other for a while more. 
“maybe we can try again.” you mumble, giving into the beauty in front of you. “every part of me is against the idea.” 
“that’s understandable.” sana agrees. she sighs before adding, “you don’t have to try again.” 
“i know.” you assure, “but i think we should.” 
“i’m sorry.” 
“i know, sana.”  
as the music from the tv fills the room, silence once again settles between you and sana. you know that you can't let this opportunity slip away – it's everything you've wanted, and deep down, you realize it's everything you've needed too.  
there's a mistletoe that’s hung above the two of you, it’s been there the whole time, both of you were aware of it. it dangles from the light tantalizingly, but neither of you do anything about it. neither you or sana even mention it. your mind races to the memory of dahyun and tzuyu kissing each other under it and part of you wants to kiss sana like that, but you won’t let her kiss and make up. 
you reach out, your fingers gently intertwining with hers. you lift her hand to your lips, feeling the warmth of her skin against your own. softly, you press a kiss upon the back of her hand, you linger in the intimacy of the gesture. 
the two of you sit there for a moment, letting the world around you two fade away. 
everything about the moment renders you weak. you think to yourself that maybe, just maybe, a second chance is enough to patch things up. if it’s with sana, then maybe it’s worth it. 
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megalony · 2 days
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She's Not Here- Part 2
This is the second part in this Evan Buckley mini series, thank you all for the amazing feedback on part one. I had so much fun writing this next part and I hope you will all like it.
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Evan Buckley Masterlist
Summary: While Evan is on a long weekend at work, (Y/n) takes their girls out with their family. Things don't go to plan when something happens to one of their daughters.
Enjoy.
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"Buck!" He shrugged off Eddie's touch and bolted from the table, checking his pockets for his phone and his wallet. He needed to find his keys from his locker and leave. He had to get down there and get in that shopping centre. Evan needed to scout round every inch of that building. Every corner, every crevace, every hidden crook and cranny, he needed to look round them all. He needed to watch and search every person who tried to leave and every car needed to be stopped and checked. "Buck what's going on?" "One of my daughters is missing."
"Where's my daughter?" Anger, agony and pure, unrivalled chaos burst to life in Evan's voice.
His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his shoulders hunched up near his neck and his chest puffed out with a deep breath that made him feel like he was about to combust.
He could feel his phone burning a hole in his back pocket. He had been spammed with messages from Bobby, Maddie, both his parents but nothing from (Y/n). All he wanted was for her to tell him that they found Minnie, hidden away in some corner or wandering off with someone from another station in a similar uniform to his.
Evan would settle for being told Minnie had been taken by a stranger but someone had found her and brought her back to safety.
His phone was locked but there was the most recent picture of Minnie that he had, waiting to be shown to any security guard or police officer who needed it. He was ready to show his picture to everyone he passed and demand they find his little girl.
He could see the officer's eyes raking him up and down, assessing whether or not Evan was actually the dad of the missing girl. But the fury in his eyes gave it away and told him if he refused to let Evan inside that shopping centre, they would have a bigger situation out here.
"Name?" His voice held a small waver as he looked up at Evan who was a good few metres taller than him. They had to be certain.
"Evan Buckley. Where's my daughter, have you found her yet?"
"We haven't located her yet… Seargent, I have Mr Buckley on his way in." He waved for Evan to follow him and headed inside the shopping centre entrance.
Evan followed closely behind, his irritation growing with each passing second. How long had his daughter been missing? Was she alright? Was someone with her? Was Minnie wandering this place- or God forbid, the streets, all alone? No. Someone would have seen her wandering alone, they would have stopped her, questioned her, tried to help her or look after her. No one would let her get far on her own.
Someone had to be with her, whether they were a friend or an enemy. Evan didn't like either option.
"Then where's my wife?"
"Right this way."
As they walked down the wide hall, Evan let his eyes dart around him. Shops were still open. People were still fluttering in and out. But out of the shops, in the middle of the centre, people were confined to the sides. They were told to walk in single file and stay close close to the wall. No one could wander or flutter about the middle of the floor. They needed clear views of every angle to find Minnie.
Security were posted near every shop, not letting people in or out if they had a child.
Evan shuddered when he heard an announcement rattle through the speakers that almost deafened him.
"If anyone sees a little girl, Minnie Buckley, three years old. Wearing a purple flower dress, white tights and red shoes with a Disney headband on, they should stop her and alert security immediately."
That gave Evan some sort of hint, at least now he knew what she was wearing. The last time he saw any of his girls had been Friday morning when he kissed Minnie and Evie goodbye and dropped Lois and Ellie at school. He had spoken to them last night to say goodnight when they went to bed, but he hadn't seen them. He didn't know what they were wearing, what hairstyles they had today or what their plans had been for today.
Evan saw his family before the officer got close to them.
He bypassed the shorter man and started into a run, pelting down the hall until every set of eyes were on him and people started to panic that he was the culpret with Minnie.
There they were. His mother, sat with an arm around Maddie, both of them red-eyed and looking down at the table as if it would somehow give them the answers they wanted. The blushing pink pram he recognised was next to his mother and he figured his youngest girl was swaddled away in there. He prayed she was.
When his eyes set on (Y/n), he could feel his heart breaking all over again. He felt his heart impale itself on his ribs, wanting to bleed out and commit his body to the ground then and there.
She was sat with her forehead propped up on her hand, her arm trembling, her upper body hunched over the table. Tears streaked down her face, trembles set in all across her body sending her shoulders rocking back and forth.
"Daddy!" Ellie, who had been sat with her chair pulled as close to (Y/n)'s as she could, ripped out of her mother's arms and bolted from the table. Even as she heard her mum cry out and hear her aunt gasp in panic, she bolted across the polished floor.
As soon as she bolted, Lois looked up, located Evan and subsequently set off into a run for him too.
Evan crouched down and held his arms out, scooping the pair of them up, one in each arm until they were cocooned into his chest. He smothered his lips against Ellie's temple, then kissed Lois's cheek as he stood up to his full height and lifted the girls up. Their arms circled around his neck and held him so tightly he couldn't breathe, but he didn't want to.
Evan didn't want to blink, breathe, move or eat or scream until Minnie was back. He didn't want to carry on dwindling through the minutes, the hours, the days. He wanted everything to stop until his third daughter was here and safe in his arms.
"I'm here. It's okay, it's okay girls, I'm here." He nuzzled his face into Lois's hair and took a second to breathe deeply and hold them as close as he could. He wanted them encased into his chest, hidden behind his ribs with his heart so he could keep them safe.
He started walking forwards, the girls in his arms, until he reached the table they were all sat at.
Security were posted around them, police officers were filtering in and out of the food court and milling about the place, trying to set up a plan to search and locate Minnie. If she was even still in the centre at all. But at least the food court had been evacuated. Only their family was in here with the officers, somewhere they could sit and wait in agony but with some sense of privacy.
Evan carefully eased Lois down into a chair and set Ellie on her feet next to her and he took the time to kiss their foreheads again and whisper that it was okay. Because he would make sure of it. Evan would do anything within his power to make sure everything turned out okay.
Tears burned in the corners of his eyes and his heart started to falter and skip a few beats when he crouched down in front of (Y/n).
He nudged her knees to the side and crouched between her thighs that caged him in and grounded him to her. His hands feathered up and down her thighs until she looked at him.
A single tear jumped free from the end of her nose and Evan could see the tracks slithered down her face from how badly she had been crying.
Why did he go in this weekend?
When Maddie texted, why didn't he just talk to Bobby and try and get today off? Why didn't he try harder to get off work earlier today so he could be here with them? Minnie might not have wandered- or someone might not have taken her, if Evan had been with them.
"She's s-still not here." (Y/n) brushed her sleeve against her nose and beneath her eyes to try and stop her face from feeling so tight and taut.
But when she looked back down at Evan, she could feel another tidal wave washing over her. She reached her arms out and wrapped them around his neck and slid forward until she almost fell off her chair and onto his lap. She felt him push upwards so they were level and he let her head slump onto his shoulder.
His arm circled around her waist and pulled her tightly into his chest while his right hand moved to cup the back of her neck. He smothered his lips against her temple and brushed her hair back behind her ear.
"We're gonna find her, okay? We're gonna go find her and take all our girls home."
(Y/n) brushed her nose against Evan's neck and tried to take a deep breath, but all she could do was wheeze and croak small, shallow gulps of air. Having him here made a difference, though. She could feel her heartbeat thinning out, it wasn't throbbing in her temple or pulsing beneath her skin anymore. She could close her eyes for a few seconds now, instead of look around and try not to blink in case she missed a potential sight of her baby girl.
She could feel Evan's fingers gliding up and down her back and she stayed tucked up into his chest, pressing her face as close to his neck as she could until she could feel his thundering heartbeat.
He kissed the side of her head and spared a glance over at his mum and sister. This wasn't how he wanted to meet with their mum. He hadn't seen her in over six months. The last thing Evan wanted was to meet under horrific, uncertain circumstances like this. And he hated to see Maddie in such a state of distress.
She was usually the epitomy of calm and collected. She stayed calm all those years she was with Doug. She put on a brave face for Evan, trying not to let him see what was going on and how frightened or hurt or uncertain she felt. When Maddie was at work, she remained calm even when the 118 were involved in collisions or dangerous situations. She powered through and helped them.
Not today. Today, his sister was crying, rocking back and forth and about to have a panic attack because where was her niece? Where was that little toddler who brightened up a room and made everyone smile, no matter what mood they were in? How had someone managed to get away with her? How had she slipped away from them in less than three minutes without someone stopping her or seeing or noticing?
How did something like this happen?
"Buck. (Y/n)."
Evan lifted his head and he felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest when he looked across the food court and saw his mother in law. Athena. Just the person they needed in a crisis like this to help them through it and find their little girl.
"Here we go, baby. We'll find her now, hm?" Evan's hands moved to cup (Y/n)'s face and he gently lifted her head from his shoulder so he could look up at her. He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, tasting the saltwater tears tracing across his tongue.
His hands moved down to her waist and he helped her up and let her lean into him when he noticed her knees were close to giving way.
"It's nanny Nash." Ellie murmured quietly but when she tried to get up, Evan reached an arm out and gently nudged her to sit down on the same chair as Lois. He shook his head when she started to whine and his stern expression and broken eyes told her not to try and see Athena. Not yet.
"I want you both to stay here where I can see you. Do not move away from this table, at all. You understand?"
Both girls meekly nodded and stayed cuddled together, squished on the green plastic chair opposite their nan and aunt. And Lois turned to her left and leaned to look in the pram, checking her youngest sister was still asleep and okay.
Evan couldn't have either of the girls coming over and talking to Athena, not when she was here on business to find Minnie. And he didn't want them leaving this table. He knew security was gathered around and every exit was watched and under lockdown, but he didn't want them moving. He needed all his girls where he could see them so he didn't have to panic about losing another girl.
His arms curled around (Y/n)'s waist and he pulled her back up against his chest with his lips against the back of her head. They headed over towards Athena and as soon as they were within reach, Athena reached out and gripped (Y/n)'s hand.
She could see the panic and the fear swirling within her step-daughter's eyes and her face was a bundle of emtions too vast and too many to reason with.
"Okay honey, I've been on the phone to your dad, he's on his way down here now. And he's going to do a quick canvas of the streets, just as a precaution. The officers have run me through the timeline and what's happened."
She gave (Y/n)'s hand a tight squeeze and ran her other hand up and down her arm. Athena had been in this situation hundreds of times, consoling parents, calming them down. Telling them everything was going to be okay. She had seen parents reuinited with their children and watched others fall apart when their children were never found or the worst outcome happened.
But a case like this had never been personal. She had never had a missing child be someone in her own family; one of her granddaughters, no less.
"What do we do now? No one's found her and this place is on lockdown, I'll go roam the streets if I need to, what's the plan?" Evan knew his mother in law would have a plan.
She was experienced in these situations and she knew the best course of action, but Evan wasn't a fan of waiting around. And they all knew if Athena tried to tell him not to help or get involved, he would go against her wishes anyway.
He would drive round the streets and look for her, he would scour the whole city if he had to. Someone just needed to point him in the right direction and off he would go, looking for his baby girl.
He needed her back.
"Just, try and stay calm Buck, please. I want you both to come with me to the security office so we can find her on the cameras and track her movements. That will tell us whether she is still in the centre, and if she is with someone. I can't imagine she'd be on her own, not willingly and not after this place has been swarming with security."
Athena wouldn't believe Minnie would willingly wander off alone, she was too young and nervous for that. And after all the announcements, the security rattling round and now the police, if Minnie was on her own they would have found her. She had to be with someone.
Evan nodded and gave (Y/n)'s hips a squeeze. This was good. They could see who they should be looking for and where they needed to check for Minnie. It had been just less than an hour since she went missing, if they were quick they could go and get her. They hoped.
"Seargent Grant?"
Athena let go of (Y/n)'s hand and turned to the side, looking at a younger officer who was trying to wave her towards him.
But (Y/n) saw what he was holding.
She ripped out of Evan's arms, stumbled past Athena and snatched the item before he could hide it from her or try to give it to Athena in secret.
"Baby, baby what is it?"
Evan pushed forward and latched his hands onto (Y/n)'s hips again so he could look over her shoulder. His lungs quaked in his chest and he couldn't breathe. Suddenly stricken at a bundle of thoughts of what it could be. Was it part of Minnie's clothing? Was it her shoe? Was it a randsom note or a picture?
It was Minnie's headband. The one with the mouse ears stitched on and a bright red, glittering bow in the centre. The one Evan had bought for her and had last seen her wearing on Friday morning. This was their way of finding her.
They would of been able to spot her in a crowd wearing these. The security cameras would pinpoint the toddler since she wore these all day. She wore them almost every day. Since Evan put them on her head Friday morning, she only took them off to get a bath and go to sleep.
She would scream if someone tried to take them off her or knocked them off. Minnie wouldn't leave them behind or go anywhere without them.
"Evan, s-she wouldn't take them off… Oh God,"
She couldn't breathe. She couldn't move. Her eyes zoned in with tunnel vision until the glittering, blood red bow was all she could see, think and imagine.
Her baby was lost somewhere, without these. That made her so much harder to spot in a crowd. She would be crying that she had lost them. She would be crying for her parents, her sisters, her aunt, her family. Something bad had happened to her and they weren't any closer to finding her.
(Y/n) held the headband so tightly the plastic started to cut into the palm of her hand. She didn't realise her knees had caved in until Evan's arms bound tight around her middle and he wrenched her into his chest before she went down to the floor.
She deadlocked the headband to her chest, binding her arms around it until the band was almost imbedded into her skin. Her head flopped forward as she began to sob but she felt like her heart was being torn out when she felt Evan's lips against the side of her head and realised he was crying too.
"She… I…"
"Where did you find them?" Evan's eyes were full of malice when they darted over to the officer stood behind Athena.
He pulled (Y/n) closer and tried to stand up, holding her tighter when her legs continued to shake and wobble. He could feel her shoulders shaking, her wheezing, croaky breaths. And when she turned her head and pressed her face into his neck, he wanted to scream. His wife shouldn't be in this state of distress, his daughter shouldn't be missing, his other girls shouldn't be frightened and traumatised.
"Where the fuck did you get them? They belong to our daughter! Where were they?!" Evan's voice rose until he was almost shouting and he could feel his voice travelling around the walls and bouncing off the glass ceiling.
Suddenly it didn't matter if the girls heard him or if he panicked the rest of his family. All Evan cared about was finding Minnie. They had to know where her headband was found.
"On the search, just outside the East exit." He pointed to their right but he shrunk back when (Y/n) all but screamed and Athena pushed him away.
"She's gone- Evan…"
Evan turned (Y/n) around in his arms, keeping his right arm around her waist while his other hand cradled the back of her head. His fingers knotted in her hair and he smothered his wet lips against her burning temple. Tears burned his face like acid rain and he started to sway them from side to side, quietly humming and shushing her.
"No, no baby she's not gone. We're gonna find her…" His eyes lifted to lock with Athena. "Bobby's not here yet, tell him to circle around."
"I will, now we need to go and check those security cameras. She clearly isn't alone which is what we want if she's out in the streets. Let's find out which direction she's gone, when they left, and who we need to be looking for."
He curled his hand and wove his fingers into (Y/n)'s hair, gently tilting her head back from his neck so he could look down at her. He brushed his fingers delicately over the side of her face and swiped his thumb across her lower lip.
"I'm gonna get Maddie and mum to take the girls home, they're scared. That way we can stay here and find Minnie, okay?"
He didn't want the girls to have to hang around in this bad situation. They didn't need to see their parents getting distressed and panicked like this. And they didn't need to watch them flutter about this place along with the police and security, trying to find Minnie. It would be easier for them and safer if they went home and tried to calm down and get settled.
That way, (Y/n), Evan and Athena could all focus their attention on Minnie without having to worry about checking on Lois and Ellie or settling Evie for a nap or calming her down.
And a miniscule piece of Evan's heart knew he needed the girls to be away from here in case they got bad news. If they found Minnie and it wasn't good. If they watched someone snatch her on the security tapes. If they couldn't get her back.
The girls couldn't witness that.
Evan could see all the bad thoughts running round in (Y/n)'s mind through her frantic eyes that couldn't stay focused on anything. She clutched the headband like it was her lifeline. When she nodded, Evan unravelled his arms from her and left her leaning into Athena so he could go back to the table all the girls in his family were sat at.
His hands found Maddie's shoulders and he leaned over the back of her chair, hovering his lips over her ear so the girls wouldn't hear.
"They found her headband outside… someone's got her. Can you take the girls home for me, if we stay and check security tapes?"
The hairs on the back of Maddie's neck started to prickle and stand on end and a fresh wave of goosebumps rose over her skin. She could feel her blood turning cold and disappearing down to her toes that were tingling and going numb in her shoes. They found her headband. She had managed to get outside before every exit of the shopping centre had been closed. They tried to lock her in but she got out somehow. Someone took her away.
She couldn't find her voice, so she settled on nodding. Her lips pressed into a thin line to stop a frown and she swallowed down her tears, she didn't want to worry the girls anymore than this.
Evan kissed her temple and moved to crouch down beside the table, resting between the chair the girls were sat on and Maddie who was sat on his right. He leaned his right arm on the table and moved his left hand to hold Lois's trembling hand in his palm.
"I want you all to go home with aunt Maddie and gran, you don't need to be here. But me and mum need to stay and get Minnie, so you need to be good for me, okay?"
Evan rolled his lips into a thin line when Lois wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to his chest, crying out in agony. It was almost as if he'd told her he was leaving for weeks instead of hours. But then again, Evan didn't know when he or (Y/n) would be able to go back home. If they didn't find Minnie soon, would he really be okay going home without her?
He would end up roaming the streets with Bobby, sending (Y/n) home to wait with the girls. Evan couldn't go home if one of his babies was missing, he wouldn't rest or sit down without her.
"Are you sure?" Maddie rested her hand on her brother's shoulder and leaned over to kiss his temple. She knew it was the right thing to do, but her heart didn't want to leave him and (Y/n) here. She wanted to stay and help search, but she knew none of the girls would settle with Margaret or Phillip. They needed her.
"Daddy, we don't wanna go without you. Can't we stay-"
"No baby girl, you can't stay with me I'm sorry. You need to go home, Maddie's gonna look after you, you'll be safe I swear." He kissed the top of her head repeatedly and moved to do the same with Ellie. "If you need us or you just wanna talk, you just call me, okay? We'll see you soon."
It took all the strength Evan had within him to pull away from his girls and take a step back so they couldn't cling to him. Their eyes stared up at him, full of pain, fear and unshed tears that were now tracing down their cheeks.
"Call me when you get them home." He looked between his mum and sister until they both nodded. He had to know when they were home or else Evan's mind would be split between panicking about Minnie and the rest of his girls. He needed them to be safe so his focus could be on Minnie.
Moving round behind the seats, Evan leaned over the pram and kissed Evie's temple. She was taking another power nap and Evan was glad. The last thing they wanted was the toddler crying and panicking too, if she could remain calm and settled then that would be a blessing for everyone.
When he approached (Y/n), his hands found her shoulders and his lips found the back of her head. When he nodded, Athena took the lead and led them towards the lift.
They had security tapes to check.
(Y/n) couldn't keep her eyes in focus. It didn't matter how hard she tried or how she scolded herself.
Minnie needs you! Look at the screen! Find your daughter in that sea of people.
All her eyes wanted to do was go down to stare at the headband tightly crumpled up against her chest. She was holding it so tightly the plastic was starting to cut through her shirt and imbed into her sternum like she wanted to tuck it into her ribcage and keep it safe with her heart. Keep it safe for Minnie.
Her forehead pressed up against Evan's razor cut jaw and she could feel herself focusing on how his fingers were feathering up and down her hip, trying to calm her down. It was doing the trick, but it was also distracting her. She was supposed to be looking through the tapes to find Minnie, but she couldn't.
She didn't want to, in fear of what she was going to find. Who would be walking away with her daughter? Why would they be taking her away?
Had they just taken her hand and walked her out of here? Had they picked her up? Did they smother her cries or pretend she was a child having a tantrum? Did Minnie go willingly or did she put up a fight and cry out for her mum who was nowhere to be found?
All the questions sent (Y/n)'s body into spasms and trembles. And when Athena pointed out the tape that showed their group going into the clothing store, (Y/n) turned away.
She didn't want to see herself letting Minnie run off. She didn't want to see her family turn their backs for one second and have Minnie snatched away from them.
She could feel Evan leaning over her left shoulder to scrutinise the tape, watching all the girls of his family split apart and wander around in pairs.
"Slow down that tape, she went missing around that time upstairs." Athena pointed to a screen on the left. At least four other officers were crowded into the room. They were going to go through each security camera in the area, one by one, tracking Minnie's movements.
"Minnie."
Evan tilted his head to the right and kissed (Y/n)'s temple, unable to bring his eyes away from the screen Athena was looking at. There was their girl, just about to dart away from his mother when she had her back turned.
"Stop!"
Evan's eyes managed to tear from the screen and look down at (Y/n) when she jolted forward. She was looking at a different screen. One of the ones on the right in the bottom corner. Her hands lunged out and patted the screen, drawing a circle with the pad of her finger around Minnie.
The security officer sat just in front of Evan was quick to pause the tape, and all eyes went to that screen.
There she was. Hidden in plain sight. Her hair, thin as the first layer of snow and straight as a ruler until it crimped at the very ends that touched her shoulders. Her hand, gripped tightly by a young woman, not too much older than (Y/n) herself.
Minnie was leaning backwards like she was trying to pull away or wanted to turn around and run back to her family. Tears were streaked down her face and her lips were parted like she was in the middle or about to burst into a sob.
They were stood in front of an exit that led out onto the street. And right there, as the frame was paused in motion, Minnie's headband was halfway down the back of her head, about to drop onto the floor.
That exit led out onto the street. It didn't lead into the multistory carpark that belonged to the shopping centre. Maybe they were walking on foot. That would slow them down; she couldn't take Minnie far on foot. She couldn't have gotten far in the hour that Minnie had been missing, if they didn't get straight into a car, that meant there was a better chance of getting her back.
"Play it slowly, frame by frame."
She dragged her out. The woman dragged Minnie out the door like she was a child having a tantrum who she was taking back home.
No one stopped her.
How could they? If (Y/n) had been passing by, she wouldn't have the courage or the nerve to stop another woman and her child. It wasn't normal to stop women when their children were having a tantrum. Even if Minnie had been screaming that she wanted her mummy or her aunt or even her sister. People passing by would presume the woman was Minnie's guardian, her aunt or her babysitter or someone familiar rather than a stranger dragging her away.
"Where's the nearest camera after that one?"
The guard pointed at the same screen but switched the video feed to the camera posted outside the exit.
The woman swooped down, hoisted Minnie up onto her hip, and walked down the street as if nothing was wrong.
"I want all cameras down that street, any shops, any traffic cameras. Centred around half past two, find out where she went after that street. This is good, we have a suspect and a direction and they're on foot, that gives us an advantage." Athena gave (Y/n)'s hand a reassuring squeeze, but (Y/n) didn't feel so relieved.
It didn't matter that it was a woman who had taken Minnie. There were thousands of derranged, twisted women in the world. That woman could have taken Minnie because she wanted a child, it could be innocent. She could have lost a child and wanted a replacement, or thought she was looking after Minnie or saving her from something.
Or she could have chosen Minnie because she wanted to hurt her. She could be doing anything to her by now.
(Y/n) wanted her baby back this very second.
"Baby- baby wait!" A growl tore from the back of Evan's throat as he set of into a sprint when (Y/n) bolted.
She flung the door open and flew out the room with her bag bashing against her waist and Minnie's headband still clutched to her chest. She was getting her back. They were going to open the shopping centre again and let people leave now they knew for certain that Minnie wasn't in here. (Y/n) was going to leave the exact same way that woman had and try to find her. She didn't know how and she didn't care, she just wanted to find her.
Evan's hands curled into fists at his sides and he could feel Athena hot on his heels as they darted out of the room and down the corridor to the left.
His heart jumped into his throat when he watched (Y/n)'s foot slip on the top step and he cringed, biting down on his tongue at the thought of her falling down. But she regained her balance and stumbled down the stairs two at a time, flinging herself around the corner to propell down the second flight and get down to the ground floor.
All the air got caught at the back of (Y/n)'s throat when she stumbled onto the ground floor and felt a hand curl around her upper arm. She tripped, sliding back on her heel until her shoulders crashed into a tense, hard chest and a familiar set of strong arms bound around her waist.
"Baby," Evan rasped into her hair, his voice deep and guttural as he breathed harshly against the top of her head. "Take a breath. We don't know which way she went after that road, and that was nearly an hour ago."
When (Y/n) tried to break out of his arms, Evan tightened them around her and pulled her back. He moulded his chest over her back and leaned forward, smothering his face against her neck. But he lifted his eyes to look across when Athena stood in front of them.
"We have people checking cameras, honey. Let's wait and see what they find and where she went-"
"I can't- I can't wait here," (Y/n) tilted her head back onto Evan's shoulder and looked up at him with those big, pleading eyes that made his stomach flip and sent his heart reeling. He would do anything she asked when she looked at him like that and they both knew it. "Evan… we need to look for her, she was crying."
Biting down on his lower lip, Evan looked from his wife to his mother in law. "Could we do a drive round? If Minnie lost her headband, maybe, fuck… maybe she lost a shoe or something? We can at least look, can't we?"
It was possible.
Minnie wasn't old enough to know about leaving items behind like a trail of breadcrumbs for people to find her. But if she was struggling, what's to say that she didn't lose a shoe? Or they could still be wandering the streets, trying to get away from the police that would be scattered round looking for them.
A drive round couldn't hurt, it would keep them busy and out of trouble and occupy their minds. (Y/n) and Evan couldn't wait around here doing nothing and they couldn't sit at the police station either and wait for news. It would drive them both insane.
"Okay. But I'll drive you."
***
Leaning to the left, (Y/n) slumped her head on Evan's shoulder. She felt unbelievably tired. Her eyes were aching and yearning to get some rest, her stomach felt heavy and her heart had turned to a stone, thudding and bashing against her ribs until her chest was going to collapse.
But she couldn't close her eyes. What if she missed something? What if when she closed her eyes, they passed by Minnie or something that belonged to her, or a clue?
They had been driving for almost half an hour now, and (Y/n) was losing momentum and the will to be in the car. It wasn't as bad as waiting at the station, but being confined in here, not able to do anything to or for Minnie, was just as bad.
Every now and then, Athena was getting updates from the security cameras and from tips people were calling in to the station.
People had seen a woman carrying a crying toddler. Someone had said they saw a woman in a corner shop whose child was crying for their mummy and that only made (Y/n) breakdown all over again.
Athena had driven down the route they knew for certain the woman and Minnie had walked when they left the shopping centre. But now they were driving around slowly, cruising the streets for clues, to pass the time, to wait until someone called in with another sighting.
And Bobby was driving round too. He had been driving for over an hour, going in circles, passing the same streets, going past the shopping centre at least ten times. Waiting for a sighting of his little granddaughter.
*Any news??? XX
Evan looked down at his phone but his eyes were glossy and cracked like marbles and his face was void of any expression. He had no update to give his sister. His mum. His daughters. Nothing of interest, nothing that would give them any sense of hope.
*Nothing yet. Driving round to find her, a woman carried her out the shopping centre. XX
"Why take her?"
Looking down, Evan pursed his lips and looped his right arm around (Y/n)'s shoulders. He let her head slump off his shoulder and down onto his chest and he smothered his lips into her hair when she bound her arms around his torso. She finally let go of the headband, but only to place it delicately on Evan's knee.
The band weighed down on Evan like a ton of bricks had crushed down on his leg. He could feel it burning, melting into his skin and it made his lungs ache like he had breathed in poisonus gas.
"She wasn't in danger, she wasn't wandering… or lost, and I, I'm not a bad mum-"
"I don't know why, baby. But we're getting her back safe." Evan couldn't go down that road. Not yet.
He couldn't bear to imagine what had gone through that woman's mind to make her snatch his daughter like this.
Minnie hadn't been in danger or wandering alone without her family, she had been less than twenty feet from her grandma when that woman took her. She wasn't in danger of being run over or hurt or snatched by anyone else. Minnie wasn't an unloved child, lost and forgotten or abused by her family. And (Y/n) wasn't a neglectful mother.
There was no tangible reason to take Minnie, no explanation or reasoning that could explain what this woman had done to them today.
When her phone began to ring, Athena swiped across and put it on speaker. "Bobby, whereabouts are you, love?" He had been calling every now and then to say where he had checked and whereabouts he was going next so they didn't go down the same streets together, they needed to canvas a wider area.
"Down fifty-seventh street… I've spotted her."
"Where is she? Is she okay?!" (Y/n) surged forward and latched her hands around the passenger seat in front of her while she felt Evan's hand slide down to her lower back. He sat up straighter, more alert beside her as they all waited for Bobby to respond.
Athena turned on her siren and lights and started to speed up. They were only two minutes away from that street.
"I swear it was her, with a young woman. They got into a taxi but he won't pull over so I'm following him. If you head up the top end of the street you can cut them off."
Bobby wasn't an officer, he wasn't in a police car or the fire station truck of the ambulance. Flashing his headlights was only annoying and probably panicking the taxi driver in front of him. And Bobby couldn't overtake and cut them off with oncoming traffic and the taxi speeding up to get away from him.
He knew it was Minnie. He watched a woman bundle a crying toddler into the back of the taxi and he just knew. He wasn't quick enough to stop them before the car drove off, so he did the next best thing and sped after them.
"We're on our way. This is 7-2-7-L-30, in pursuit we have a sighting of Minnie Buckley in a taxi on fifty-seventh street, back up required."
Athena could see and hear Evan tapping his knuckles against the window out of anxious habit. His hand was curled into a tight fist and if he applied pressure, he might just break the window.
"You both need to stay in the car until I can make sure it's Minnie and get her out safely. Do you understand me?"
With a deep breath, (Y/n) looked up at Evan and she knew. She just knew by that look in his eyes. She didn't want to wait in here and he wasn't going to sit back and wait. The moment Athena stopped the car, Evan would bolt. He would go and get their daughter back because this had been a day from Hell and he couldn't have anything happen to her. He couldn't have his daughter hurt or scarred for life by this. He had to have her back in his arms.
The couple braced themselves on the front seats when Athena swerved to the left and blocked off the end of the street. She put the door locks on and climbed out the car, effectively locking her children in the back of the car so they couldn't cause a scene.
"Evan-"
"She's not locking me in here. I'll go get her, baby."
(Y/n) leaned to the right and deadlocked her arms around her chest when Evan pushed forward. He swung his long legs between the front seats, thankful Athena didn't have a barrier in between the back and front of this car. He clambered roughly into the drivers seat and stumbled out into the street. He wasn't waiting, not when his daughter needed him.
"LAPD, turn off the engine and step out of the car." Athena held her gun low at her thigh and tapped her free hand on the driver's window. She could see Bobby's car parked across the road to block the taxi in so there was no escape. Though they both doubted the taxi driver was in on this or would help a kidnapper escape.
When the driver complied and slowly stepped out of the car, Athena pointed to the pavement. "Stand over here please."
Evan held his breath deep in his lungs and walked at a distance from Athena, whose back was turned to him. He didn't want to get her into trouble but he didn't want her to stop him either. He just wanted his baby girl.
His eyes darted to the right and for a split second, he watched Bobby get out of his car. But then Evan's eyes went to the back door of the taxi.
A woman climbed out.
A young woman, younger than Evan, at least. She had shoulder-length black hair and a fringe that almost reached her eyes that were rabid like a wild animal caught in a snare. But when she reached down and grabbed the hand of a little girl who scurried out the taxi, Evan saw red.
A purple dress with flowers. Plain white tights that were now ripped and black around the knees. Red shoes that were lathered in mud and about to drop off her little feet. That pencil-straight hair that was so thin if it had been blonde, she would of looked bald.
Those big doe eyes made Evan see red. His baby girl. That was his daughter, and she was trying to take her away from him.
The woman began to run. She hurried as fast as she could to the pavement, dragging Minnie with her who kept falling and scuffing along the road, unable to keep up and she clearly didn't want to either. She wanted to stop, she wanted to go home. She was lost, on a street she didn't know with a strange woman and she was hurt. She wanted to go home.
A blood-curdling cry left Minnie's lips as she moved her free hand to her mouth and began to sob. Her eyes scrunched up tight as tears stained her face and her feet bent and scuffed along the pavement.
Why was she being dragged around? Where was her mummy? Why had this lady taken her away from the shops? Why did none of her family follow or meet them outside like the woman said they would?
"Minnie!"
"Buck don't you dare!"
Evan broke out into a sprint, ignoring Athena's warning and moving faster when he saw Bobby aiming for him or Minnie, he couldn't be sure. But he wanted to get to her first. It was like a race, a competition, and Evan needed to win. He had to.
When Minnie stumbled, she flopped onto her already bruised and bloodied knees that had cut open when she fell just outside the shopping centre. Her hands scraped the floor and she let out a belting scream, curling up on herself in case the woman grabbed at her again.
Lunging forward, Evan crossed onto the pavement just as the woman either went to grab Minnie by the arm or the hair, he couldn't be sure. She looked panicked and frightened enough to grab her by her hair and haul her up if it would get them away from here any quicker.
"Touch my daughter again and I'll break your arm!" He caught her wrist mid-air, a split second before she could reach his little girl.
He could feel his boots touching Minnie's side, he was standing that close to her and his towering frame cast her in a protective shadow. But his eyes, oh his eyes seared holes right through the woman stood in front of him. His fingers clenched around her wrist until she was whimpering and shaking and he knew he was going to bruise her skin. If he clenched just a little more, he might even break a tendon or a bone.
He was desperate to. Evan wanted to crush her wrist into dust. He wanted to throw her down to the floor and scream at her. He wanted her to see the agony she had put all his girls through today.
To see what she had done to Evan's wife, how she had traumatised all his children and how petrified she had made Minnie by doing all of this.
When Evan let go of her wrist, an overwhelming wave of protection flooded through him like a tsunami. And before the woman could move an inch, Evan doubled over and grabbed his daughter.
He scooped Minnie up as she screamed, uncertain who it was that now had hold of her. But the moment she was nestled into that comforting chest and smelled that mixture of cologne and smoke, she simmered down into quiet cries and whimpers. Her arms bound around Evan's neck and she nuzzled her face into his skin as he peppered her temple and cheeks with kisses.
"Oh baby… it's okay, you're safe now. Me and mummy are here, we've got you little mouse."
Evan bounced her up and down against his chest, quietly shushing against her temple as he turned his back to the taxi and the woman who was now being detained by Athena.
"Mummy?"
"Yeah, mummy's here too baby, and nan and pops. We've been looking all over for you." He moved his hand up to cradle the back of her head and tangled his fingers through her thin hair. He didn't get two steps towards the police car before (Y/n) was clambering out of the open driver's side door and pelting across the road towards them.
"Mummy," Minnie sniffed and went off into another round of crying as Evan carefully lowered her down into (Y/n)'s arms.
As soon as Minnie was in her arms, (Y/n) closed her eyes and went down on her knees. Evan thought for a moment that she had collapsed or even fainted with relief, but she hadn't. She didn't have the strength to hold herself up any longer.
She tucked her face into Minnie's neck and started to rock back and forth, cuddling her close as if this was the last time she was ever going to see her.
A shiver rolled down (Y/n)'s spine when she felt Evan kneeling behind her. His knees pressed up into her leg and his chest curved around her, pulling her back into his chest so he could wind his arms around both her and Minnie.
"Are you okay baby, are you hurt?" (Y/n) brushed her sleeve beneath her eyes to clear her vision before she gently stood Minnie up in front of her and Evan so they could look at her properly.
She stuffed her thumb into her mouth and sniffed, letting them both reach out for her and check her for any injuries. When (Y/n) gently took both her hands and looked at them, she began to whimper. There were grazes along her palms, nothing major or deep but for a toddler, it would sting and distress her.
Evan carefully reached out for her left leg when he noticed she was leaning her weight on her right foot rather than balancing between the two. He didn't want to take her shoes off here and now in the street to assess her, but he figured it was either her foot or her ankle that was causing her pain when she flinched away from his touch.
And the cuts on her knees were clear as day. Her previously bleached white tights had large holes ripped through them with loose threads hanging loose around the sides. Blood was soaked into the fabric of her left knee which was cut open and her right knee wasn't much better, grazed and scuffed, lightly bleeding.
"Oh, little mouse."
Minnie whimpered again and pushed forward until she could flop against Evan's chest and shimmy until he lifted her up off her aching feet.
He held her as close and as tightly as he dared without smothering her, looped his left arm around (Y/n), and slowly rose to his feet. He kissed the top of (Y/n)'s head when she bound her arms around his torso and tucked herself beneath his arm.
She was okay. They had her back. Athena was arresting the woman and she would find out why she had decided to take Minnie and what she thought she was going to do with her. Bobby was beckoning them over to him as he leaned up against the bonnet of his car, arms folded tightly over his chest. But the relief was evident on his face.
"Come on, let's get you home."
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Text
Take Me Down To The River, And Bathe Me Clean [One Shot]
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Text Divider by @saradika-graphics
SUMMARY | The Gods have sent her for him, and he'll have her if it's the last thing he does.
WARNINGS | 18+; Canon AU; Smut; Heavy Religious Themes; Obsession.
WORD COUNT | 10.1k
A/N | Another one of my older stories, because @toms-cherry-trees reminded me of this one! This was originally beta-read by the lovely @ewanmitchellcrumbs.
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She walked in sin, and had him in a trance.
A lowly servant girl, that was all she was. If he had been in his right mind, he would have never noticed her; never given her the time of day. Dragons did not spend their time entertaining sheep - especially in a time of war, when there were many and more important things to attend to.
The blood of the dragon ran hot, and his had boiled when he saw her for the first time. They said murder and bloodshed turned men into insatiable monsters and opened the doors to affluence for whores - of course, somebody had to draw benefit from the lust that came from making it out alive from battle. The men thought the cunts they got to sink their cocks into were their reward for victory; in truth, they had lost to women who made good use of war-tainted fools’ hot-headedness and filled their pockets with gold.
Aemond was different, however. While men spent their nights with women who screamed loud enough to keep every surrounding soul awake, he had taken to keeping away from sins of the flesh to keep himself in the light of the Gods. In the faint whispers of firelight, Aemond Targaryen would pore over war strategy and books of politicking, history, philosophy and diplomacy - that was when he was not reading passages of the Seven-Pointed Star, to give himself some sort of comfort during uncertain times of war.
He was a kinslayer already. He had to work doubly hard to appease the Gods now. He was a warrior and a Prince through and through, and he knew better than to give in to carnal desires that would mean next to nothing to him in the face of the lessons of the Gods that he had been taught. 
And then, she happened. She had walked in moonlight, and she had been sin incarnate.
On his first night as Prince Regent, he informed the maidservants to keep the candles burning in his study at the library, so he could continue to ponder over strategies to proceed in the fight for the throne. He had walked in while struggling to keep up with the pace of his thoughts, his calculated decisions seeming wrong at every turn and terribly in need of further thought. With his hands held behind his back so tightly that they would have gone red, Aemond walked to the private library where his study was set up - and she had been there.
He did not know if he had seen her before. He did not know if she had attended to him earlier, or if she was new to the Keep. All he knew was that she had been bent over a candle, the low light of which had given him a warm view of her soft face and the breasts that threatened to spill out of her tight servant maid’s dress. Her loose braid had fallen over her shoulder as she shielded the fire with her hand from the night air, and he watched her as she had looked at the flame intently, hoping it would keep.
With her shy little eyes and sharp nose, pouty lips, and nimble hands, she had Aemond’s attention completely, his mind already swirling with thoughts of her, of who she was, of what he could do to her.
Aemond’s very heart felt like it had been knocked down to his gut, with how heavy it was at the sight of her. There was a sense of unease about the slow loss of bearings in him, a feeling that he did not know what to make of. Illuminated by candlelight, she was the loveliest sight he’d ever known - almost divine, like a gift from the Gods themselves.
He could have her if he wanted to; burn her if he wished. He was a Targaryen Prince, now the solemn ruler of the realm - what was he, if not the living personification of fire itself? His peculiar thoughts threatened to give way to those of a sinful nature, and Aemond was painfully aware of it both in the chaos of his mind and the tightening of his trousers.
Through his hazy one-eyed gaze, worsened by the dim darkening of the night, he watched as she tilted her head ever so slightly. It took him by complete surprise how her neck called for him, for his touch. All he wanted was to run his fingers over the newly exposed skin from jaw to collarbone and squeeze her neck in his firm hold; just enough for her to feel his strength and burgeoning desire, but not so much that she’d beg to be let go of.
In the Hour of the Wolf, illuminated by the bright candlelight, Aemond Targaryen had seen the lowly servant girl for the very first time. And the moment her eyes had met his one violet orb, he knew he would never be able to let her go.
“Your Grace,” she murmured; whether it was in reverence or fear, he did not know. What he did know was that he enjoyed the respect from her, just as much as he did watching her bow down to greet him, giving him an ample view of her chest once more. Her voice was an almost quiet, tired one - one that might have belonged to a woman who would choose to stay quiet and unseen if she could manage it.
It was the nature of servants to put the wishes of the royal family above their own - so, of course, even if she wished for quiet, she would have to open her mouth and greet him with the respect that was his due. 
So far, she hadn’t disappointed him. She gripped the sides of her skirts while she waited for him to give her leave, and he wondered how far he could take this little game that he had begun to play. Would she be a willing participant in this dance of theirs that he had wanted to partake in with her? Would she put his needs above her own? Or would he have to bend and break her to have her?
“Continue,” he said, in a harsh tone that masked the growing curiosity in him. Who was this girl that had managed to capture his attention so effortlessly? Would she be warm to the touch like fire that she covered with her hands, or cold like the ice in his wine? Who was she? What was she?
He was a devout follower of the Faith, and was very well apprised of the punishments for indulging in sins of the flesh. He also knew that it would take an otherworldly grip to pull and lead him astray, and to his disappointing yet exciting realisation, he was sure that she had gained that power over him in a matter of moments - like nobody else ever had before.
If he had felt unease at how easily he had found himself willing to give in, he hadn’t bothered with it right then. Somehow, he had known that she had been worth it.
He took his seat at his chair by the desk - his scrolls, parchments, correspondence, and books already laid out for him. She had quietly walked over to the shelves with a dusting cloth in hand and had begun cleaning the older books on the shelves within his line of sight.
He watched from the corner of his eye, all the while trying his best to read from the book in hand. But his efforts had been in vain, of course. How could he have won, when sin herself was tempting him from across the chamber? How could he, when she was right there, mesmerizing him with every movement of hers?
If he hadn’t been so caught up with the voices in his mind, he would have seen her watching him from the corner of her eye and smiling, ever so slightly. Only a moment, and she had disarmed him. Sin was dangerous - and he now knew how.
Her mere existence had left him defenceless against her effortless pull toward him, and the notion that she had not even intended to hold his eye like this and yet still had - she so very much had - only worsened the weakness creeping up on him. 
He was not Aegon. He was not the rake who dishonoured powerless women over a moment’s weakness. He was not the man who seeded women who were not worthy of his blood. He was not the man who indulged in sin. And yet, as he had watched her curious eyes trying to make out the titles of the books she wiped, the fear of becoming that man grabbed him by the throat.
Those who indulged in sins of the flesh were cursed to spend all of eternity trudging through the Seven Hells - and no pretty face was worth that fate, no matter how ethereal she seemed to him. No Targaryen would suffer that fate - he was the blood of the Conqueror; he would not be anything less than ideal. He would not be the first to slip and sin.
So why did he find himself rising from his seat and walking towards her? Hands held back and his breathing even and steady, Aemond watched as she stilled, cognizant of his presence as his dark shadow fell over the shelves in front of her. She did not turn to see him or try to run.
She froze with her eyes fixed on his unsteady, dark shadow, and he enjoyed the nervous beads of sweat that began to form on the nape of her neck, right below where the stray hairs of her braid fell haphazardly. She swallowed, and Aemond's eye followed the slow bobbing of her throat with great intent. 
Was she fearful? If yes, she would have had every right to be. He certainly was afraid - of being carried away by sin.
That was all she was. Dirt and sin, both of which he should stay cleansed of. And yet, his hands moved of their own accord - the tip of his thumb wiped away the beads of sweat forming on her skin, drop after drop. Her breath hitched in her throat in surprise as gooseflesh arose in the wake of his touch and the warmth of his breath, and Aemond could not help the cutting smile that graced his lips then.
Could he conquer sin? He did not know. But he wanted - oh, he so wanted - to learn. And if there was one thing he truly enjoyed, it was learning. With that singular thought in mind, he moved her face by the chin to the side - giving her a view of his unmarred side if she wished for it.
She looked straight ahead, making no attempt to look at him. His hand was yet to leave her chin; if anything, his grip had only gotten tighter. In close proximity, he saw the way her hair curled on her sweat-dampened skin; the way her breasts heaved as she took in laboured breaths to calm herself down as a Prince of the realm touched and held her in his tight grasp.
Aemond’s thumb lazily caressed her jaw and lower lip, fingers holding onto her like she was a startled little fawn who would run if he let her. In close proximity, the swell of her backside grazed his clothed bulge for just a moment - enough to drive him mad with want and take a step back. But even then, he did not let go.
How could sin manage to look so innocent? How could she remain so ignorant of what she was doing to him?
Those who committed sins of the flesh would spend the entirety of the afterlife making their way through the dark expanses of the Seven Hells, and she… she was a test of will. The Gods had clearly sent her to test him, for why else would he have been so easily swayed by a pretty face?
“What do they call you?” He rasped into her ear, while she, to his utter shock, lifted her lips up slightly - enough to send his senses into action. She smiled like she knew the realm's biggest secret, and wouldn't tell anyone until she'd let it unfold a bit for her own amusement.
All of a sudden, there was no chasm, no oceans to separate them - all that they had between them was a slight fraction of space, just enough to breathe. His nose brushed her earlobe and she hissed - if he had not been close to her, he would have missed it.
Her name tumbled out of her lips in faint song-like whisper - a voice made to seduce - and Aemond was convinced that she was some sort of otherworldly creature - a siren, or a fey. Her voice went straight to his cock, and his eagerness was evident as it hardened. She was yet to make even a slight movement - every part of her remained still, and if she were not breathing, he would be convinced that he had killed her with the forwardness of his actions.
His hands reached down to her neck, and he continued down as he traced a path down the soft skin of her arms with the tips of his fingers. His hands reached hers, and he pried her fingers apart, allowing him to intertwine his with hers. He guided their joined left hands to wrap around her waist, and her eyes followed his movements as her head hung low.
The laces of her worn-out brown dress called for his fingers to run through them. The sight was the most inviting one he ever knew, and he let go of her other hand to let his finger work through the first loop. He gulped at getting to see a new plane of her body - it was a very small patch of newly won skin, but it had made his mouth water and mind race nonetheless.
He wondered what it would be like if he simply swooped in, pushed her braid aside, and planted his lips right there, but Aemond managed to hold himself. Would she push him away, or would she welcome him and encourage him to work his way through the second loop? Would she let him go further down her back until his mouth reached the swell of her backside?
His calloused fingertip tapped the skin under the newly removed loop on her back once, twice, thrice. The gooseflesh that arose and the audible gasp she let out felt like the biggest victory Aemond had ever known.
He decided then that if he were going to conquer sin, he would do it looking her in the eye. After all, Princes had to be honourable - and it was not honourable to approach prey from behind.
He turned her around, and she was quick to take a step back - her back hit the old wooden shelf behind her, and he towered over her, his presence a looming threat to her virtue as one of his hands rested on the side of her head, while the fingertips of the other grazed her neck. He drew his face closer to her, and her breath hitched, and he was infinitely amused by what her thoughts right now could be.
He pulled her face up by the jaw, and now she was forced to look at him - he expected to see fear for her modesty, nervousness for her virtue, and shame for her birth and station, which took away her agency when being held so close by a Prince.
He had not expected to see eyes that matched his own fire. Was he hallucinating, or was she truly holding her own against him in silence? He did not know. But what he did know was that meeting her vision from up close had stunned him. From where he was, he would have been able to count the number of lashes on each eyelid if he so wished - and it was that realisation that broke his reverie and made him draw back.
Sin and shame. He had to be far removed from both, and yet, he had almost allowed himself to be drowned in them. Near where she had stood, he had seen the bound books on the shelves. With his one eye, he had made out the title of The Seven Pointed Star, and he awakened - as though he had been doused with ice-cold water.
How quickly had he been drawn toward her? How easily had he almost given in to temptation? His first night as Prince Regent, and he had already teetered close to sin, dancing at the edges of Seven Hells as the Gods’ most tempting offering had lured him in.
“Leave.” His voice, hoarse from being in close proximity to her, had carried through the air but seemed to have failed to reach her. It seemed as though she had been looking through him, past him, and his words had fallen on deaf ears. She had seemed to be in thought as she ignored his grunt, as though she was waiting for him to take his words back and ravish her right then.
He expected to loom over her, to engulf her - he had not considered that she might perhaps seek to do the same thing to him. The thought of being controlled or met by an equal unnerved him like nothing else ever had.
So he repeated himself and held his hands behind his back, waiting for her to follow his command and swallowing the spit that had collected in his mouth. She quickly picked up her rag from the shelf and had gathered her skirts, eyes downcast and flitting about in confusion and shock.
If he looked closely, he might have noticed a slight knowing smile - one that indicated that this was far from over.
She bowed to him, eyes confident - she said much and more with her eyes, he found - as though his hands had not touched her only a few fleeting moments prior. She made away into the corridors - out of sight, but certainly not out of mind.
He let go of breath that he didn’t know he had been holding only when he had heard the definitive slam of the doors following her exit.
He who holds his own against temptations of the flesh would hold infinite power and control over his senses, the Holy Book had said.
His one eye trained over the spine of the Seven Pointed Star, and he sighed. He had looked sin in the eye and won tonight, resisting his urges. But given how she had plagued his thoughts so strongly even after running away, how long would it be before he gave in?
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Aemond Targaryen was not a man of depravity.
He was not a man of sin. And yet, it was terrifying to him how he very easily could be whenever he was even remotely in her presence.
It was maddening how gooseflesh arose on his skin even when she was farthest away from his vision, blocked by many others who were positioned closer to him. His palms would become drenched just at the sight of her skirts billowing as she took a turn, without even having seen her face or body. Just the mere sight of the edge of her skirts was enough to drive him mad with want; and want her, he did.
On some days, he would have to sit with his hands held together tightly at the supper table while she served the food, if only to prevent himself from reaching out and grabbing her hand. His heart beat loudly and heavily in a steady thump, thump, thump - so definitive, he wondered if his family could hear it at the table.
What was worse was that she knew. She knew the maddening effect she had on him. Her lips curled up just slightly at how his eye would flit to her chest while she bent down to pick up his plate from the table. After dinner, before he could catch her and keep her in his hold, she would be gone. Regardless of the time of day, he sought her out like a moth to a flame. It did not matter where he was; it was always her that he wanted.
The shame of being driven with want for her touch - a mere servant girl’s touch - had taken over him, consumed him entirely. It spread through him faster than wildfire ever could, and hit him like a well-aimed arrow through to his heart. Only a week ago, he had been swirling with thoughts of battle and regency.
On one particular day, he had caught her tending to the gardens while walking in the corridors of the Red Keep. It was instantaneous how he immediately managed to make out her form even from far away. He stepped closer to the railing and watched with a stoic expression on his face and yearning in his mind, still completely befuddled as to what this servant girl had that had pulled her to him in an instant.
Soon enough, the girls who were with her had dispersed, and she’d waved them goodbye before going back to kneeling down next to the bushes, taking good care to not damage the roses as she dug out the mud.
Hands caked with dirt, possibly. The idea should have repulsed him, but the thought of her placing those very hands on him and tracing a muddy path down his chest knocked the very breath out of him in an instant.
Each day in the following week was torture for him - catching glimpses of her in pieces, in fragments, but never entirely and never enough to properly see her. Each sighting of her skirts, her hair, or her back was a moment on its own, frozen in time. She’d taken good care to make herself scarce, so much so that he worried.
Had he frightened her with his forwardness? Did she fear him? Wanting her was supposed to bring her closer to him, but it seemed to him that all it had done was push her away, oceans apart.
It killed him - how his mind, heart, and soul sang for her, a siren song so rich in wanting that it would leave nothing but destruction in its wake as he sought her out - and yet, she hadn't met his eye after that night when she’d run away from him, but she smiled.
He remembered clearly the way his fingertip had grazed the slightly exposed skin of her back; the way her breath had hitched when his fingers ran over her neck, and how she’d frozen for a moment when she felt his warm breath on her. And her voice - gods, her voice - he kept her name and her voice running through his mind like a desperate prayer, as though it was the only word that would bring him salvation from all the sins that he’d committed.
He remembered the slight upward curve of her lips, almost as though she was challenging him to go further. He thought about her all day, every day - and yet, it seemed as though it was never enough.
When this game of hide and seek had become too much for him, he’d take to the comfort of the night to relieve himself in the privacy of his bedchambers. He knew it was a sin to touch himself and spill into his own hand - but if he had to commit a negligible error to keep himself from committing a grave sin, like taking her no matter how much he wanted it, he would have to.
Aemond spent his days thinking her name, and his nights voicing it out in moans, grunts, and gasps as he let his hand work his painfully hard cock. Each time he pleasured himself, he remembered how her hands felt against his own - he imagined those hands on his cock, stroking each vein of his back and forth until he had himself drowning in pleasure, with white-hot spend spurting all over his hands and stomach. He imagined her hands coated with his seed.
She was an enthralling beauty. Calm, but with tempestuous eyes. Quiet, but with a flame to match his own. He'd hold a torch for her forever if that's what it took. He wanted her like he’d wanted nothing else.
His eye would remain closed throughout - the irony of his eye having to be closed for him to properly see her now did not escape him. It was a need, to be able to have her in some shape or form - almost as though he was at the edge of his body, and she was the only one who could save him from losing himself.
He imagined her face resting on his chest, her breasts pressed onto him. Her hands on his cock, his down her skirts. He’d let his mind take him all the way, and each time he spilled onto himself, he drove himself mad with more want - it was a vicious, endless cycle. He continued until he tired himself out and went to sleep, his last word of the night always being a faint and needy whisper of her name as he wondered what it would be like if she was sharing his bed, his heart, his life.
The shame would engulf him soon after he woke, and he’d grit his teeth at how the gods had chosen to play him. If they wanted him to be righteous and good, why put her in his path? If he was meant to resist her, why make her irresistible? Why play him for a fool? The unanswered questions, those that sound like he had been screaming into a well, gave way to a gigantic lump in his throat.
What she’d made of him - this pathetic, needy, pining mess of a man - could not stand for much longer. If he had to throw himself at the feet of the Seven and beg for penance, for absolution, for peace and quiet - he would. He would do it a thousand times over. He hated that he loved the feeling of wanting her. He was lost on what he could possibly do with the emotions creeping onto him through his blood as he pondered over the contrast.
With his intent and goal clear in mind, Aemond walked to the Royal Sept. He decided that he would fall at the Father’s feet, beg for mercy in his judgement, and pray to be forgiven. He would apologise to the Mother for playing host to foul and sinful thoughts that should have had no place in the mind of a Prince. He would leave himself at the mercy of the Maiden and make his shame known for wanting to defile a woman who’d done nothing but go about her duty. 
She was there, bent down on her knees at the foot of the statue of the Maiden, praying. She was right in front of him.
The Sept was empty, save for him and her. Aemond’s hands went to his back quickly, and he managed to stop moving his feet to silence the clicking of his boots. He watched her intently, fiercely, unnervingly.
He may have come to the Sept as a pathetic man wanting to give the Gods their due for his sinful indiscretions, but her presence had immediately taken him to who he was a week ago on the fateful night when he met her - a starved man who was mad with desire for her.
There was something to be said about how he’d come to the Sept ready to beg for forgiveness - only for the pathetic thoughts to become a distant memory as she invaded his mind once more. He was a hunter with a primal urge again.
Hot, ready, and absolutely ravenous, ready to stake out his prey - with her knees bent and her face unassuming as she let the comforting and safe feeling of the Sept take over her, she had no idea what dangers to her virtue the man stealthily standing behind her posed.
But Aemond did. He mapped out every inch of the skin that he could and could not see from where he stood, and he knew exactly how he wanted to touch, enjoy, and worship every inch of her. From where he stood, the entirety of her looked so small that she could have fit into his one hand. He closed his fist at the thought of holding her tight and watched.
The light from the stained glass windows reflected and fell around her in a bright ring of fiery orange and light rose, and she looked lit from within as the light illuminated and surrounded her. She may be wearing an old, worn-out servant maid's dress - but in the divine light of the Sept, surrounded by all things holy, she was nothing less than a goddess to Aemond.
Standing at the foot of the statue of the Maiden, she was a Goddess he wanted to claim; in mind, heart, and soul. The Maiden had fallen from the skies and had taken to taunting him with her beauty.
In the light, all he saw was her. Everything around her had vanished, and she was all his vision could register. It was almost as though the Maiden was offering her to him, asking him to indulge, rewarding him for all his years of obedience.
Everything fell into place, and all his thoughts made sense. She was sin, but she was the reward too - perhaps knowing that already was the reason why she had smiled. Only she was visible to him in a grand Sept adorned with many religious relics - a clear sign that she was all he was meant to see.
How could he not have her? He’d spent years being the obedient son, the good son. He’d spent years studying the blade, learning the histories of his realm and the philosophies. He made sure to be the ideal son his mother wanted, and now he was a Prince Regent of Westeros. A powerful man within his own right.
And all his time being good had finally led him to her - a sinful indulgence. And if he had earned the power he had, he had earned her too. She was his, and soon he would make it known - to her and to the damned Gods. He would make them all watch from above - all the Gods, the Old, the New, the foreign ones and his Valyrian ones - as he worshipped her in their place, as she usurped them in his world. She would be a goddess, and he, a devoted, starving, and humble man - on his knees for her.
He glanced over at her and then at the Seven statues one last time before walking away, his coat flying sleekly behind him as she finally finished her prayers and turned around. He forgave her for consuming him, his thoughts, and invading his very being. His hand stretched out and laid floating mid-air, reaching out for a girl who had not yet sensed his presence.
In the distance, as a second son walked away with his mind made, the young servant maid’s ears picked up the hauntingly familiar, fading sounds of his boot-clad purposeful gait. The candle she lit at the Maiden’s feet melted away, the sight making for something ethereally beautiful in the bright light.
She walked away soon after, and did not notice as the flame sputtered, faded, and went out.
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Aemond Targaryen was a man starved.
This game they played, this push and pull, was enough to drive a disciplined and restrained man like Aemond to his wit’s end. His nights became longer as he stayed up to pleasure himself and moan out her name until the entire corridor heard it; his days became longer in her absence too, as he stayed alert, trying to find her in some corner or another. This dance that they paired up for was an absolute tease - he always found himself reaching out for a hand that did not fall into his grasp, one that he missed by a fraction of space each time.
She would walk into a corner and be gone before he could catch sight of her; he spotted her braided hair in a sea of heads from the dias once, but he could not keep up as the servants moved to work. In the library, in the corridors, in the gardens, in the common rooms - he’d missed her narrowly everywhere.
He had always been a man who worked for what he had. His dragon, his sword skill, his intelligence, his fearsome reputation - Aemond worked hard to earn every single one of his known traits, and as was the natural order of things, he was made to earn her too. It made his patience run out slowly and swiftly - but he did not give up. He would not.
An offering from the Gods was never simply handed over - there are many trials and tribulations to be faced first. And in his case, it would mean finding her first.
One fine day, he did.
He had seen her enjoying herself. She held a basket of dirty clothes to be taken to wash, and her companion was hidden by a wall. Aemond knew that pursuing her right here, despite every bone in his body wanting to, would not be a good idea - he could not afford to be found lusting after a serving girl with such intensity.
But he could stay around for a while and hear her speak. He did love her voice - the hold her siren song had on him in each waking moment was absolutely crushing, and he’d let it take him.
He stood out of sight and heard her talking about the Holy Day festivities out in the city, and when he heard the voice of her companion, his blood ran cold. A man - she had been speaking to and entertaining the company of a man. She was giving him her laughs freely and her company with nothing in return - laughs and time that should have been his.
Her lips curled up in the most captivating way, and it hurt and angered Aemond to think that it was not meant for him. He once again heard the man speak about taverns and dances happening all night on the day of, and Aemond’s hand clutched the hilt of his dagger. 
"Vaogenka Andali," he seethed. [Andal scum]
It would be so easy, so simple to rip his throat out right now. He could easily kill him and take her, claim her right there as the man watched Aemond take her in every possible way with his dying breath. He would do that to every man who dared to meet her eyes and put himself in her path, for he was the only one with the right to behold the sight of her.
Sin of course, was a common temptation. No wonder everybody wanted to partake. No matter. She was his. And judging by her next words, it seemed that she knew it too.
“Apologies, I’m already spoken for.”
His hold on his dagger loosened as his mind and heart caught up with her words.
He loved the push and pull of this sinful game they played, and it seemed that she did too. His smile was harsh and cutting, dripping with victory and pride at knowing that his want for her affections was uncontested. He slowly slinked away, and completely missed how she leaned her head back at the sound of his boots, only to spot his silver hair in the distance.
He missed her sly smile once more.
That night, her words ran through his mind over and over as he imagined her whispering sweet nothings in his ear while letting him slip his cock into her cunt, The mental image of her wanting, moaning and at his mercy while he fucked into her mercilessly had sent a shivering bolt of pleasure to his spine. It was the sight of her looking up at him and batting her lashes innocently that did it for him, and sent him careening to his peak.
On the seventh day of the seventh moon, a day considered holy for the New Gods, the prayers at the Royal Sept were to happen late in the morning in the presence of the royal family and the courtiers. Aemond had to make an appearance in the beginning as his mother welcomed those of the court and noble houses, and so he stood, with his hands held behind his back, trying to spot a familiar face amidst the throngs of people who had gathered.
There are very few serving girls around, she was not there. Where would she be?
Aemond took his leave, and he watched as the High Septon took his place at the front and led the proceedings. He walked out of the Sept through the backdoor, with the faint and dull sounds of prayer running through his ears as he remained within earshot.
“The Seven themselves walked among the Andals in the hills of Andalos, and it was they who crowned Hugor of the Hill and promised him and his descendants great kingdoms in a foreign land…” 
The Septon’s voice reverberated through Aemond’s mind, and given all the shame he had felt and the conflicted nature of his thoughts ever since he met her, he felt the need to listen to the Word of the Gods. And so he froze in the darkened, empty corridor, with his back leaned onto the wall and his hands held together on his front, finger tapping incessantly into his thigh as he listened.
“The Seven had promised King Hugor a golden land amidst towering mountains…”
Promises. What had the Gods promised him?
Almost as though they had heard his prayers, she had walked in. 
She was what the Gods had promised him.
She looked no different from the first time he’d seen her, and his mind was racing. His throat had suddenly gone dry, and his voice was seemingly stripped away from him as he finally faced her.
He’d wanted her for too long, and now she was right in front of him; his for the taking. He would not let her go this time.
The basket that she held in her hands had a variety of fruits that he presumed were for the lords and ladies to eat once they’d finished with their prayers. If his assumptions were right, she was on her way to join those at the Sept to pray. 
The Maiden as he saw her, was on her way to the Sept to bless them with her presence. And Aemond was about to show her that he was the most devout man in the Kingdoms. It did not matter how loud the echoing sounds of their prayers were - he’d worship her like none of them could.
He stalked toward her with the cadence of a starved man, one that had been kept away from his prey for too long. And what was he, if not that? The High Septon’s voice was faintly audible to him, but nowhere close to impactful enough to sway him towards any other course. 
“Spirits, wights, and revenants cannot harm a pious man, so long as he is armoured in his faith,” Aemond heard him say. No, none of them managed to penetrate his thoughts - but this woman, this Goddess amongst men… She owned him. She had his heart, his soul, and everything that he was.
She quickly dropped the basket and her eyes followed the one stray apple that rolled away from them both. She couldn’t for long however, not when he’d pushed her to the wall and held her by the soft skin of her cheek.
Her eyes, meeting his own. His legs lodged on either side of hers. His hand, digging into her waist like he wanted to bruise her, brand her, mark her as his.
She turned to look sideways, and seemed as though she was worried about people walking in on them in the dark, isolated corridor. He pulled her face harshly to meet his eye once more - Aemond knew that they’d all take the front entrance and not the back - they’d be left alone, if only for a little time.
He will have her today. He will have her if it’s the last thing he does.
He ran his fingers over her forehead, slowly bringing them down to trace her eye. Her eyelids shut immediately, and her breath hitched as he travelled further down and met her nose. He cannot stop now  - he will not stop - and he got to her lips, fingers hovering over the outline. He felt the faint dampness from when she’d probably licked her lips not too long ago, and gasped.
It was all he could do to not slip those fingers inside.
Her eyes are locked with his one violet orb, and he looks into her as his fingers map out every little plane of her face. He felt his knees going weak as she held her own against his intense gaze, fire matching his as she refused to break contact with his eye. His voice was hoarse and it was almost painful to let the words out, but he knew that he’d explode if he did not. 
“Do you… have any idea what you do to me?”
“Perhaps I will be better served if you tell me,” she whispered. There was no fear in her, he noticed. He may have seen her as his prey to claim, but it seemed that she was determined about keeping them both on equal footing. It only drives him toward her a lot more. His fingers travelled down to her chin, and made their featherlight way down her neck, moving as her throat bobbed while she gulped. When they reached her bosom, he watched as she audibly gasped, and wondered what other noises he could elicit from that pretty mouth.
“I have been driven mad with want. Sinful, uncouth thoughts that befit a lowly barbarian, rather than a prince. All because….” He gulped and her eyes still did not move away from his. He holds her chin to raise her face, while letting the other wander over her gown and fall on her clothed breast.
“Pride goes before a fall.” the High Septon’s faint voice reverberated through the dark corridor. Aemond is the blood of Valyria; closer to the Gods than men. With his unquestionable blood and status came a sense of pride that ensured that he’d never be looked down upon, pride that he’d never let go of. But tonight, he will. For her, he will. For he does not want to fall - he wants to fly high, higher and higher still with her.  When he faced her, he realised that he would go on his knees in reverence if she asked. 
“I’ve thought about you ever since I first saw you,” he said. His hands squeezed her breast as though he was testing out the action, and he saw how the back of her palm hit the wall and the other gripped his doublet, trying to find purchase as the faint pleasure shot through her.
“You… you are special. You are the Gods’ answer to all my prayers… You….” he took a long breath as he studied her face, looking for any signs of discomfort. “You…”
She raised her eyebrow as though she challenged him to continue, and he wondered if he should. He heard what he’d said, and it sounded no less than delusional - but how could it be wrong, if it felt so right?
“The Gods… they sent you to me.” My Goddess, he thought. “What do they want? What do you want?” 
The hand on her breast continued to knead at her soft flesh through her clothes, and his other hand descended too as soon as he watched her lips part - but that wasn’t enough. He needed an answer. So he stopped his ministrations and asked again, stern voice giving way for nothing apart from what he wished to hear. 
“What do you want from me?”
“I only want you,” she breathed out, her hands covering his as she caged them over her chest.
The Maiden had come to bless the earthly beings with her presence, with her love, and she wanted him. Wanting to wait no longer, his lips found hers.
The air crackled with an electric intensity as their lips met, desire and longing fueling the moment. His hands trembled slightly as they traced the curves of her face, fingers brushing against her soft skin with a reverence that bordered on worship.
Their kiss deepened, and he pulled her closer, his body pressed against hers, feeling the rapid rhythm of her heartbeat matching his own. She arched into him, a soft moan escaping her as their tongues intertwined. The taste of her was intoxicating to Aemond - a heady blend of sweetness and fire that seared itself into his memory, branding him with a hunger he never knew existed.
Time seemed to slow, the world around them fading into obscurity as they lost themselves in the intensity of their union. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer and he reciprocated, as if afraid that she might slip away if he didn't hold on tight enough. Every fibre of his being was consumed by her, by the intoxicating sensation of her lips on his, the soft sighs that escaped her, and the way her body moulded seamlessly against his. 
He pushed them both towards the wall and let his hands rest on the stony surface, caging her. She leaned forward and caught his lips this time, letting her hands wander over the planes of his shoulders, his arms, his clothed chest. Aemond’s hand grasped at her neck and squeezed - enough to elicit a gasp from her, but not so much that she’d beg to not be choked to death. 
Her hands snuck in through the hem of his doublet, fingertips grazing over the bare skin of his abdomen. If Aemond dropped dead right then, he would die a happy, blessed man. Blessed by a Goddess herself.
“Spirits, wights, and revenants cannot harm a pious man, so long as he is armoured in his faith,” the High Septon recited. He recognized the words from the Holy Book, and could not help but agree. As the taste of her lips consumed him and her touch left him in a mindless frenzy, he knew.
Her touch on his bare skin ignited a fire in him that already burned bright, and as he readied himself for more, the High Septon’s distant words echoed through the darkened corridors once more.
“Men bow to their lords, and lords to their kings, so kings and queens must bow before the Seven Who Are One.”
And right then, a Prince of Valyrian blood, a man closer to the Gods than to men, kneeled. Just as the Seven preached kneeling down to the divine deities, he listened. Aemond was quick to hold her ankles and swiftly pull his hands up her legs, hiking her skirts up with each passing moment. The chill of the air around them hit her newly exposed skin instantly, as he made note of the gooseflesh that arose on her calves. He pushed his face forward to kiss her knees as his hands continued their way up, pulling her skirts all the way up to her hips and exposing her already drenched clothed cunt to him.
When his lips met the apex of her thighs, she let out a loud moan. Aemond was convinced right then, that pleasuring her was what he was put on the earth for. What better purpose can a man have, than to satisfy a Goddess amongst men?
As though they could not survive without each other’s touch any longer, her hands pulled at his hair - she wanted more, and he was all but a devoted soldier at her feet, giving her all that she wished for. He pulled her smallclothes down to her ankles, and parted her folds to bring her wet and wanting cunny to his line of sight. 
He looked up to face her, and her heavy breathing and heaving chest filled him with energy beyond that which he was humanely capable of handling. His Goddess had perhaps blessed him already, but he would be amiss if he did not properly pay her his obeisance. She’d sensed what he intended to do almost immediately, and through her barely hidden lust and half lidded eyes, she murmured.
“Anyone could come. Anyone could see.”
“Let them.” 
He pushed his head between her thighs and licked from her opening to her pearl, already drunk on the taste of her. She arched into him, and he took good care to tightly grip onto her thighs, keeping her and her skirts in place so they'd not disturb him. It would seem that his hot breath on her and his nose nudging her bud was enough to have her lose all sense of control and moan, and he relished in watching her let the pleasure take over her with each movement. He then sucked at her pearl diligently before fucking into her with his tongue once more and she pushed herself at him like she couldn't have enough.
“Those who indulge in sins of the flesh would be cursed to spend all of eternity trudging through the Seven Hells.” The High Septon’s voice echoed through, but Aemond was far too gone, far too cuntstruck as he became addicted to the feeling of her pearl between his lips. Why would he be bothered about trudging through the Seven Hells, when the Seven Heavens were right here, between his beloved’s thighs?
He was sure he heard someone, but he was too in deep to care. He’s drowning in her; the feel of her, the taste of her, the scent of her and everything that makes her the Goddess that she is to him. 
After all, how can he not? The Seven themselves had shined their light on her and sent her for him, had they not? The deeper he buried his tongue in her weeping cunny, the more the intoxicating smell of her engulfed him. And he let it. He’d let her take over him a hundred times over, for every lifetime that the Gods see fit to bless him with. 
A thin streak of light escaped in and illuminated her thigh, and he heard her moan wantonly as his tongue continued its unrelenting assault. Her pretty sounds only served to drive him mad with want, and he pressed his nose into her bud as he continued to feast on her and pushed her against the wall with a hand splayed across her stomach, pressing into her as she grinded against him.
Her hands tightened around his head and pulled at his spun-silver hair. Her cries of pleasure were the only sounds he heard as she toppled over the edge, her mind a haze as white hot pleasure coursed through her. Seven save him, Aemond was not a greedy man - but it was with greed that he did not let a single drop of her go to waste and continued to pleasure her through her peak as he lapped it all up. When he stood back up, he did so with a glistening chin, painted with her slick. 
He knew very well from the moment he saw her, that if he touched her once, he’d never let go. What he had not anticipated was how little patience he’d have - for as soon as she recovered from her peak, he quickly freed his cock and sheathed himself in her in one swift thrust. Her thighs quivered in his hold and her hands flew to his shoulders, looking for purchase as she struggled to stand on her own - her knees seemed to have melted under his touch.
He lowered his head onto her shoulder, letting the feeling of her tight heat warm his length for a moment as he stilled. She clenched around him immediately and he mouthed a path of feather light kisses down her neck. Every bead of sweat was visible to him and he breathed it all in, following it with a firm lick up the skin that left her shivering under him. He let his hand rest and pull at the hair on the nape of her neck, cold from being dampened by sweat.
It would seem that his Goddess was as impatient for him as he was for her, and couldn’t wait for him to lay his claim on her. While he was content to stay buried to the hilt in her wet cunt for a while, he knew that they were risking it all - anyone could walk in at any moment, and they had to make it quick. 
The thought of being caught out like this, buried inside of her, would usually shame him. But right now, he couldn’t bring himself to be ashamed - how could he? He’d let them all watch as he took her in all the ways a man could a woman before he let her go for fear of strangers. After all, dragons did not concern themselves with the opinions of sheep. Especially not when it is a Goddess’ satisfaction that is at stake. 
“Lives are like candle flames that can be snuffed out by an errant puff of wind,” the High Septon said, and he agreed instantly. If life was finite, if he could die today, wouldn’t it be prudent to take pleasure from a divine deity that presented herself to him, wet and wanting?
Her hand moved to the back of his neck and she breathed into him, her warm breath hitting his lip as he kissed her once more. She was as desperate as he was, pushing against him in search of pleasure - pleasure that only he could give her - was all the indication he needed as he began thrusting into her, hard and fast.
She let out a choked moan as he smiled against her lips, his own a sharp line that looked more arrogant than happy - as befitting a Targaryen Prince. She lowered her hands and let it slip under his doublet once more, letting her hands roam free over his back and planting her nails into the skin. Aemond was sure that red blood had bloomed where she’d dug into him, but the heat of her, her walls clenching around him were all that mattered.
He locked her in his tight hold - one hand pulling at her hair so she’d look at him while he fucked into her mercilessly, and another on the small of her back, fingers ghosting over the top of her backside - and she was caged in by him. He held her so tight, like he worried that she’d disappear if he loosened his hold even just a little. Their kisses were all tongue and teeth as he rutted into her, hitting her rough spot with each thrust. He groaned as her lips parted, a thin line of spittle between them as he lost himself in the feeling of her.
Her back hit the wall repeatedly and the heavy thuds were in tandem with the wet sounds of his cock in her cunt. Her heavy breaths, the tightening of her stomach, the touch that she sought out and all the sounds that she made, the ones that he'd never tire of hearing, were enough to drive him to madness.
Her hands roamed over all the bare skin she could find, and when he thrusted too harshly she would reward him with blood red crescent-moon cuts with the tips of her nails. “I have… waited… for so long…” Aemond panted, his words punctuating each push into her. “Imagined having you like this, tight and warm around me,” he grunted.
She let out a choked moan, followed by her fastening her legs around him as he lifted her up and continued to let her know how much he desired her. 
“Fucked into my fist each night to the thought of you… Wrong, so wrong…” he growled, and his hands quickly went up to her chest and pulled her neckline down, freeing her breasts. He kneaded at the flesh and marvelled in how perfectly they fit in his palms, almost as though they were made for him to have and hold. With each touch, he felt the heel of her feet press into the small of his back through his clothes. Nudging him, taunting him, driving him mad.
“Want you so much, you’re mine…Issa jaesa.” [My Goddess] 
Every declaration was accompanied by a rough thrust and he felt hot pleasure blooming in his lower abdomen. But he wasn’t ready, not quite yet. Not if she wasn’t. He needed her to peak with him and truly join him as one. He needed there to be indisputable proof that she was his. The thought of her spending the day with his white hot spend running and drying down her thighs was what pushed him to circle her nub with his long finger and thrust animalistically into her, coaxing moans and a blooming warmth in her belly.
“Yours, my prince. Only yours…” she murmured in between gasps, and she peaked immediately after. He was powerless as she clenched tightly around him, and in a few slow yet definitive thrusts, his release came soon after. 
Looking in between their joined bodies, he ran his hand up her stomach and held onto her sweat-coated breast. No sight in the world had ever been so divine.
“Death is never far in this world, and seven hells await sinners…” the High Septon’s voice said as he finished his sermon. Having just found his life’s greatest pleasure in her, he found that he did not mind the Holy man’s words. 
He may be a Valyrian prince closer to God to others, but in front of her, he was only a man. And what power does a man have against a sinful temptress like her? How was he to possibly stay away? If this is how good sin felt, then Aemond realised that he would not mind being left to rot in the Seven Hells if he would be allowed the memory of her in his mind, heart and soul for eternity. It would be enough to keep him alive in the land of the undead.
He stayed buried in her until he softened once more, his hand twirling a dampened stray curl on her neck as he continued to knead at her breast and roll the soft nipple with the other. His soft kisses on her neck were only made better by her tired breaths, and he bit into her neck quickly before he let go.
He missed the warmth of her touch immediately as he pushed his cock back into his trousers, and corrected himself to make himself presentable once more. When he caught a glimpse of the stray hair on his shoulders, he looked around to find his leather hair tie - only for her closed fist to reach out to him. He opened his palm and she let the hairtie fall onto his hand, and he smirked at the normalcy of the action.
After he set his hair in place, he clutched his hands behind his back as he watched her correct her sleeves and smooth down the skirts of her worn-out dress. She smiled at him when she was done with her clothes and put a hand in her hair to tame it, and with her mischievous yet charming grin, she healed all the scars in him that she had not caused.
When she was done, he found the stray apple that had rolled away from her basket and put it in with the rest. He handed it to her and could not resist letting his hand push away the fine hairs that stuck to her forehead. When he finished, he kissed her well, and he kissed her true - no trace of the roughness with which he’d taken her only moments ago, a soft reminder of his claim to her that he'd just staked. 
Their foreheads met and he held her by the back of her head, and he smirked as he heard his Goddess speak once more.
“Will you come to me again?”
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auras-moonstone · 2 days
Note
hiii i rlly love ur writing so if u cld write this i’d actually pass out ‼️
u can pick urself if it’ll be jack, Ethan, hockey player Ethan or even smth else! But what im thinking abt is like where he breaks up with reader because hes convinced he lost his feelings towards her but later on realized he didnt?? Hope u have a good day 🙁
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ all you had to do was stay
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ᡣ𐭩 word count: 1.4K
ᡣ𐭩 pairing: hockey player!ethan landry x fem!reader
ᡣ𐭩 summary: convinced his feelings are gone, ethan breaks up with y/n. when he wins the championship, he realizes he made a mistake.
ᡣ𐭩 contents/warnings: heartbreak. angst. make-up. fluff.
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ethan truly thought his feelings for y/n had washed away. but it’s wasn’t until now, looking around the arena for her, having just won the hockey championship, that he realized that maybe he had rushed into conclusions and fucked everything up.
the team went to a bar to celebrate, and while his teammates drank and danced, ethan moped by the bar with a drink in his hand, replaying in his head, like a sad movie scene, the moment he ended things with y/n.
why had he been so stupid? he had set in his mind the idea that hockey should be above everything and anyone else, that it was the only thing that mattered. and not only he had managed to slowly tear the most important bond in his life, but he had also fooled himself into thinking the feelings weren’t there anymore.
“hey, man. i’m going home, tara’s waiting for me. talk to you later?” chad asked.
ethan forced a smile and nodded. “yeah, go. i’m leaving in a few, too.”
chad walked out of the bar, and ethan’s heart reached another level of heaviness. his best friend was going home to celebrate with his girlfriend, he had managed to maintain his relationship while having the exact same responsibilities than ethan. the difference? chad had never failed to find balance and see how important life outside hockey was. ethan hadn’t, and now that hockey was over for a while, he realized he had nothing left.
with an emptiness no amount of drinks could ever fill, he walked back to the dorms, where some people were still on cloud nine from the win. he was congratulated, patted in the back, yet he could not enjoy his win completely. not when the guiltiness and regret lingered heavily over him. was it too late to try get back on track the relationship he had drove off the road?
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the celebration was certainly overwhelming for y/n because everything reminded her of ethan and the way he had locked her out when she was letting him in. hell, she was ready to say the l-word when he pushed her aside. the way he had broken her heart was one she remembered all too well, every word, every expression, every little movement.
ethan hovered over her, standing as she sat on the couch. frown on his face, pained expression, as if the act of letting out the words physically hurt him. “i don’t think i- i’m not sure if i… still have feelings for you. i don’t know, i just, it’s not the same as it was a months ago. it’s as if something is missing.”
“did it cross your mind that maybe the problem is that you put hockey first?”
“y/n that’s my future. of course i’m going to put hockey first.”
“sorry, let me rephrase that. did it cross your mind that maybe the problem is that hockey is all you care about? because it’s always about that. you have stopped having time for me since you became captain. do you even remember the last time you stayed over? that we went on a date? that we spend time together without you worrying over the championship or some other fucking match?”
“y/n…” he sighed.
“well, i can remember. three months, that was the last time you acted like a boyfriend. something was indeed missing in this relationship. you.”
“hockey is everything to me, y/n/n.”
“yes, and that’s the fucking problem, ethan. your whole life can’t revolve sorely on a sport. but you clearly can’t see that, so this is useless.”
that was the last time she spoke to him, but not the last she had seen him. it was impossible not to do that, he was blackmore’s hockey star, he was fucking everywhere. she, on the other hand, managed to hide in the shadows, so she made sure she stayed hidden and not bump into him. until now.
she was leaving tara’s dorm when her eyes caught his wide frame. her feet became one with the floor, not allowing her to move. like magnet, his attention quickly fell on her.
“y/n” her name fell out of his mouth absentmindedly.
at the sound of his rough voice, she snapped out of her daze. her lips parted, but she didn’t know what to say. and then his feet kept going until he was standing right before her. was it too much to ask to disappear?
“hi.” he said after a couple of seconds of silence.
“hi.” her soft voice warmed his heart, and he had to put his hands in his pockets to stop himself from bringing her into his arms. “um… congratulations. on the win.”
“thanks.” for the first time in the night, he truly felt like smiling.
“shouldn’t you be celebrating?” why was she still talking to him? her brain screamed ‘get out of here’ while her heart told her to stay.
“i wasn’t feeling it.” ethan shrugged.
y/n frowned. “you… weren’t feeling it? ethan, what are you talking about? you’ve worked so hard for this win.”
ethan let out a humourless laugh. “the funny thing is… it wasn’t until i lifted the cup that i realize that i wasn’t happy with the win.”
the girl blinked, trying to make sense of what he was saying. ethan landry, the boy who lived for hockey, was saying he wasn’t happy with winning a championship. what was wrong with the world? “i don’t understand.”
“what is succeeding if you don’t have anyone to celebrate it with? that trophy was a reminder of what i pushed away in order to get it. it made me feel miserable.”
“ethan…”
his sad gaze found hers. “what i’m trying to say is that i miss you, and that the win means nothing if you’re not with me. i looked around the stands, you weren’t there and it felt like a punch to the gut.”
she was certainly not ready to hear that. “let me remind you it was what you wanted, you ended it, ethan. you put hockey first, and it got us here.” maybe she was being a bit harsh, especially after he was pouring his heart out.
“i know. fuck. don’t i know it.” he was not going to cry. if y/n somehow managed to find it in her to forgive him, it was not going to be out of pity. but he wanted to sob so badly. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry. i was so fucking blind, and i hurt you.”
hurt was an understatement. ethan had absolutely broke her, and she had been trying to pick up the pieces of the mess he had made.
“i want to punch myself for everything i’ve done. for taking this long to realize i made a huge mistake. i don’t want for my life to revolve around hockey.”
y/n nodded. “that’s a good realization.”
“i don’t know what to say. there’s no justification for what i did, i was stupid and that’s the only truth. i… i want us back.” the anguish was written on his face. “i don’t know what to do to fix it.”
“all you had to do was stay… you had me in the palm of your hand. i would’ve done anything for you.”
“i know, you were too good for me. and i promise you i’ll work everyday to be the person you deserve, if you let me.” he put a strand of hair behind her ear. “i’m never making the same mistake again. i love you. you don’t have to decide now, take as long as you need. i’d wait forever.”
“you know it can’t be like before, right? you can’t keep this relationship in the lowest rank of your priorities.”
“i know, and i won’t. i love hockey, going professional is still my goal but now i know that my dream isn’t only hockey, is having you by my side while i play it.”
y/n slowly broke into a smile. “i would hate to see you succeed without me.” she grimaced as soon as the words clicked. “shit, that sounded so awful. i didn’t mean that i don’t want you to succeed unless you’re with me. that would be so bitchy, and i know you hurt me but i would neve-“
ethan couldn’t help himself, he cut her rambling with a soft kiss. “you’re the absolute cutest. i love it when you ramble.”
“it’s rude to interrupt someone, landry. you need to learn some manners.” she gave him a quick peck. “i guess i’m taking you back, or whatever.”
the hockey player smiled like a little kid and lifted her up on his arms. “i love you. did you know that?”
“i know it now. and i love you, too.” she wrapped her legs around his waist. “now, let’s go celebrate, captain.”
“fuck, yes. i have so many ideas.” the mischievous glint in his deep brown eyes made her stomach swirl.
“i’m down for anything if it’s with you.”
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klausysworld · 1 day
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Sinful
Klaus had become, to an extent, addicted to sex.
The amount of time he had spent indulging in his deepest fantasies over the course of a thousand years was unbelievable.
He had learned how to please himself and others.
He was able to tell what people liked or wanted just by their body language. He was able to tell what their darkest desires were.
Some girls were shyer with what they wanted, they would make him work for it and tease him. Klaus learned to enjoy the chase, the game of catching the girl and finally unraveling all those dirty little thoughts and playing with his new toy until she was all tired out and used.
Klaus often could't help himself but ruin women whenever they let him. The knowledge that they were his to break and claim turned him on enough and it was so easy for a man like him to push their limits and get whatever he wanted from them.
Girls would fall to their knees for him. The image of legs spreading was permanently engraved into his mind and the sweet scent of sex always span through his head.
As the centuries past by, woman had gotten a lot friskier. Much more forward and confident which made Klaus's desires much easier achieved. Especially in recent years, it meant he had been partaking in many more types of play.
From being in sex dungeons where he was able to literally use woman as personal fuck dolls to having someone restrain him and use him in return. There was very little Klaus would ever not do. There was also very little Klaus had not done aalready.
It was because of this, all this experience that he knew a girl like Y/n when he saw one.
She had been eyeing him as though he were nothing more than a piece of meat for her to sink her teeth into and as he trailed his eyes over her, he found himself doing the same back.
Y/n was what Klaus would call 'sex on a stick'.
She was gorgeous, flawless actually.
Legs long and toned, ass firm and round, waist tight and slender, breasts ample and tender, neck utterly delicious and biteable attached to a borderline angelic face.
But Klaus knew that she was no angel. No this girl was surely hand carved by the devil himself, utterly sinful.
Her eyes were dark under the dimly lit club lights. Admittedly Klaus had come there hoping to find someone to satisfy his needs but he hadn’t expected to be graced with a seductresses presence.
He looked right at her, soaking up the feeling of her attention. There was something daring about her gaze as though she were taunting him, testing to see if he would come over to her. Klaus didn’t bite the bait very often, he preferred for his women to come to him however he also knew how quickly someone like her could be snatched up.
Especially when he glanced around the club and noticed the other eyes she had on her.
He wouldn’t risk the opportunity to taste a treasure like her.
However when he moved to sit beside her, she pulled herself up and walked away from him. Klaus’s eyes narrowed in both annoyance and intrigue at the challenge as he followed her.
His hands slid up her hips and abdomen as she began to move along with the crowd in the centre of the room, the dance floor. Her body moved so smoothly that he could only imagine how well she could ride a man, how good her thrusts were. As her skin began to shine with heat, he pulled her closer to his body so that her squeezable ass could grind against his hard cock through his jeans.
Her head leant backwards until the back of it rest against her shoulder and he was presented with the site of such a delicious looking neck. Her hot breath tickled his ear in a way that sent shivers along his spine and made his hips press forward again.
His lips began to latch onto her skin, sucking and nipping up her throat slowly. A little giggle vibrated through her body as she kissed his ear teasingly and pulled her neck away from his mouth. A low growl left his chest and his hands gripped her body in need and possession.
She shifted round in his hold to face him. He pulled her right up close, squishing her breasts against him and sliding his hands down to her ass.
Klaus leaned forward so his face hovered just over hers. The music made it difficult for her to hear him but she watched as his lips moved. Eventually he spoke up, “I want you” he told her firmly and she laughed.
“You and everybody else” she answered, a taunting smile on her lips as she moved backwards but he wouldn’t let her get away from him. She was far too good to lose.
Klaus rolled his eyes and tugged her back to him, “Come on sweetheart” he hissed into her ear, his hands squeezing the firm flesh of her ass before kneading it. Y/n took slight amusement in her ability to have men all over her in the matter of seconds. Especially a man like him.
Someone like Klaus would get what he wanted, Y/n wasn’t a fool to that and she saw no bother in dragging it out too long but still, it was fun to watch the desperation set in.
She could feel how hard he was, how badly his body wanted her. Naturally she rubbed herself against him, allowing him that slight satisfaction to make his grip tighten further.
Y/n let out a little moan as the pain of how aggressively he held onto her ass, the mere idea of the things this man would do to her was enough to make her want him too.
Klaus responded to her display of pleasure and smacked her ass harshly to hear her breathy moan beside his ear. He breathed in the rich scent of her blood that pumped just below her silk-like skin.
The music vibrated through both their bodies as Y/n continued to move against him and welcome his eager hands as they groped and grabbed at everything she had to offer. Klaus slid his hand up to her throat and squeezed until he heard a sound of approval making his lips pull into a cruel smirk. He knew she was going to be something special.
Y/n could feel the delightful buzz of alcohol fuel her confidence as she brought her hand to cup his cock through his trousers. She caressed him firmly, enjoying how his hips ground back against her touch and his head tilted back in pleasure. Slight amusement made her lips twitch to a smirk as she squeezed his erection.
It took every ounce of control left in Klaus not to fuck her in front of all those people. Not to push her down onto her knees and fuck that perfect face until her vocal cords stopped working.
Fortunately for him Y/n could read his thoughts very well and slid her hands back up his body. She cupped his neck in her hands and smiled at him, her red lips curling enticingly.
"I hear there's a nice hotel a few streets over" she whispered, eyes shining with desire. Klaus nodded faintly, holding onto her hips as she lead them out of the club.
The cool air soothed his boiling body for a moment and he was able to think a little clearer. He pulled her flush against him making her squeal and stop walking, placing her hand on his chest and giving him a questioning look. Klaus, however, didn't have anything to say. He just desperately wanted to see her face in the moonlight, to feel her right there and then. Her hand felt like pure sin as he leant into it. Everything about her was sinful. And he loved it.
Y/n could see everything flashing through his eyes and slowly continued to guide him towards the block of hotels. Klaus was barely aware that his feet were moving as he felt all along her curves, stroking and squeezing as much as he could. Eventually they got into the building and after almost losing it and nearly taking her against the elevator wall, they got into a room.
Klaus finally let the animal in him out to play when they got inside. Her body was handled roughly as he threw her onto the bed and pinned her down with him on top of her.
Y/n laughed softly and ran her fingers through his hair as his lips and teeth attacked her jaw and neck. She laid back willingly and pet the beast that was so desperate to ravish her.
Her feet shifted to kick her heels off before she lifted one to press against her crotch, offering something for his throbbing cock to grind against. The contrast between his roughness and her softness stirred so much within him. Klaus couldn't help but tear the dress right off her body.
Y/n rolled her eyes to herself, wondering what she'd wear when she left in the morning but pushing the thought away when his big warm hands cupped her tits. His palms rolled over her nipples, before the heat of his mouth tugged at them.
"Fuck" she whispered breathily, her hand pushing his head encouragingly. Klaus had his eyes closed so she wouldn't see the wolf behind him as his tongue flicked over the hardened bud before switching to the other. His find could only imagine how gorgeous she would look with his cum splatted all over her tits. His hands squeezed them painfully as he pulled off her nipple with a loud 'pop'.
"I want to fuck these" He murmured, a growl to his voice that send a wave of warmth between her legs. Her hand lifted his chin, nails denting his skin as she pulled him up to kiss her lips at last.
They both moaned in unison as their tongues danced and played tauntingly at the other. Her fingers worked his clothes off his body, wanting him bare for her to touch and admire.
He pulled away from their passion as her hand tugged at his cock, he hadn't known himself to get quite so hard before. To the point where it pained him, he had to restrain himself from jerking himself off right then just to soothe himself. He knew if she tried to tease him that he wouldn't be able to help but cum. She knew it too.
Her hand stroked him firmly, once, twice, three times before he came with a loud guttural moan. Her humour filled laugh made his gut twist with humiliation but he couldn't overthink it. All he could think about was her.
"I hope you have more left in you" she teased and his skin blushed red as his wolf raged under the surface. He could see that she expected him to get embarrassed and defensive so he tried especially hard not to. Instead he simply rolled his eyes and pulled her against him again. His lips moulded back against hers and his hands caressed down to her hips.
"Don't mock me yet sweetheart, you won't last much longer than I" he muttered, brushing his fingertips over the soaked lips of her pussy. Her moans were like heaven and hell twisted together and he lusted for more of them.
The pad of his thumb caressed her clit slowly to begin with, teasing and spreading her wetness before a finger sunk into her. Y/n's eyes went back into her head and her teeth bit into her lip as she rolled her hips to feet his touch. The tightness of her cunt made his cock twitch again while his fingers worked her up.
"You like this sweetheart?" He murmured as his knuckles bent inside her and he stretched her with a second finger. Y/n nodded with a moan, bucking her hips to feel the delightful friction against her clit. "Your pussy feels so soft" He mumbled, more to himself than her but she still her heard him.
A breathless laugh left her as he pumped three fingers inside her, his eyes locked onto the way her cunt wept for him and the way her clit pulses with need. His thoughts blurred together as his hand sped him, effectively fucking her until her nails clawed at the sheets as her walls spasmed around his fingers. His breathing was as heavy as hers as he lifted his fingers to his lips and licked her fresh orgasm off of his skin.
Y/n was looking up at the ceiling, panting as she calmed down only for his hot tongue to press against her cunt. She cried out in pleasure, legs spreading for him to fully indulge himself between them.
He lapped at her like a man starved, his tongue curling passionately until the familiar taste of her cum filled his mouth again.
Y/n pushed him onto his back, kissing his lips deeply and forcing a groan out of him. Her hands caressed up his body to his chest. He grunted and his back arched when she sat on his cock, her pussy swallowing it whole.
"Fuck- angel!" he moaned and Y/n let out a soft laugh as she slowly rocked her hips, getting familiar with the feel of his dick inside her.
"Don't call me that" she whispered and he grunted, bucking his hips up in time with hers so that smack of their skin could be heard.
"Why not, angel?" he muttered, a little amused until his eyes locked onto hers.
Y/n's eyes were entirely black when he looked into them, in response his went gold against his will and a choked groan left him as she bounced faster on top his cock.
"Because I'm not an angel" she told him, her voice much lower and almost smoky as her words sunk in.
Klaus had no time to react before her teeth were in his throat.
An ironic turn of events for the hybrid as the demon fed on his soul.
Klaus's mind was a haze for the following hours though he was vaguely aware of what he was doing and the pleasure she was giving him.
The feel of her wicked tongue wrapped around the head of his cock was burned into his memory. Her pussy took him time after time again until they were both trembling with overstimulation.
Eventually they both passed out.
He woke a while later, when the sun was high in the sky.
He was laid beneath the covers with Y/n tucked to his chest. Visions of her true form flashed through his head and a slight feeling of fear mixed with the prominent intrigue he felt.
His body was heavy, too heavy for him to get up and he truly had to wonder what she had done to him and what she planned to do.
When she woke, she behaved as though it were a normal one-night stand. She smirked at him as he watched her get changed from the bed. Before she left she came to his side and stroked the side of his face, her touch so hot that it sizzled his skin,
"Don't worry Niklaus, your strength will restore" she whispered and his brows pulled together when she uttered his name though his heart sped up at her following sentence; "When I feel that you're ready, I'll find you again." She warned him as she kissed his lips and left.
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igotanidea · 23 hours
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Strain: Jason Todd x reader
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A/N: nsfw themes. Not explicit but still, so I'd rather put MDNI here.
***
Every touch every move every stroke had only one single purpose.
To bring her pleasure.
And judging by the soft moans and gasps of delight he was doing quite a good job at it.
"Mmh...Jay..." she whimpered.
"Like that, princess?" He made his voice deeper only to tease her more.
"Yes, please... So good, don't stop..."
"I won't" he leaned to plant a string of soft kisses on her delicate and exposed neck. In return she gripped the sheets, her body responding to the caresses and rocking it's been subjected to. And Jason couldn't help but grin from complacency.
At this point he was becoming rougher, compressing her body like something that belonged to him, that only he knew how to handle and worship in the right way.
How to make her satisfied.
"You're so responsive and I love it..." he gasped pawing her skin and every curve.
"Cause your working in all the right places..." she whined her voice a little muffled from the fact that her face was buried in the pillow. "Though I believe you're getting too excited..."
"Yeah, you're still so tense Princess."
"Yeah it's been a heavy week..."
"Don't worry, we'll get rid of that in no time... Just forget that and relax with me..."
His hands moved lower on her body, getting more curious, wandering in all the right places as he kept moving. What was even more exciting, was that she couldn't see him, as she was lying on her belly. It made all the situation even more bone-deep cause as she was focusing solely on the touch and not other senses.
"Oh yes...."
"Here?" He pressed on that one spot and she moaned in acknowledgement. "Guess it's here then..." He smirked while continuing his attack on the new found place.
"Shit!" She whined arching her back a little "it hurts!"
"I know baby but trust me you'll feel better in a moment..."
For a few good minutes the silence in the room were being torn only by the groans and rustling of the sheets and after then a deep sigh of relaxation made Jason aware he finally reached his goal.
With a signature smirk he pulled back and laid next to her side searching for her eyes.
"Feeling better sunshine?"
"Much better, thank you. Dare I ask where you learned all that things?"
"Self education." He grinned
"Oh really?"
"Yeah, see those muscles?" Jason pointed at his chest and body "they did not come from nothing. And with all the soreness i had to deal with throughout I had to learn a thing or two about anatomy. Guess it came handy tonight huh?"
"I'll be sure to use your sevices more in the future."
"Sure thing princess" he kissed her forehead affectionately "I'll get you a regular customer discount."
"Tease!" she nudged his shoulder.
"Hey!" his reaction was immediate and took a form of grabbing her wrist "behave princess, you know my massages are good for your health and posture, you have no contrargument to that."
"Ok, fine! fine! They are. But unless you want me to use someone else's services you'd better accept payment for kisses."
Jason groaned in frustration.
She always knew how to take away any words of objection from him.
So what else could he do rather than accept his fate, nod his head and enojy the little smooches all over his face in the form of thanks for his professional rub down?
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theemporium · 1 day
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A number 15 green-eyed mojito with Nico💚
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
15. "What would I be jealous about?”
.
“You’re staring.” 
“I’m observing.”
“If looks could kill, he would be dead.”
“Tragic.” 
“Oh my god,” Jack grumbled under his breath, shooting his captain a concerned look before shaking his head. “Remind me not to piss you off.” 
Nico rolled his eyes. “You piss me off quite often, actually.”
“I—” Jack paused, his eyes narrowing as he lightly jabbed his side with his elbow. “One, that was rude. Two, you need to calm down. You’re acting like a jealous boyfriend and you aren’t even her boyfriend. You’re just the jealous part.”
Nico scoffed, but he didn’t tear his eyes away from you. 
Because, as much as it pained him to admit, Jack was right. He was acting like a jealous boyfriend and he was fully aware of that. But it wasn’t like self-awareness couldn’t exactly stop the bitter feelings bubbling in the pit of his stomach as he watched the man openly flirt with you. 
“You know,” Jack continued, something quite like amusement in his voice. “This wouldn’t be a problem if you just grew the balls to ask her out.” 
And he hated that Jack was right again. 
The crush he had been harbouring on you was obvious to everyone with a pair of working eyes. Or at least, everyone except you. Since the day you started on the team, Nico had been all lovesick smiles and longing gazes, practically throwing himself at any social media opportunity he could just so he could spend time with you. It was a little embarrassing and pathetic, all things considered. 
But the worst part was that it had been a better part of two years and Nico had made no move to confess his feelings towards you.
Which then led to moments like now, where Nico had no real reason to feel as irritated as he was over some guy from the media team flirting with you.
“Shut up,” was all he managed to mutter out.
“This is actually really sad to watch,” Jack muttered before sighing deeply. “Just know that I’m doing this because, as your friend and alternate, I’m worried about you possibly breaking your jaw before making a move.”
Nico frowned a little. “What are you—”
But before Nico could even stop whatever stupid move Jack was going to pull, he was calling out your name and waving his hands in such an exaggerated and overly dramatic manner that Nico felt his cheeks heating up. 
“I hate you,” Nico muttered under his breath as you began making your way over.
“You’re about to hate me so much more but I know you love me,” Jack whispered back before he grinned at you, the words leaving his mouth so quick that Nico almost thought he imagined it when the younger boy said, “Nico is jealous.” 
And then, the fucker was running off and leaving a gaping Nico in the dust to deal with the consequences.
You blinked in surprise before you turned to the boy. “You’re jealous?” 
“Me? Jealous? What would I be jealous about?” Nico attempted to laugh off, but it was forced and dry and it didn’t quite land the way he wanted to when he noticed your brows furrowing in concern. “Jack is just messing about, don’t listen to him.”
“Really?” You questioned, watching as Nico quickly nodded in response. “So it has nothing to do with the fact you have spent the last fifteen minutes glaring at Thomas?” 
Nico blinked, feeling the blush spread from his cheeks to the tip of his ears. “Uh—”
“For what it’s worth, I’m not interested in him,” you said.
“Oh.” He couldn’t bring himself to care how happy he sounded, how hopeful.
“I’m interested in someone else,” you continued.
“Oh.” The disappointment was clear and heavy in his voice, inklings of the previous jealousy sinking into his response.
“You might know him,” you added, trying to bite back your smile when you watched his nose scrunch up. “He’s a hockey player, has a cute accent and pretty brown eyes. Think he might even be the captain or something.” 
Blood roared in his ears and he was pretty sure his smile was going to split his cheeks, but he didn’t care. “Really?”
“Yeah, but he’s a little blind,” you teased, almost looking a little bashful despite the unwavering confidence in your voice. “I’ve been waiting for him to ask me out but he hasn’t been catching my hints.”
“He sounds a little stupid,” Nico murmured. Maybe he would’ve felt embarrassed if his heart didn’t feel like it was about to beat out of his own chest. “But I bet he’s wondering if you’re free at seven tonight.”
“Let him know it’s a date,” you said, grinning right back at him.
.
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janaispunk · 1 day
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no one has to know what we do
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chapter 2 • series masterlist
pairing: Dave York x f!reader
summary: Try as you might, Dave and you can’t stay away from each other.
word count: 4.4k
tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, angst, daddy issues (reader’s dad sucks), able-bodied reader, reader has hair that Dave pulls, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, unprotected p in v, fingering, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, spanking, sooooo many pussy slaps (don’t look at us), pet names, let me know if anything is missing!
a/n: co-written with my love @joelscurls, who unfortunately couldn’t write this entire chapter the way we had originally planned, so you’re stuck with me again. if you notice that some parts are better written than others, those are most likely hers haha <3 this is lowkey my favorite thing that i’ve ever put out, and i hope you like it as much as i do 🤍
follow @joelscurlsupdates and @janaispunknotifs for updates and find jess’s masterlist here and my masterlist here :)
dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍
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The phone feels like a paperweight in your hand. It’s late — you should be sleeping, but you know it’s useless to even attempt shutting your eyes. It’s too loud in your head right now — that promise of just one time blaring: a warning. Still, you can’t help but consider ignoring it, texting David and begging to see him again.
It’s probably a bit pathetic, yearning for a man who made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you beyond a one night stand. Daydreaming about the timbre of his voice, the stretch of his cock. Getting his phone number from your father, who’s none the wiser. Your father, who is asleep in his own room just down the hall. Being home for the summer has never felt like such a burden.
Guilt eats at you as your fingers hover over the screen, David’s contact front and center. It would be so easy to send him a text right now, let him know you’re thinking about him. About the other night. But your conscience reins you in. Your father’s face flashes behind your eyes — rage and disappointment painting his features scarlet, and you drop the phone beside you on the mattress with a huff.
It’s difficult to even imagine the inevitable severity of his reaction if he ever found out. He’d probably cut you off, the revelation of you whoring around with his friend — and the possibility of this news getting out, tarnishing your family’s pure reputation — more than enough for him to disown you.
You hate him sometimes. Hate the life he’s forced onto you. You’re not even interested in studying law — not really. You never had a choice, though. It was determined before you even graduated high school that you’d follow in your dad’s footsteps. And as long as he’s funding your studies, your future, you have no right to complain. This is the life you should want. The life everyone wants. He reminds you of that fact regularly. Him, and his countless snooty club buddies.
But David — David is refreshing.
He doesn’t come from old money. He doesn’t pinch your cheeks and talk around you rather than to you, declarations of you must be so proud aimed at your father as you stand awkwardly to the side. You’re pretty sure he’s the first person outside of your professors to really look at you, take interest in anything you have to say in… god knows how long.
You can still feel his eyes boring into you. The subtle but tactful brush of his leg against yours under the table. The exhilaration that had thrummed in your veins. He’d made you feel something. You’d almost forgotten you could feel anything apart from stress and agitation. And as you lay in bed, mind swimming with arousal and impending remorse, you fear you may not be able to control yourself much longer, consequences be damned.
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He’s not expecting you to reach out.
Why would you? You’d mutually agreed on that night in his car being a one time thing — just a hookup; something he would’ve done before meeting Carol. Something he should probably be doing more often now. Except you’ve somehow sunk your teeth in him, injected him with a sort of venom.
Because all he can think about is seeing you again.
It’s wrong — beyond wrong. You’re so young; still in college, for christ sake. He never met you before the other night, but he’d been stationed overseas with your father when your mother was pregnant with you. He still remembers reading the letters she’d sent in care packages over his shoulder, the ones detailing her symptoms, what foods she was craving.
Strawberries. She always wanted strawberries. Maybe that’s why you’re so sweet.
He’s never been with a woman like you; never had someone trust him with so much vigor. Your needy little pleas, your vehement obedience, your desperation to take all of him in the driver’s seat of his car — you are nothing short of intoxicating.
Still, he tells himself you’re off limits. Trudges through the days that follow with the thought of you bouncing in his lap fogging his head. Struggles to focus at work and recovers in an increasingly poor manner when called on in meetings.
And then, late on a Friday night, you text him.
He only knows it’s you because you tell him so — your full name flashing across the screen followed by an apology for messaging him so late. You say you’re out with friends, and he’d probably have guessed anyway by the typos littering your sentences.
Seconds after the first, another text comes through:
[1:23am] csnt stop thinking about u. pls see me again i promise i won’t twll anyone
Fuck. Fuck.
His muscles tense; his cock twitches in his boxers. And before he does something stupid, like responds, he sets the phone face down on his bedside table. Stalks off to the bathroom with the intention of taking an icy-cold shower, detoxing himself best he can.
He hasn’t even closed the door yet when he hears it ring.
The rhythmic jingle drones through his studio apartment, and he all but leaps at the noise. Sure enough, it's you, calling him drunk in the middle of the night.
His head swims. He presses ‘answer’ anyway.
“David?” Your voice sounds so sugary-sweet, cloying with innocence. He can hear people in the background, maybe your friends, talking about getting another round of drinks.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asks first. You tell him yes; say you're waiting on a rideshare.
He exhales. And even though hearing you is making him dizzy with a fucked up sort of desire, echoes of your pleasured sounds ringing in his ears, he manages to maintain composure when you say, “can I please come over?”
“Don't think that's the best idea,” he mutters. The lack of conviction in his words would likely be painfully obvious if you weren't intoxicated. But you are, and you whine through the receiver at his rejection.
Dave fights to ignore the increasing stiffness in his boxers.
“Please,” you beg. Fuck, he loves the way you sound when you beg. “I just got off the phone with my dad…he doesn't want me coming home so drunk; said he's working on a case and I’ll be a nuisance.”
His heart breaks for you. For the girl who just wants a father who loves her, who sees her as a person with feelings. Dave can't imagine ever treating his daughters this way. Would never dream of it.
“C-can I?” your voice sounds through the speaker again — softer, less sure. Like you've prepared yourself already for the blow of him rejecting you too.
“Can't– can’t you stay with one of your friends?”
You sigh, defeated. “I want to stay with you.”
It’s not that he doesn’t want to. God, it would be so easy to say yes. To go and pick you up from the bar himself, bring you back to his place. Help you sober up a bit and fuck you until you can't take it anymore. But he can’t; he shouldn't even be speaking to you right now. He needs to cut this off. Needs to make it clear to you that you can't reach out to him again.
“You– we can’t.” He’s stern, direct. It pains him. “The other night shouldn’t have happened.” True, though he doesn’t regret it. Not one bit.
You’re quiet on the other end of the line for a second too long. When you finally do speak again, your voice breaks.
“You don’t like me?”
He’s going to tell you that of course that’s not it, that he’s been thinking about you constantly, that he wishes he could get you out of his fucking head. But he doesn’t get the chance. Because your friends are laughing boisterously around you, then, sounds growing more and more muffled through the speaker, and you’re telling him rather unceremoniously that you have to go.
The call disconnects with a beep.
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You wake the following morning with a dizzying headache, daylight burning a hole between your eyes. With your friend still soundly asleep, you slip out of her room and then her apartment; find yourself home just as your father is getting ready to leave for work.
His travel mug sits on the entrance table as he pulls his shoes on, and you're immediately met with the smells of coffee and his leathery cologne.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” he mutters as he grabs his briefcase. You don't dare look him in the eyes, lest you be met with their disapproving stare.
“Hi,” you reply, small and non confrontational. When he doesn't answer, you continue past him, begin your ascent up the stairs toward your room.
“Not very appropriate for a young professional, going out and getting wasted. Your future employer could've been there. Could've seen you acting like an imbecile.”
Annoyance furls behind your temples; makes the pounding in your head grow tenfold.
“Well then they probably won't be my future employer,” you snip.
“Probably not.”
You hear the front door close behind you and, with an agitated sigh, drag your feet the rest of the way up the stairs. You fall onto the covers of your bed, well aware that you should probably shower, but your body feels too heavy, in no way ready to move again just yet.
When you pull out your phone, ready for some mindless scrolling to numb your thoughts for a while, you’re met with a notification that sends your heart racing.
Have fun last night?
From David, sent five minutes ago.
You hastily scroll up, reading your own texts from last night, full of typos and barely coherent. csnt stop thinking about u. Your head falls back with a groan. You had gone out to forget about him, not to drunkenly confess your feelings to him in the middle of the night.
Now that you’re thinking about it, you also vaguely recall speaking to him. You tap on your call log and sure enough, there’s his name, only minutes after you texted him. You have no idea what you might have said to him, only a blurry memory of being upset about something. Great, this is great.
Sighing deeply, you go back to messages.
i was very drunk. sorry for bothering you
His reply comes almost instantly.
Who said you bothered me?
You’ve only met him once, and yet you can picture his smirk as if you’ve seen it a thousand times.
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Dave is sipping his coffee, black, no sugar, and listens to Jim going over his plans for the both of them going golfing next weekend, humming occasionally.
It pains him, looking at the man in front of him, while your voice from last night is still ringing through his head. How hurt you sounded, looking for a place to stay, not being welcome in your own home.
When Jim stands up to leave for work, he remains seated, gesturing towards his half eaten bagel, but assuring the other man that he doesn’t have to wait for him.
You still haven’t left his thoughts. If anything, the longing he feels for you has gotten worse since you told him how much you want to see him again. And he’s so tired of denying himself the one thing he really wants.
He’s patient, chipping away at the bagel until he sees your father’s gray Dodge peel out of the parking lot. And then he gives it another 10 minutes, just to be safe.
Come join me for coffee? I’m downtown at Roasted Beans.
You respond moments later — such an obedient little thing, you are — letting him know you’ll be there shortly. He finishes off his drink, discards the cup along with the bagel wrapper, and orders two fresh coffees.
He sees you before you see him. Eyes wide, lips parted ever so slightly, you look so cute as you scan the cafe. You’re wearing a sundress, the blue fabric dancing around your thighs with every turn of your body, and Dave finds himself entranced by you.
You smile when you finally catch sight of him, your entire face lighting up and he smiles back without a second thought.
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You shouldn’t meet him again. You really, really shouldn’t. But the conversation with your father this morning keeps replaying in your head, the disapproval weighing heavy on you, the feeling of being unable to do anything right.
You long for someone to look at you without judgment, for the sound of good girl against your skin. You long for David.
After last night and the fact that he obviously didn’t invite you over, you had thought that for him, maybe it really had been a just one time thing. Like you both had agreed on multiple times.
But then he’d texted you again, asking you to meet him. It’s almost embarrassing, how quickly you got ready, eager to see him again, despite knowing better.
On the drive over, you run through countless discussions in your head, trying to decide what you’re going to say to him. You have to be reasonable. There’s too much at stake. David is a mistake that you wouldn’t be able to come back from. You’re just going to meet him because he asked you to, because that’s the nice thing to do. It’ll just be coffee, nothing more.
Your resolve crumbles as soon as you see him. His eyes are already on you, their expression so full of want that it makes you ache. You walk over, feigning confidence as you slide onto the chair next to his, a quiet greeting on your lips. The deep, smooth sound of his voice when he returns it is enough to make you melt.
He has already ordered for you. It’s a small thing, rationally, but it’s once again more care, more attention than you’re used to. Warmth is spreading through your chest, but you try steeling yourself, forcing out the words that you’ve prepared to say.
“Listen, I want to apologize about last night. I shouldn’t have– I wasn’t thinking straight, I’m sorry for bothering–”
“Hey, sweetheart.” He interrupts your nervous stuttering, his hand gently wrapping around yours on the table. “I already told you that you didn’t bother me. If anything–” He sighs, his grip tightening. “I’m the one who’s sorry, you were looking for somewhere to stay, I shouldn’t have turned you down like that.”
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It breaks Dave’s heart, seeing how you’re making yourself smaller, how ready you seem for him to scold you. Your quiet You don’t like me? still echoes in his mind. How your own father didn’t care where his daughter spent the night, as long as she didn’t come home. Didn’t bother him.
He clocked the way your eyes widened in surprise at the coffee that he got you, how you huff a relieved breath when he assures you again that he’s not annoyed with you. You’re so sweet, so deserving of being loved and cared for, and he so desperately wants to be the person who does that for you.
He felt the same pull from that night towards you as soon as he laid eyes on you again, and it’s only gotten worse, now that you’re right next to him, now that he’s touching the soft surface of your hand. He vividly remembers how your skin felt under his fingertips, how you writhed against him.
The urge to get just a taste of that again becomes overwhelming. He holds your gaze as his fingers start gliding over your thighs under the table, inching towards the hem of your dress. Your lips part, the softest whimper escaping your throat at his touch.
He shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t be touching you like this, shouldn’t be thinking about you like this. Can’t stop thinking about you. I want to stay with you. How is he supposed to keep away, to stop himself, when you come to him so willingly, so desperate to be wanted?
“David?” Fuck, he loves that you call him that. “Will you take me home with you? Please?”
He can tell that you’re scared to ask, bracing yourself to be rejected again. He’s not nearly as strong as you think he is.
“Yes. Come on.”
He pulls you to your feet and out of the door before either of you have the chance to change your minds.
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He’s a bad man, shouldn’t be getting off on having total control over you like this. He’s probably sick; should see that shrink Carol recommended a couple months ago after the divorce was officially finalized. But the way you’re looking at him — with the same big-eyed, doleful stare you’d given him that first night — tells him you want this. Need this, even. You long to relinquish control to someone other than your hawkish father.
So pliant in his lap, limbs all gooey and relaxed under his touch, it’s clear that you trust him. Maybe more than he trusts himself.
You’re spread out on his couch, clothes hastily discarded as soon as the both of you stumbled over the threshold, already entangled in each other. He’s led you to the living room, the thought of fucking you in his bed, of your presence lingering there, your scent permeating his sheets, the last invisible line that he’s determined not to cross.
He has been toying with your body, collected your wrists in a hold over your head and told you to keep them there while he flicked and tugged on your nipples, sucked marks into your skin while you writhed underneath him.
He’s taking it slow, now that you’re here with him, now that he has the time to thoroughly break you down and put you back together again.
You’re already soaked when he sinks a finger into you, your tight walls clenching around him immediately. You coo up at him — a needy little noise that has his resolve disintegrating in seconds flat — and you look relieved when his hand loosely wraps around your throat.
“Please,” you whisper then, and he tuts.
“You want me to take care of you?”
You nod.
“Then you take what I give you. No begging. Do I make myself clear?”
Another noise — this one smaller, stuck in your throat — and he’s pulling his finger out of you again, lips curling into a cruel smile.
He doesn’t give you any time to prepare before the first slap lands on your already-throbbing clit. You can’t help but shriek. In response, he tightens the grip on your throat slightly. Gives three more stinging smacks in quick succession. Dave almost doesn’t notice when your eyes begin to roll back. He does notice, however, when your hips begin to roll upward, your body chasing his hand.
“Oh, such a good girl you are,” he praises.
Slap.
“You love this, don’t you?”
“Mhm,” you moan, garbled and a little breathless.
Slap.
“Pathetic little girl. Bet you could come just from this, you’re so desperate. Couldn’t you?”
You gasp.
Slap.
“Answer me,” Dave demands. “Or I’ll stop.”
It’s almost comical how quickly you sputter the word yes, eyes desperately pleading with him to keep going. And he’s almost shocked just how badly you needed this. In this moment, any guilt he’d been feeling is replaced with the desperate desire to give you exactly what you crave.
He slaps you again, a little harder this time, and you wail. Your legs are trembling, but you make no move to close them, keeping yourself spread wide open and accessible for him.
He’s throbbing, fighting the urge to sink his cock into your tight heat, but he wants, needs to know how far he can push you. How far you’ll go for him.
You’re dripping onto his cushions and he collects some of your slick with his fingers, rubs them against your clit. Your skin is burning under his fingertips. He teases the oversensitive nub with gentle touches, relishes in the way your eyes are glued to his face, the way your lips are trembling as you’re silently pleading with him.
No words are escaping you, and you’re so good, making him so proud with how you’re following his commands.
He slaps your clit again, and again, and again, until you’re a babbling mess, your throat constricting against his grip and your back arching as you come with a cry. Wetness floods out of you and you’re shuddering in his hold, broken whimpers of his name falling from your lips.
He watches with sick fascination, almost unable to believe that he drove you to this point. How much you enjoy being treated like this. That you’re just as twisted as he is.
When you come down, your arms weakly reach for him and he scoops you up, pulls you into his lap until your face is nuzzled into his neck.
“Good girl,” he coos, gently stroking your hair, “you did so good.”
He gives you a few moments to rest, tracing shapes across your back, until his fingers dip deeper, gliding over your ass and between your spread legs, where you’re still so fucking wet.
You squirm under his touch, needy little sounds traveling up to his ears once more. “Please,” you whisper.
One hand grabs into your hair, pulling your head back until he can see your face. You look wrecked. Pupils blown wide, your eyes wet with tears, but what really gets him is the way you look at him. He had worried, for a second, that he might have been too rough, but there’s only pure trust and longing in your eyes.
“I thought I told you no begging.”
You bite your lip, furrow your brow in that adorable way of yours. “I’m sorry. It just– it all feels so good.”
He presses his thumb down on your bottom lip, releasing it from your teeth.
“I know it does, sweetheart. You need more?”
You nod quietly, your eyes wide and pleading.
“Alright then.” He turns you over so quickly that you gasp, scrambling for a second to get your bearings. You’re on all fours, your legs still spread, your ass on display for him.
He had wanted to prepare you a little more, to give you several of his fingers first before he stretches you out on his cock, but he can’t possibly hold back any longer. Judging from the loud moan that you let out, he thinks that you like the sting of him sinking into you unprepared.
It’s even better than he remembers, your slick walls engulfing him so tightly. He starts pounding into you, the depth of his thrusts jolting your body forward and forcing more sounds from you.
He wants you to still feel him tomorrow, wants you to remember him, wants to stake a claim that he knows he doesn’t have. He groans your name, his fingers digging into your hips, greedy for every part of you that he can reach.
Perfect, you’re so fucking perfect, giving yourself to him like this.
“Come on,” he growls, reaching down to find your clit again, rubbing in tight circles. “Give me another one.”
You cry out, pushing back against him. So fucking eager. He lands two quick slaps on your ass and you fall apart, trembling wildly as your walls pulse around him and you scream out his name.
He can’t hold himself back any more and follows you over the edge, pumping into you once more and holding your hips pressed against his.
You both collapse down onto his couch, a mess of tangled, sweaty limbs and quick breaths. You curl your body into his and he presses kisses against your cheeks, your temples, your lips.
Slowly, as he’s coming back to his senses, the guilt settles in.
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He lets go of you much too quickly, stands up and starts getting dressed quietly. You watch him for a moment, wracking your mind for something to say, before he looks at you.
“Get dressed. I’ll drive you home.”
He sounds cold, distant. So different from the man who just took you to heights that you didn’t know existed until now. You suppress a shiver and get up hastily. Suddenly, being naked around him feels much too exposed, too vulnerable for your liking.
You pull your dress over your head and slide your shoes back on, but one crucial item is missing.
“Did– did you see my underwear?” you force yourself to ask. He shakes his head, not gracing you with a verbal answer.
Eventually, you give up the search and follow him down the stairs and into his car. The silence grows, until its weight is pressing down, almost suffocating you. You steal glances at him, but his eyes are fixed on the road, staring straight ahead, never wavering. A muscle in his jaw is ticking.
The mix of his spend and yours is pooling between your legs, but it makes you feel dirty now. You force down the lump that’s building in your throat.
When he stops in front of your house, you scramble out of the car without a word. You don’t know what would be worse, if he said goodbye like nothing was wrong or if he remained silent. You don’t want to find out.
It’s late in the evening, you’re lying on your bed, eyelids squeezed shut, willing sleep to finally overtake you. Thoughts keep spiraling through your head, so many questions that you have no answers to.
He asked you to meet up, for fuck’s sake. You don’t understand why he’s treating you like this, but you’re determined to not let it happen again. Just two times, you think with a bitter scoff.
Your phone vibrates on your bedside table, indicating a new message.
[11:55pm] I can’t stop thinking about you either.
Attached is a photo. A photo of a familiar lacy scrap of fabric, grasped in his hand and covered in milky white cum.
It’s filthy, and wrong, and you feel yourself getting obscenely wet at the thought of him touching himself with your missing panties clutched between his fingers.
Maybe just one more time.
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look-at-the-soul · 2 days
Text
Every little thing you do- Part 3
Tommy Shelby x reader
Series master list
A/N: I’m sorry I couldn’t post this past Saturday something came up, so next part will be posted on next Wednesday and so on until I go back to post each Saturday. ♥️ Thank you for reading and engaging in this little idea! It means a lot!
Word count: 3,038
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After listening to the doctor assure her that the baby was fine last week, Y/N had a lot of time to think and digest all the major changes she was about to face. She couldn’t help but stay up at night and cry endlessly on her own, but after a few days Y/N had finally made a decision. It wasn’t easy, but like her grandmother had said, she didn’t have many options.
Polly had also talked to her with her heart on her sleeve. She had assured her that in the end, women did well with or without a man by their side, her own husband passed away after getting too drunk, Tommy’s father wasn’t the best example to lead a family, Y/N knew too well how their relationship ended up, Ada had married Freddy only for him passing away too soon and she had raised Karl on her own.
She was right, but there was a huge difference, regardless of the useless men in their lives, they still had their last name as support. It didn’t mean anything, but legally it granted them more rights than being a single mother. The injuries on her back had been healing, she was now able to wear her regular clothes and even though she still flinched at times from the pain, it felt nice to move around more freely.
At least she had a place to sleep and food to eat, so at the moment she got it covered. She needed to save as much money as she could though, she had to think of the future.
Staring out the window, she noticed Tommy parking outside, so she rushed downstairs.
“Tommy,” Y/N greeted him. He had been to London, but barely stayed for a night. “How was your trip?”
Tommy hesitated for an instant. Under different circumstances he would’ve shared the new business Mr. Churchill had mentioned at their meeting, but he thought Y/N already had enough in her plate to add anymore pressure. He was still deciding how to manage everything with the Russians and until he got clearer instructions he’d try to keep her out of it.
“Good. I still need to go back next week though.” He followed Y/N into the kitchen, placing a small paper bag on the table. “Brought you something.”
Y/N filled two cups of the tea she started earlier and as she was about to take them to the table, Tommy rushed to get them from her hands.
“I can walk around with them, Tom. I’m only pregnant.” Y/N chuckled at his sudden protectiveness.
“Yeah, what if you feel dizzy? You could burn yourself.” He added worryingly.
But Y/N was busy drooling over the bread Tommy brought.
“Well?” Tommy gave her a long look as he added sugar to his tea.
Y/N looked up at Tommy with her mouth full, the bread was so good!
“Oh! Right… I just wanted to ask if you’re still good with the idea of me living in Arrow House? I don’t want this to cause you troubles with someone.” She took a deep breath and stared down at her hands.
Tommy blinked a couple of times in confusion. “Problems with who? What do you mean?”
It was hard to put her feelings into words, the right words as a matter of fact. Lately she had been having lots of big feelings, lots of things to be afraid of…
Y/N moved nervously. “I’ve never been noisy about your personal affairs Tom, and I don’t want to be in the middle in case you’ve a-a you know… a woman in your life.” She admitted, her voice trailing off by the end.
He squinted his eyes, not quite believing what he just heard. Then he started laughing, a loud, genuine laugh. “This is ridiculous, you’ve nothing to worry about.”
Only then, she dared to look at him, to read his expression.
“Is this what’s keeping you from accepting? Y/N, look,” Tommy took a few steps towards her, his hands found their way to her cheeks to make her look at him. “I’m going to help you no matter what. Just tell me if you accept or not, I’ll take care of the rest.”
They have had each others back over the years, and now it wouldn’t be different.
“I do need to ask you for a favor though.” Y/N folded her arms. “I will need that job you offered me as secretary a while ago.”
“But you’re pregnant.” He protested.
She was already shaking her head. “I don’t want your pity or charity, I need to work.”
With a sigh, Tommy found himself nodding in agreement. She was stubborn and wouldn’t stay still for too long.
“Deal. Although if you feel sick…”
“I’ll take it easy, I promise.”
This time, it was Tommy who pulled her in for a hug, grateful because Y/N accepted the help he was offering genuinely.
“What made you change your mind from your initial decision?” He asked with curiosity.
Y/N took a sip of her tea, feeling grateful after noticing her stomach was taking it nicely. “My grandma helped me see it through. This is the most decent offer I’ll probably get.”
“So you’re accepting because it’s your only option?” Tommy teased.
“Shut up.” She shoved him slightly on the shoulder.
She still needed to send a letter to Lady Winchester to let her know she wouldn’t be able to return to work. Until now she had lied and said she got sick and didn’t want to risk her, but she needed to digest this upcoming change first.
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Later that week, Y/N had officially moved into Arrow House. She didn’t own many things other than her clothes that her grandmother managed to take from her house, her hairbrush and a small bag that Polly gave her. So here she was, on her way to an unknown future full of uncertainty, but with a little baby growing inside her. And the incondicional support of the people who were so close to her heart.
Everyone in the Shelby family had been nothing but kind and welcoming to her, offering to help her carry whatever she had on her hands, telling her how they would welcome the baby with a peaky cap and defend her from cruel comments.
Her eyes danced around, she still gasped at the sight of the spacious foyer, the only difference she noticed is that it now had more furniture and different curtains.
“Mary.”
“Good evening Mr. Shelby, may I take your coat?” A maid welcomed them, moving fast to get the coat from him, she then pointed at the briefcase. She even had uniform!
“This is Miss YL/N, she’ll use the guest bedroom I asked you to prepare.” Then he turned to face Y/N. “Mary will help you with everything, please make yourself at home.”
“Nice to meet you.” Y/N admitted with a smile, but deep down she was in shock to see that a maid was practically guessing Tommy’s every move.
“Of course Mr. Shelby.” The maid gave her a subtle look, but didn’t ask any more questions. “Follow me Miss.”
Turning around, Tommy changed his mind. “Actually… Mary take her suitcase upstairs, Y/N come with me.”
Feeling overwhelmed, she followed him, crossing a huge room, Tommy explained her it was his office, he was holding the door open for her to walk in.
“An office! Look at this place… it’s bigger than our kitchen and living room together.” Y/N couldn’t believe this, she took her time to take everything in; the impressive desk, the endless bookshelves -some where still empty-, the fireplace. “You got a painting?!”
Tommy looked down, understanding her surprise. “Is it too much?” Sometimes it all felt surreal to him.
Y/N didn’t think it was her place to point wherever it was or not too much, he could do whatever he pleased with his wealth.
“It’s just I’m not used to all of this.” She shuddered.
There was something different sparkling in his eyes. It was like she was watching the boy with big dreams and killer smile all over again.
“Yeah… me neither.”
Tommy took a long puff of his cigarette, but Y/N wrinkled her nose.
“Are you feeling sick?” He noticed the sounds she made, she was holding her stomach with one hand.
“I think it’s the smell of the cigarette.”
“Shit.” Tommy opened the window and curtains to allow some fresh air to get in and then he stomped his almost untouched cigarette on the ashtray. “Better?”
“Thanks.” She then chuckled. “Sorry I don’t want to be a burden for you.”
“Hey it’s fine, it’s just a cigarette.” He waved at the air to keep the smell from concentrating in the room.
A knock on the door caught their attention, Y/N even jumped in her seat a little.
“Mr. Shelby, dinner will be ready shortly.” Mary announced.
He nodded and asked for a glass of water for Y/N.
“This feels so surreal if you ask me.” She made a funny face that made him laugh.
“I guess I’ll get used to it.”
Pouring some whiskey into the new glassware set he got, he thought about it.
“Look at us.” Y/N said absently, her face moving towards the ceiling. “Who would have thought you’d get a place like this and I’d be expecting a child without a male support.” She rubbed a hand on her still non-existent bump.
Tommy clicked his tongue and gave her an offended look. “What about me?”
“You know what I mean.” She added after noticing his eyes fixed on her.
“How about dinner?” He offered his hand to Y/N. “Let’s see what the chef prepared. Ey?”
Earning another chuckle from Y/N guided her towards the opposite end. A huge table set just for them.
“There’s another painting!” Y/N pointed through gritted teeth.
A huge portrait of Tommy hanged immaculately on the wall. She could barely keep up with the things going on in her life, but it seemed to be surprise after surprise with his own news.
“Just ignore it.” Tommy suggested taking his place at very end, right under the painting. “I needed to spend some money.”
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Rolling her eyes at him, Y/N joined him unsure. “Where should I sit then?”
Patting the place next to him, Tommy stood up. “Right here, next to me.” And he held the chair for her, like a true gentleman. A gesture no one had ever made towards her.
“Are you sure I can’t sleep downstairs? I’ll take me forever to walk down… image how I’ll roll down once I get all heavy?”
The image of her swollen stomach invaded his mind for a second, Tommy stopped with his hand holding the glass midway, until he shook his head a little.
“You always love to exaggerate it, it’s not so big.” He added as come back.
“It’s huge and you know it.” She added just before the maids brought their plates.
Y/N was about to take a bite of her food when she noticed something.
“Tommy.” She whispered, making Tommy lean forward. “Do they have to stay there and stare? This is awkward.”
Tommy laughed freely.
“Mary, would you give us a moment?”
“What if you need-”
“I’ll call you.” He interrupted.
She was surprised to see them following Tommy’s requests in a heartbeat. They were eager to please him in every possible way.
“This is insane, they’re watching your every move.”
Tommy chuckled unsure of what to say, he was still trying to adjust to this new lifestyle, trying to be part of a select club to fit in the upper class.
“Well I’m paying them a ridiculous amount of money.”
“You know what I mean.” She stated smirking.
He did, of course he did.
This was the kind of things people like he and Y/N could only dream a few years ago.
“Just enjoy it, you’ll get used to it.”
He smiled at his friend, understanding her confusion. A major change like that in his life didn’t happen overnight, it took time and a lot of effort to built the fucking empire he now owned. It was about damn time that he started getting a small luxury like that property or the service for the place.
Y/N had to admit the food was delicious, she had never tasted anything better than that meal.
“I’m really proud of you.” She expressed as they finished. “It’s like you made your dreams come true, you made it out of Small Heath not from the back door, you made it through the main gate.”
Tommy swallowed hard, Y/N was the only person that had celebrated with him the small victories just as the big ones. He was lost for words, to realize that she felt proud of him meant more that he could express.
“Would you like dessert?” Mary asked folding her hands.
Turning to face Y/N, Tommy realized the way her eyes sparkled. “Just one for her, please.”
She groaned. “This is going to be a problem, you’re going to make me put on some weight with all of this food.”
“Well you need to feed that baby.” Tommy leaned his elbows on the table.
“You don’t even know how grateful I am to have you in my life, you’re saving our lives.” She touched his arm.
“That’s what friends do.” He chuckled as he saw her mouthwatering expression over the plate.
A few moments later, Tommy walked her towards her bedroom.
“This is insane, a small living room inside my bedroom?!” Y/N couldn’t believe how spacious it was.
“There’s the walk in closet, and this additional wardrobe, the vanity… everything you might need.” He added pacing around, slowly. Hands hiding in his pockets. “I think you will particularly enjoy this.”
He then pointed at the window seat. Y/N gasped in surprise, she hadn’t noticed it.
“Woah… Tommy.”
When she turned around, Tommy noticed the tears in her eyes.
“Hey what’s wrong?” He stepped closer.
“You’re just so good to me, I can’t thank you enough for providing a roof to sleep under.” Y/N sobbed.
Her vulnerability broke him. It tore him apart to realize how hard this was to her. His arms found their way around her immediately.
Emotions coming out in the form of tears.
“Y/N… talk to me.”
“It’s just…sad to see my own family doing this to me. The days I spent at Watery Lane, they never went to ask how I was doing.” A sudden sob interrupted her explanation. “To check if I needed something.”
He didn’t know what to say, her family’s message was clear and he could only imagine how she was feeling.
“But you’ve my family,” he offered rubbing her back, “we’ll be with you every step of the way. Try to forget about it, you need to be calm.” He then took a step back, but kept touching her arm, “Think of your baby.”
That seemed to do the trick, because his words made Y/N smile.
“You’re so right.” Y/N took a deep breath. “Scott made his choice and so did my family. From now on it will be this baby, me, Grandma, you and the Shelby family. That’s all I need.”
A half smile appeared on her face. He knew the process wouldn’t be easy, it’d take her some time to rebuild herself, but she had the determination and courage to carry on with whatever obstacle life decided to make her face.
A flash back ran through Tommy’s mind, he went back to the warehouse and he could still hear Scott’s pleads for his life. The blinders had been playing with him for a while and Tommy took his time. But when he faced him, Scott’s eyes were fully swollen, an ugly lip cut and several bruises all over his face.
“You thought you could fuck off like a rat?! Ey?!” He shouted in his face, yanking his hair so Scott could be face to face with him. “Thought it would fun to mess around with Y/N?”
A twisted smirk appeared on Scott’s lips, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Tommy so he moved his hand back and hit him hard across the face with his fist several times.
“This is for fooling Y/N.” Tommy announced and kicked him.
“And this for not taking responsibility over the baby.” He kicked Scott between his legs this time. “Fucking coward.”
Now, with Scott lying on his back groaning in pain, Tommy stepped over him, holding him by the shirt with one hand. “And this for telling me to fuck off.”
It took three blinders to make Tommy step back, he was determined to finish him. He had to take deep breaths through his mouth from the exertion and adrenaline rush. His heart was pumping so hard and fast against his ribs.
“I want you out of the city and you better never come back. Because next time I’ll fucking kill you.”
End of flashback.
“You’re safe now.” Tommy helped her gently to sit on the edge of the bed. “You can have a new beginning here with your baby. I can assure you, you’ll get everything you need.”
Tommy offered Y/N his handkerchief.
“You deserve everything good in world Tommy.”
She knew that he meant every word, and most importantly, he’d keep his promises.
“Now have some rest, you’ve been through a lot.” He groaned as he stood up.
“At what time should I be at the office?” Y/N asked when her friend reached the door.
“8:00 o’clock,” he winked, “but I’ll drive you. Good night.”
As she thanked her best friend one more time and wished him good night, Y/N stared at the spacious bedroom. It was unbelievable, a dream she was afraid to wake up from.
Her heart still felt heavy for not having her family’s support, but in some way she felt secure and protected under Tommy’s wing.
And for now, that was enough.
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Master list
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mrsriddles-blog · 2 days
Text
Mania | T.N
Pairing: Theodore Nott X Slytherin Fem Reader
WC: 5.5k+
Warnings/Notes: Mild language, slow-burn, drugs...
Summary: In which you are Theodore Nott's mania...
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“Mattheo Riddle…Tom Riddle and Y/n Riddle…hm, I believe this is the first time I’ve had all three Riddle’s in my class this year at once. It’s good of you to finally show up for your lessons, triplets.” Professor Umbridge says.
“We are more than happy to grace you with our presence.” Mattheo says cheekily.
“I don’t believe I asked for your input.” She says, looking over him once.
“I don’t believe we asked for yours.” Mattheo says.
“Matt.” Tom warns quietly.
“That’s it, detention! All three of you.” She snaps. 
“I didn’t say anything! I was trying to shut him up!” Tom snaps annoyed.
“Mr. Riddle, would you like to make that two days of detention?” She asks.
Tom clenches his jaw, glowering at her as he chooses silence. His gaze slips over to Mattheo who smiles lazily at him. You were already working on your assignment from her. You pause, feeling a presence near you as a shadow casts over your parchment. 
“I’m surprised you’ve got nothing to say Ms. Riddle.” She says. 
You slowly look up, looking at her blankly. She smiles as if she were delighted that you had no reaction, nor no words. She reaches out, grabs your wrist and looks at the scars on your hand from her punishment. 
“If only you Riddle’s could learn to behave.” She tsks.
“She hasn’t even said anything!” Draco defends.
“Malfoy, would you also like to join the Riddle’s in detention?” She asks and he stays silent.
Everyone shifted uncomfortably as the air shifted. You pull your wrist free from her, immediately wringing your hands together as Mattheo puts a hand on your shoulder.
“You need to calm down. Everyone is feeling your magic.” He mutters. 
That didn’t help your case. In fact, it made you feel more anxious, so you stood and packed up your stuff before leaving the classroom quickly. You knew you were going to be in loads of trouble because of your father, but it didn’t quite matter to you. 
“Skipping Umbridge’s class, too?” Theodore asks, standing at the top of the Astronomy Tower, smoking.   
“My magic started to get the best of me. It made the room get that uncomfortable feel and I couldn’t control it, so I left. And I got detention for Mattheo’s smart mouth.” You mumble, standing next to him.
“Sounds like Mattheo, but Umbridge also holds a grudge against you and your brothers simply for who your father is.” He says. 
“I know, but it’s exhausting. We share one last name, and suddenly I’m hated and feared. I may share the same views, but I don’t agree with the way things have been handled.” You sigh.
You relax as he throws his arm over your shoulder. You allow yourself to lean into his warmth more, the chilly air beginning to affect you. 
You always found yourself comfortable in Theodore’s presence. Yes, he was the dark, gloomy, brooding bad boy everyone warns you away from, but you found solace in his presence. Unbeknownst to you, you were the sunshine in Theodore’s life. Anytime you walked in a room, those gloomy looming clouds parted and allowed him to bask in your light. 
Theodore was quiet, understanding, methodical, logical, and calm. His presence soothed you more than you’d like to admit. You were quiet, but one wrong word being said could set your fiery tongue ablaze. No one could ever reign you back, no one, but Theodore Nott. The moment he’d whisper in your ear or rest a hand on the small of your back always sent you quiet. It was like a wave of tranquility washing over you. 
“Y/n! What were you thinking? Now you're going to be kept longer.” Mattheo hissed as he stormed into the room with your friends and Tom not far behind.
“I needed to leave. My magic was making you all uncomfortable and it didn’t help with you telling me to calm down. I knew I needed to calm down, I don’t need you adding to that stress.” You say, pulling free from Theodore’s comfortable hold as you step towards your seething brother.
“We don’t have the time for this nonsense! Father has given us our respected duties.” He snaps, pointing a finger at you.
“Nonsense? Are you trying to twist the blame on me once more? We are in this mess because you’ve got no self-control! And father can take those duties and shove them up his ass!” You exclaim, the room buzzing with your magic.
Mattheo feels a shock in the air between the two of you, causing him to take several steps back. You were the only one to develop magic like this which happened to be otherworldly. It was known to be chaos magic, something that didn’t have much research behind it. 
“You can’t say things like that! He’ll find out!” He snaps.
“Let him. I’m tired of us hiding behind him like cowards!” You snap.
Your eyes flickered to a glowing green, something they hadn’t ever done before as you began to levitate slightly—another thing you hadn’t ever done.
Your father loved and hated your magic. He loved that it was his child who possessed such rare and unique abilities. But, he hated it because it meant you were stronger than him. So, anytime your magic began to go haywire because of your emotions, he’d be quick to lock you away so you could reign it in. You’ve never gotten a chance to experiment with your powers to see what you were capable of. 
“Y/n/n, you need to calm down.” Mattheo warns, putting his hands up in surrender.
Your heart aches seeing the fear in his eyes. You see his hand inching to his wand and your lip trembles, tilting your head slightly as your eyes well with tears. You glance around the room to see your friends inching behind your brothers, fear on their faces. Tom steps up next to Mattheo, nudging him behind him as he shakily points his wand at you. 
“Expelliarmus!” Theodore shouts, standing in front of you. 
He catches Tom’s wand, glaring at the group. 
“She is your bloody sister! Our friends! She wouldn’t hurt you even if she wanted to! Can’t you see you both are hurting her! In fact, all of you are.” He snaps. 
Your feet touch the ground as your eyes flicker back to normal. Theodore turns to you. He steps forward, but you step back as you slowly shake your head. 
“P-Please don’t…I d-don’t want to hurt you.” You whisper.
“You won’t hurt me, love. Come here.” He murmurs.
You don’t move as he slowly steps towards you like you were a timid doe. His arms wrap around you, his hand cradling your head as he inhales deeply as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. Your arms slowly wind around his waist, your hands shaking. 
“I-I didn’t mean to.” You whisper.
“Darling, you didn’t do nothin’ wrong. You’ve never gotten the chance to know your magic and we know that. It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.” He murmurs. 
You were quiet, your shaky hands fisting the back of his shirt. He kisses your clothed shoulder, ignorant to your brothers’ anger towards him touching you. But, they knew that you were upset with them now. It was Theodore out of your friends and brothers who defended you. 
You slowly pull away, stepping back. 
“I wanna leave, Teddy.” You whisper.
“Come on, love.” He murmurs, gently grabbing your hand as he shields you from your brothers and friends as he guides you elsewhere.
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“Where is she, Nott? She is our bloody sister.” Tom seethes.
“You guys really don’t see what you guys did to her, do you?” He asks, laughing sarcastically as your friend group quiets, 
“What?” Mattheo asks, rolling his eyes.
“Yes, she is a Riddle. But, she is by far the most empathetic, caring, and loving one of you all. She hides it well, yes, and when you all acted as if she were some…monster, you hurt her. You broke one of the most compassionate, loving, and caring hearts you could break. She loves each and every one of you deeply. You all are her family, yet you all had to be fools. She doesn’t know what she is capable of. She feels as if it’s a curse. I think it makes her unique and that she could do some amazing things if she were allowed to test her powers out. You all owe her an apology. Even then, I don’t think it’ll be enough. She is so scared of hurting somebody. Dumbledore is now aware of her magic as she has locked herself away in her room and won’t come out. He’s been trying to help her understand it while getting her work for her classes.” Theodore explains, his cheeks flushed red with anger.
It was silent amongst the friends and her brothers. He stood there a moment before leaving to let them let that settle. Maybe they’ll feel guilty, or maybe they’ll feel nothing. But, it deserved to be said. 
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“Y/n/n?” Theodore asks, surprised.
“I decided hiding away wasn’t doing me any good. It just allowed me more time to overthink. I’m going to try going to all my classes today.” You say softly.
You were sitting on the windows ledge, kicking your feet back and forth. It did make Theodore’s heart rate pick up, because one wrong move, you’d be plummeting to the ground. 
“I’ll be fine, Teddy.” You say softly.
“Huh?” He asks.
“I learned I can read minds and memories with my magic.” You say.
He smiles, happy to see you growing more comfortable with your abilities now that it’s no secret with the Headmaster who was more than happy to help you learn what abilities you possessed and what you could do. 
You climb off the ledge, walking to Theodore before the two of you made it your guys’ first class. You take a seat, ignoring Umbridge’s prying eyes. 
“Nice of you to join us, Ms. Riddle. I honestly hoped you had left Hogwarts.” She said. 
You chose silence, focusing on the board. You had always lived in silence before, so why change that now? It wouldn’t get you anywhere. Simply glancing into her mind allowed you to see her next move and you were left unfazed as her hands slammed on your desk as she was in front of you. 
“Answer me, Ms. Riddle. Haven’t you heard it’s impolite to ignore your professors?” She asks.
“Sorry, Professor Umbridge, I’m unsure of what I am answering.” You say.
“Where have you been?” She asks.
“Ill.” You reply shortly.
“You would’ve been fine within a few days. It’s been six weeks.” She snaps.
“If you’d like, you can owl Headmaster Dumbledore. He was a great help as he helped me recover.” You answer.
The doors open and in walk your brothers, but your gaze never leaves Umbridge’s. She scoffs, looking offended and you question what you had done.
“That’s it. Write lines. Write, “I will not give attitude.”” She snaps, throwing the quill a pad of paper on your desk. 
You stare at it, not wanting to write lines. You don’t want the nasty scars it leaves behind. You faintly heard her scolding you and demanding you write lines. 
“What exactly is she writing lines for, Professor, if you don’t mind me asking?” Mattheo asks, trying his hardest to sound polite. 
“Literally nothing.” Theodore mutters from behind you.
“What was that, Mr. Nott?” Umbridge asks. 
“Professor, may I go to the matron? I feel unwell.” You murmur.
“Write your lines first.” She snaps.
You reach a hand out for the quill, trying to suppress the shakiness as you grab it. You take a breath in before letting it out as you begin to write, allowing your magic to inflict it upon her instead of you. 
She gasps, lifting her hand to see the words your writing appear on her hand. She storms over to you, snatching the quill. You roll your eyes up to hers, feigning confusion. 
“What did you do? You insolent brat!” She shouts, shaking her hand to wave out the pain which did nothing.
“Nothing, ma’am. What happened?” You ask. 
The class gets up, you not realizing how much time had passed as they left. Your friends and brothers stayed seated. 
“Leave! Besides you Ms. Riddle.” She seethes. 
“Nope.” Mattheo says, popping the p.
“Crucio!” She shouts. 
You gasp as Tom pushes Mattheo out of the way, taking the hit. He falls to the ground, his jaw clenched. You fall to your knees beside him, your eyes watery. 
“T-Tom? Hold on.” You whisper.
You cry out, fall to your side as her next spell hit you. Sectumsempra. 
“What the hell are you doing!?” Draco shouts.
Your eyes turn green as a wave of green leaves you. You close your eyes, squeezing them shut as you fight for control. 
“Guys! It’s going to be okay. Pansy and Enz ran to get Professor Snape. Blaise and Draco ran for Headmaster Dumbledore. Just…just hold on, please.” Mattheo pleads, take one of your hands, and one of Tom’s.
His eyes were watering, seeing his older brother by minutes and baby sister by minutes in so much pain.
“Tom, you idiot. Why’d you do that? And Y/n/n…I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you. I never meant to do that. I love you so much and I couldn’t have asked for anyone else as a sister. I love you so much.” He says. 
You feel a wave of tiredness wash over you as you continue to lose more blood. Your eyes flutter open, only to close again as you pass out. Tom was trying to sit up, only to be pushed down by Mattheo.
“Stay still.” He scolds.
“Y/n/n…check.” He grits out.
Mattheo turns to you, realizing your hand had gone limp in his. He shakes you urgently as fears of you dying filled his head. You let a little whimper of pain out which allowed him to feel calmer and to stop shaking you. 
“Alright, move away so that we can help them.” Dumbledore says, hurrying in. 
“I c-can’t leave them. They need me.” Mattheo says.
“We got him.” Theodore says quietly.
“Go.” Tom grits out. 
“No! I’m not leaving you both!” He snaps.
Theodore, Blaise, and Enzo somehow managed to drag him out, Pansy and Draco following after in case they needed back-up in getting Mattheo back to the Common Room. 
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“You both are weak.” Voldemort says. 
After your “mother”, Bellatrix, received a letter of what happened, a meeting was summoned. Your friends stared down at the table, along with their parents as they felt they were intruding. Tom and you were to stand, looking at him.
“Father, it was my fault.” You say, ignoring Tom’s sharp glare at you.
“Thomas!” Your father warns, in which Tom focuses his eyes back on his father with a clenched jaw.
“Father, please. It was me. She was angry with me and the boys simply stepped in to protect me. It was my fault. Please do not punish Tom or Mattheo. This is all my fault. I deserve to be punished.” You say. 
“Mattheo is the only one whose name didn’t pop up in the letter. He is excused from this. But, Tom and you are not.” He says. 
He points his wand, speaking, “Crucio!”. Your hands flew out, a green ward appearing around Tom as the spell bounced off of it. You used your other hand to hit the spell that now headed towards your father. 
“You dare defy me?” He asks lowly, standing slowly as his eyes seem to turn redder. 
“I said he had no part in this, but you choose to ignore what I had to say!” You snap, your own eyes turning green in anger. 
He falters, his eyes changing to ones of surprise before he raises his wand.
“I would feel terrible about having to kill my own child, but it’s evident you’ve been experimenting with your powers. If you continue to stand up to me and be a threat to me, I’ll have no other option than to kill you.” He speaks. 
“Don’t lie, father. You’d feel absolutely nothing. But, what if I did this? I reverse all your work?” You ask. 
“Don’t you dare!” He shouts. 
You clench your jaw as you flay your arms out as green lights up the room. You watch your father drop his wand as you levitate him. You continue to search his mind for all the objects that were horcruxes before your magic reached out to retrieve it and piece his soul back together. He yells and curses at you, but you aren’t affected. 
The green light disperses as you lower your father who had a sharp jawline, blue eyes that matched Tom and yours. He was tall and lanky, but you could tell it only meant he was toned. His brown hair was carefully styled. He looks at his hands before turning to a mirror and staring at himself. He spins back towards you, storming towards you.
“What the hell did you do to me!” He shouts. 
“You are no longer immortal. You are mortal. I could…however…make you immortal in a different way. But, I’m questioning if you even deserve that respect, father. You’ve treated your children like shit since they could walk. You’ve tortured us. You don’t care, nor love us. You are as much of a monster and a coward as some of the muggle’s I hear about with their children.” You seethe, walking towards him as he slowly backs up. 
“I do love you three! And I care about you! You wouldn’t know a damn thing because you're so naive!” He shouts.
You decide to peek into his mind. You become humbled as some twisted part of him has loved and cared for you…but this new him allows him to express it normally and you can tell he is confused with the feelings. He’s scared. 
“I’m not naive…you’ve done well hiding your true feelings towards us our entire life. Horcrux and disembodied you allowed you to experience love and care, yet those were warped. You had a very screwed up way of showing it. But, this way will allow us to see how you truly feel towards us.” You say, motioning to him. 
“I want to be immortal, Y/n. I have plans I must go through with.” He says. 
You turn, taking a seat and resting your chin on your hand as you look back at him.
“I’d be more than happy to make you immortal again. A spell I made and might I add that it works perfectly, no risks. But, I have one little thing I don’t want to happen. You’ve cowered behind your followers for far too long, father. A true leader leads the war. Not to mention, you have children involved. You’re willing to go to war with innocent children who may lose their lives. They’ve only ever heard what their parents said and they are far too young to even begin to think of what they truly believe. This against you adults. It doesn’t involve us. Nor, the children attending Hogwarts.” You say. 
“You kids are far more talented and excelled.” He says.
“Father…I don’t see the point of this war. You’re a half-blood…which makes Tom, Mattheo and I half-bloods as well. You’re deeming it your right to lead a war for a pure-blood world, but what about us? How does it make it fair?” You ask. 
“Because we aren’t like the other half-bloods and mud-bloods. We are far more powerful than them…smarter than them, stronger than them. Look at you for example. You possess abilities that no one else can. You possess magic that is otherworldly. Tom is much like me who can use wandless magic and see into the minds of even our most challenging opponents. Mattheo, he is much like your guy’s mother—the magical way—as she possessed ancient magic and as does Mattheo. Mattheo and Tom remind me of myself when I was younger just from the way they act. But, you…you remind me so much of your mother.” He says, managing a small smile at me. 
You were unsure what to say, thrown off by what a mood change he just had. You also found yourself wanting to ask him questions of your mother whom you’ve never gotten the chance to meet as she died in childbirth. 
“Meeting will be prolonged for now. You may go to the living room for now. I want a moment with my children.” Your father says. 
People soon filed out of the room, Enzo being the one to close the doors with hesitancy. You shoot a smile his way and nod, seeing that he looked much more relieved to close the doors. Mattheo was still sitting where he had been, but Tom took a seat across from you. 
“What was she like…our mom?” You ask.
“Your mother was…beautiful…you much look like her aside from the eyes. Mattheo got her eyes. Tom, you have her nose and lips. But, most importantly…you all share her big heart and her logical mind. She too didn’t see my views on why I wanted to go to war. She despised it unless I could truly find the reason behind it. There never was a reason besides I wanted a pureblood world. But, her and I…I never knew what love was until your mother. I believed I was incapable of loving or feeling in general until your mother walked up to me with one of her perfect, soft smiles. She was bold, fearless, and so smart. That was the side everyone got to see. But, as she and I grew closer…I got to see how big her heart was for her friends and family, just like yours Y/n/n…and to see how much she cared.” He says, his eyes faraway as he thought of your mother. 
“How were you both after graduating?” You ask.
“We were perfect. We spent the next two or three decades madly in love when I had decided to move forth with my plans. By then, my old friend Abraxas had a little boy, Lucius. I watched my friends have children, but my friends died. It was their children I began to seek forth on the war. As they began to choose to have children, I realized how quiet your mother had gotten. She always watched. I asked about it one day naturally only to learn that she too wanted children. So, we began to try, which didn’t take long till she found out she was pregnant with you three. I would do anything to go back to the day to see that smile.” He says, smiling sadly. 
“If you don’t mind…I could reflect on your memory so we could all see.” You say and he nods. 
Naturally, he had been thinking about the day, so when you tapped his temple, it didn’t take long to find it. Soon, the four of you were quietly staring at your mother. It was a little snippet, her smile that was indeed much like yours, her brown eyes lighted with so much joy and love as she held a pregnancy stick up. 
“I was unaware that your mother had a bleeding disorder. The pregnancy went well and when her water broke, we were ecstatic. I’ll admit I was rather nervous, but she couldn’t wait to get out the door and to the hospital to have you. She was so excited. They did the c-section, she got to hold the three of you. She cried as she said how beautiful you three were. She said you were going to be triple the trouble. She whispered how much she loved you and that one day she’d see you again. I was confused, but she managed to kiss each of your heads before the nurses were taking you away with solemn looks. She knew she was going to die. The entire pregnancy, she knew. She knew she’d die or live. She agreed to one horcrux—me, to live immortally. The other half of her joined me that night when she didn’t make it out of the room.” He says, swallowing hard.
“That’s who I felt when I pieced your soul back together.” You whisper.
“You felt her? I feel her sometimes…used to I could talk to her and she’d speak back. She’s grown silent though and I feared that she was gone.” He admits. 
“She’s there, her soul is growing weaker though. She wasn’t meant to live through you, but her own vessel…I…” You say, trailing off. 
“What?” He asks.
“She has a spell to resurrect the dead as well. She is the child who has dabbled in muggle magic that never went anywhere, but she takes it somewhere. She made the three of us immortal with her immortal spell, feelings intact. She did give us each a way to die if we ever got tired of being immortal. If we decided we wanted to move forth and meet in another life.” Tom explains.
“Your mother use to make spells too…she spent the years we were in Hogwarts and up until you three were born trying to create a spell on immortality. She hated that I had gone through with horcruxes and was sure she’d be able to reverse it and give us a safer option for immortality…yet here you are and you did it sooner than your mother had been able to. You remind me so much of your mother.” He says, looking at you. 
It was silent as you all looked at the memory of your mother who was so joyous finding out she was pregnant. You find yourself thinking she is the most beautiful woman you have ever seen.
“I have a question.” Your father says.
“What's up?” Mattheo asks, trying to find a way to be less awkward around your guys’ father. 
“Why does Theodore look at Y/n all the time?” He asks.
You look up confused, your brothers sharing an uncomfortable look as they looked almost defeated. Tom sighs and motions Mattheo on. Mattheo sighs.
“I didn’t tell you, Y/n/n, you just found out, okay? Theodore…he has had a crush or in your words, fancied Y/n/n since first year. He’s always been a bit scared to tell her as he would rather have her as a friend than not have her at all.” Mattheo explains.
You tilt your head in curiosity as you wonder why that never stood out to you. You had always fancied him, but you never assumed he’d feel anything back. 
“I don’t quite know how to explain what it is I’m feeling…like…I love Y/n/n…I want to see her happy, but I don’t know how I feel about a boy fancying her.” Your father says.
“It's when you feel protective over someone. I’m sure you felt it often with mom.” Mattheo explains.
“I did…I was always embarrassed to ask her about the different feelings I would experience.” He admits. 
“I’ll need her bones, some ingredients, but most importantly, I’ll be needing to carefully retract her soul from you dad…this part could hurt.” You say, turning to your father.
“That’s okay.” He admits. 
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“Is this it, my lord?” Lucius.
You, as much as you hated it, had a crowd who was rather intrigued by your magic and ability to create spells. You were slightly disturbed with your mothers remains being in the same room as you, but you knew it was necessary. 
“Yes.” He murmurs, walking further into the room and sitting in the chair across from your mothers casket. 
You place the metal bowl between the two as you start to add the ingredients in, you pause turning to your father as you strap him to the chair. He grimaces, realizing he may have misinterpreted how bad this would hurt, but he couldn’t complain. He wanted nothing more than the woman he loved back. 
You raise your hands, having to clench your jaw of your fathers strangled groans and pained grunts as you pull your mothers soul free of him. You lowered it to the bowl, taking a match and lighting the bowl. 
A wave of light fills the room, and you walk to the casket to see your mother there in the flesh and blood. You hear Tom helping your father free of restraints as you hold a hand out for your mother.
“Y/n/n?” She murmurs.
“Y-You recognize me?” You whisper as she fully stands.
“How could I not? You’ve turned out to be such a beautiful young woman…oh Mattheo…Tom, my boys. You three come here.” She whispers. 
The embrace of your mother was something you realized you hadn’t needed so much. Her love, care, and warmth was what filled those missing parts in you—all, but one, but that was Theodore’s spot. 
“You’re so pretty.” You murmur.
“Oh, love. Thank you, but it is you who is the prettiest girl to be seen.” She murmurs. 
She holds you three tight for minutes, before leaving a long kiss on each of your heads before hesitantly letting you go. She looks at your guys’ father with watery eyes. 
“I can’t say I haven’t missed you because I have. But, I still don’t agree with your views and how you’ve treated our children. But, when Y/n/n looked into your mind and pointed out that you had always loved and cared for them, it was just warped…I understood. But, I do believe the horcruxes played an effect. If the kids are okay with it, I’d love for all of us to start a clean slate.” She says. 
Your father nods, his own eyes watery. You turn to look at your brothers to see them looking at you as your parents turn to you three. Mattheo does a little nod, and you turn to Tom. You could see his hesitance, but once he sees your encouraging smile, he does a little nod himself. You turn to your parents, nodding at them. They pull the three of you in a hug.
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“What are you doing all alone out here, Teddy?” You ask, wearing a silvery dress that glitters. 
Your makeup and jewelry was dark and green per-usual. He was in a tux, his tie terribly tied as he didn’t know how to. He had a cigarette in his mouth as he takes you in. 
“Everyone is dancing and doing sappy stuff. Your brothers even had dates.” He says quietly. 
You step forward, lifting your hands as you fix his tie. You look into his soft, yet intense eyes and smile.
“Teddy, would you like to dance with me?” You ask.
“R-Really?” He asks surprised.
“I only ask guys I like to dance, Teddy, so…would you?” You ask, holding your hand out to him.
“You like me?” He asks, taking your hand.
“More than you know, Teddy.” You say, smiling softly at him before you were gently dragging him to the dance floor.
A slow song comes on as you both start to sway. You requested this and then a waltz song next before letting the music officiant go back to their list. You saw your father and mother happily dancing as they whispered lovingly to each other. Mattheo was dancing with Astoria as Tom danced with a girl who was a year below you all. You periodically saw your friends amongst the dancing couples as they too danced. 
“Love?” Theodore murmurs.
“Hm?” You hum, your eyes clashing with his.
“You like me in a more than friend way…right?” He asks, his eyes flickering over your shoulder out of nerves.
“That was what I meant, silly. Do you like me in a more than friend way?” You ask.
“Yes! I have for a long time…since first year, but I was just…I was so scared I’d lose you because you didn’t feel that way. I was everywhere…protecting you, and keeping guys away. You infiltrated my mind every waking moment of mine…you are my mania.” He says.
“Oh Teddy, I’ve liked you since first year too. I wish I would’ve said something sooner, but all is okay. We’ve told each other now.” You say, smiling softly.
“Since you were so bold earlier, let me return that…would you be my girlfriend?” He asks.
“Nothing would make me happier, Teddy.” You murmur, leaning up as he leans down to kiss you softly.
“Hey!” Tom, Mattheo and your father shout. 
You both pull apart with soft laughter as you both look over to see them giving you both stern looks, your brothers’ dates trying to get them to leave you alone as your mother reigns your father in. You turn back to Theodore, a soft smile on your face.
“I love you, Teddy.” You murmur.
“I love you too, Y/n/n.” He whispers as the music shifts to waltz music and he groans as you grin mischievously.
It was then that he knew this was your doing, but he smiled goofily as he wouldn’t have this any other way.
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vax-merstappen · 13 hours
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press delete pt.2 (cl16)
summary: even though he’s dating a new girl, charles still keeps the pictures of you on his phone.
warnings: breakup, general angst
hope you all enjoy this highly requested part 2! i actually liked writing this one more than the original lol
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Charles had spent all day with the supermodel he had been seeing ever since your breakup. She was good company and had known Charles when he was a kid. He got along fine with her, but they were just friends. Someone he could talk to, even if they would never dance in the rain together or stay up late at night drunk on his balcony.
Just someone to fill the void.
After he had dropped her off back at her place, Charles had driven home himself. He had taken a shower before collapsing on his couch. As soon as he opened his phone, he saw that pictures of them together were already on social media. He wondered whether you had seen. Whether you had cared.
He opened his camera roll, looking back at all the pictures he couldn't bear to delete.
--
It was the first time he had invited you to come watch him race, his personal guest in the Ferrari hospitality. You had shown up wearing a T-shirt with his name and number on it, a red Ferrari cap on your head. He remembered how just seeing you in his team gear had made his heart flutter.
You had run over to him in the paddock, pulling him into an embrace. The cameras were flashing, but he knew you didn't care. Charles hugged you back, whispering in your ear how glad he had been to see you. He vowed then and there that he never wanted to let you go.
He gave you a tour of the paddock, showing you the places he knew the cameras wouldn't follow and the best places to grab food before the race. He had spent so much time in various tracks like this that he knew it like the back of his hand. He only hoped you would one day feel the same, having come to many more races of his.
When it was time to head on track, he had given you one last embrace. And before he went, he asked if he could take a picture with you. Him in his race suit, you in Ferrari gear. You happily obliged and he took his favorite picture of the day, just the two of you in his garage.
He would look back at that picture whenever you couldn't make it to a race, remembering that you were cheering him on from home. Even though he hadn't won that day, getting to spend it with you had been its own sort of victory.
As he looked at the photo now, all he felt was regret. Regret that maybe you didn't understand how much you had meant to him and how much better he felt with you around.
He couldn't make himself delete the picture and so he scrolled on.
--
A few minutes later, he found another picture that brought back memories. He chuckled to himself, remembering that day.
It had been Christmas time. You both had spent Christmas Eve with Charles family, as they celebrated the holiday. On the actual holiday, you had asked him to spend a cozy day in instead of celebrating in an extravagant way. He had agreed, wanting nothing more than to spend the day by your side.
But he had to still get you a present, no matter how many times you had insisted the only gift you wanted was to spend time with him, away from everything. He had searched endlessly for the perfect present for you, finally settling on something he knew you would appreciate. It was tickets to see a band you both listened to in concert. One of the first things you bonded over as a couple was your love for their music. It was perfect and he was so excited to see the look on your face when you opened the tickets.
Christmas had rolled around and as promised, he spent the morning cuddling with you in bed. Around lunch time, he had got up to make the two of you a brunch. His cooking skills were lackluster to say the least, so you had joined him the kitchen a few minutes later. He could still remember how you looked in the soft morning light and how you sounded when you laughed at how poorly he had chopped the ingredients of your favorite dish.
About halfway through the meal, he had handed you the envelope with the tickets. He had tried to hide how excited he was, but he knew you could read his emotions like a book. You opened the simple card he had bought and your eyes had widened when you saw the tickets.
But instead of getting all excited as he imagined, you burst into laughter. He felt his face getting red and he started to panic. Had he messed up? What was so funny?
"Mon amour," you had said, finally pausing in your laughter. "Go look under the Christmas tree."
Not knowing what else to do, he had stood up from the table and walked over to the tree. There was a small box underneath. He grabbed it and walked back over to you with a look of confusion. You nodded and he opened it.
Inside were two tickets to the same concert.
"You bought the same thing?" he had asked incredulously.
"Yes. I thought you would love it."
"Well I love it so much that I bought you the same thing," he laughed, now understanding what was so funny.
He had taken a picture of the two of you together each holding the tickets the other had bought. Your smiling faces stared back at him now from his phone. You had known each other so well. How had a relationship so deep crumbled?
He couldn't bear to let go of the memory. He scrolled to the next photo, stopping himself from pressing delete.
--
He had finally reached the last photo from your relationship. It was you, standing on his boat. One of his oversize shirts was on your shoulders. He always thought they looked better on you. With the image, the circumstances under which he took them came back to him. That he would delete it when you two got back together.
He thought back to that fateful day.
You had gone out together on his yacht. He had hoped it would be a lighthearted and relaxing break from the stress that had been plaguing your relationship. He saw you standing close to the edge of the boat and he had remembered a time where you had pushed him into the water, jumping in after him yourself. He walked over with the intention of recreating the fun moment.
But the second he pushed you, he knew he had misjudged the circumstances. You had shouted at him.
"Mon amour, it was just a joke Don't take it all so serious. We are here to have a good time, no?" he said, trying to smooth over the situation and bring some brightness back into the day.
"Not if you are going to throw me in the ocean."
He had sighed, wishing you could just appreciate the day with him. You two had descended into an argument afterwards. He didn't remember what he had said, only that he had wanted to make you see that he wasn't always the villain. Sure, he had neglected you in the past in favor of his career. But he was here now, wasn't he, trying to make it all better?
The rest of the argument was a blur in his head. Up until the point you had uttered the words that finally broke him.
"I don't think this is going to work anymore."
He had tried so hard for you. But his best wasn't good enough and he could see that now. Somewhere along the line you both had lost your understanding of the other person. Your relationship had become built on memories of the past and differing ideas of the future.
He had blinked back tears behind his sunglasses. He didn't want you to know how bad you had hurt him. Charles knew he had his fair share of blame for how things had turned out. He didn't want to cry in front of you now. He could hold it in until he got home, as much for your sake as his own.
The words he said next were crystal clear in his mind.
"Okay. We can take a break. But let me get one last picture of you to remember you by. And when we get back together, I will delete it off my phone so we don't have to remember this day? Ok, ma cherie?"
Charles had taken the picture that stared back at him now. Even now, he could tell how unhappy you were in the picture. It was clearly a fake smile that you had given him.
But even though the picture and the memory of how it all fell apart had pained him, he couldn't bear to delete the picture off his phone. The hope and the promise that he could still end up with you were too much to throw away.
Instead, he clicked onto your name in his messages. He selected the picture of you on that boat. His finger hovered over the send button. He had a choice to make.
But surely if you had wanted to see him again, you would have said something. You were probably happy now without him. He didn't want to ruin your peace. So he clicked out of your messages and into hers.
He sent another text back to the model, asking if she wanted to see him again next weekend. If you had wanted him out of your life, he owed it to you to make that happen. Even if he couldn't make himself delete your memories from his phone.
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diejager · 2 days
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Okay so imagine this RBF Horangi is sneaky when it comes to his friends step daughter he watches your expressions whenever him and Konig decide to fuck you; you always grimace at Konig’s display of affection whenever he deludes himself into the fantasy of your shared love and yet you always seem to somewhat relax around him. On the day that Horangi made you squirt he realized he had opened a Pandora’s box (literally) so he decides to play a lil trick on none other than Konig. As they see your mother off they immediately jump your bones and right when the opportunity arises he spikes Konig’s drink which knocks him out and Horangi decides to whisk you away from your big bad papa Konig but being sure to leave him a lil note telling him that you were always meant to be with Horangi
Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, STEPCEST, non-con drugging, kidnapping, squirting, possessive behaviour, tell me if I missed any.
He began to see a difference in his relationship with you and the one you had with König. There was a distinct discomfort you portrayed on your face whenever he touched you, his hand lingering on your shoulder and lower back while you waved your mom off on her month long business travel. König was too delusional to see the wince that pulled your lips thin and teary eyes staring down, adamant to not look at either men, but you didn’t react as strongly to Horangi. A small grimace or a few stray tears, but you weren’t as tense or withdrawn by his side, more relaxed under his touch and more opened to his affection. 
He figured it was because he made the decision not to marry your mother, staying as the father’s best friend figure that always came by to drink and laze around with your stepdad. This decisive act was a game changer in his mind, the best decision he could’ve ever done compared to König. Granted, his giant friend was the first to see you, branding you as his object of obsession before Horangi was introduced to the family. He hadn’t been bothered with he idea of sharing you, he never was, especially with someone as trustworthy as König, yet he kept seeing this common trend with you: your hesitation, your reclusivenes, and your little frowns. 
It called to him like an abandoned kit would, a poor and neglected kitten that was ripe for the picking and pitifully adorable, mewling and stumbling for affection and care. It simply made sense if he was the only one to care for you, no? When he was the first to make you squirt, tasting your bitter slick at the back of his throat, tongue licking it from his scarred lips and cheek, sucking his fingers clean and licking your cunt of all your cum. It was all he could think of, the taste of you on his tongue, the feel of you around his fingers and the pretty sounds in his ears.
You called to him, your every thought, your ever cell, your very being called him to possess you, making you his alone. All he had to do was act upon his invasive thoughts. He spiked König’s drink when he wasn’t looking, sharing their usual drink in the evening while they let you rest from the last rough fucking, they rambled and watched the Tv, jumping from one random subject to another without so much as a slip of his tongue about his plan. He knew his betrayal would sting both of them, to have your trusted friend stab you in the back and to throw away a long and precious relationship would hurt them, but Horangi had to have you. 
And when König’s head bobbed with sleep, ultimately slumped forward, his beer still in his grasp, Horangi slipped out of the couch, up the stairs and into your room. He stood at the door and admired your naked and bruised skin, purple welts swollen and cunt still wet and crusty with their loads. He dressed you carefully, aware that any fought and quick movement would wake you, scare you from following him and wake König with that sweet voice of yours. He left with nothing but a few bags and identifications, anything from clothes to jewellery and appliances were useless to him, he could buy them anew and give you better versions of them. 
Whatever you wanted was yours, all you had to do was to follow him and marry him. He wasn’t delusional, he knew you were meant to be him, it was written in the stars as much as your being belonged to him to love and provide.
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ultralightpoe · 22 hours
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Rubies Hidden With Blood -Aemond Targaryen
Authors Note: Hello, thank you for the patience while I am on a writing break. I’m still trying to figure out life and how to fix it, but I channeled some of the pain and anger into this and I hope you like it . I hope you are all staying safe and healthy out there in the world - Ultralightpoe
Warnings: mentions of executions, adultery, foul language
Word Count: 4996
MAIN Master List
Description: Inspired by Anne Boleyn and Elizabeth. (INSPIRED. You are not either of them you’re a character inspired by them)
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(Thank you for the gif @onemillionyous )
x Enjoy! x
To Anne Boleyn, who spent the last month of her life preparing for the rest of her daughters life to the best of her ability. Every stitch and warning given was noticed.
And to Elizabeth, who spent the rest of her life hiding footprints for her mother in a home that had tried to strip her memory.
To the bond of the two, never truly understood.
-
You stood, stiff and freezing in the cold weather, on the very steps your mother walked up the day she was executed. A message you were very sure your father intended, one that you would not cave into. 
Verlain, your fathers hand, stood to your right with a grim expression as he did his best to stop looking to the stained spot at the top of the steps. Where her blood had leaked down, seeping into the stone in a mark that would be there forever. It would be centuries before her death would be forgotten, a fact that sent a wave of nausea through you, gripping you in its fierce hold as you tried to inhale some fresh air. Fighting to keep the tears welling in your eyes at bay as the corset constricts against your ribs. 
Breathe. Keep your wits about you. 
“Are you feeling alright, your highness?” Verlain asks, eyebrows pinching together as he watches your hand slide across the front of your dress, as if you could ease the ache in your ribs and lungs from rubbing it. His tone slips at the last two words and you have to bite back the bitter laugh, not willing to risk your breath on it. 
A moon ago you had been nothing more than a bastard to this court, upon his orders. Anyone within earshot of his majesty knew that the forsaken daughter of the castle whore would be painted a bastard the rest of her life. 
The second her body had been carted off he had your handmaiden pack you up, sending you both to an estate far off, so that he would never have to look upon your face again. 
“You haunt me! You plain cunt! You HAUNT ME!” He had yelled the day you begged, the day you crawled to your knees begging him to keep you. Of course you haunted him, you had her face. And whether he had to look upon you or not you were sure she haunted his every move. 
She surely hadn’t visited you since she passed. There were no ghosts in the offwood estate. This castle, however, had more than you could dare keep track of. 
But you hadn’t seen her. Whether you should be thankful for that had yet to be seen. 
“Princess?” Verlain asks again, taking a step up, getting closer as he extends a hand to you. “Prin-“ 
“Don’t call me that.” You sneer, slapping his hand away from you and readjusting the veil that covered your face. Even with your back turned to the spit you could still see her blood on the stone, gulping quickly. Don’t look. Don’t. Look. 
But Verlains eyes cast behind you to the stain, his neck showing an audible gulp before he guiltily looks back to you. “Princess, I never got to speak with you after-“ 
“I’m not your princess.” Your tone was cold, and you made a show of shooing him away. “And you should mind yourself, Lord Verlain. If his majesty catches you this close he might think ill of the intent.”
Verlains face pales, the man stepping back so quickly he nearly slips on the steps before turning back to the courtyard below, fixing his embellished attire. 
You missed being a bastard. A bastard would never be sold off like this. 
There was a war brewing, and many of the kingdoms were beginning to panic for alliances, this kingdom included. And there was one ally that everyone wanted, the seven kingdoms. Westeros. For there was truly no war that could be won against them. 
You’d never seen a dragon, and if this was any under circumstance you would be excited. But this was your very own death march. Or as your mothers own prophet had claimed “you’ll earn your mothers reckoning.” 
There was an ax somewhere out there with your name on it….. or maybe the jaw of a dragon ready to chew you up. 
Before you could much more on it a firm grip snatches the back of your neck, pulling a gasp from you as it pulls you to them aggressively, the smell of wine filling your senses. “You step a foot out of line today and I’ll have your head just like I had your fucking mothers. You hear me, bastard? I’ll spike in on a fucking post.” 
You can only nod, afraid that if you give a verbal response you might whine in pain, and you refuse to show him that weakness. He takes your response, letting go before moving to speak with Verlain as your older sister and little brother stand off to the side. 
The best way to secure an alliance was through marriage. Your older sister couldn’t be married off since she was already married to a lord, and your younger brother was the heir to the kingdom, not to mention the Targaryens didn’t have many girls to marry off. 
But they had Aemond Targaryen, the rumored demon of Westeros, with one eye and the largest dragon. 
So you were renamed a princess, one that would be able to marry a prince. 
Princess of whores being married to a prince of monsters. If your mother could see you now. 
Bile rises up your throat as the memory of her face flashes through your mind, your eyes once again welling with tears. Stop thinking about her. Stop stop stop stop stop.
The heavy sound of thunder pulls your attention, blinking slowly as you try to peer through the veil to see the storm on its way, only to see clear skies. Confusion fills you as your brother gasps loudly, and then you see them, a hoard of dragons filling the skylines as their wings flap in unison . Not thunder, dragons. 
Nausea fills you once more, and yet your mouth goes dry, fists clenching into the heavy skirts of your dress as you spot the older dragon riding in the back, a blur of long white hair flying with it. 
And you know without a doubt, your future husband has arrived. 
“Listen to me.” She sobs, falling to her knees before you as you cry out, the banging on the door scaring you even more than her tears. “You need to listen to me.” 
“Where is papa?!” You scream, your mothers handmaidens rushing around the room as she pulls your face closer to hers by the back of your neck, pressing your foreheads together. 
“Listen. To. Me.” She seethes, wiping your tears with a swipe of her thumb. “Breathe. Keep your wits about you. I need you to remember that these people are not your kin. They are not yours. They will not protect you.” 
“Mama-“ 
“And your father is not- do. Not. Trust. Your. Father.” 
“Mama please-“ 
“You need to remember to breathe. Breathe. Keep your wits about you. And?” 
“Breathe. Keep your wits about you. And…. Unbowed, unbent, unbroken. They cannot break me.” 
“Good. Good girl.” She sobs, reaching to kiss your forehead, her lips holding there for a long moment as the door to your mothers apartments break open and the guards storm in. 
The handmaidens pull you back quickly, right as your mother shoves something in the top of your dress before they are on her. There is no gentleness in the way they grab her by her hair and drag her out, and there is no gentleness in the grip the handmaidens keep on you as you claw and bite to get to her. 
By the time they are out of sight there is nothing left but her shoe that had fallen as she was dragged out, and what she had hidden in your dress. 
Your mother had been taken. 
Aemond was sick of the wind, a feeling he never thought he would get and yet it has arrived. He was ready to land, get a break from the beast below his thighs and have a meal that hadn’t been dried and shoved into a satchel last week. 
His mothers boat stayed below them, his eldest sister's dragon taking the lead of their travel in the front as his uncle stuck to her right. Aegon, a spoiled brat through and through, was left in Kings Landing to act as King Regent as Rhaenyra traveled with them. 
Helaena and Jacaerys keeping him in check. 
But his brother had gotten under Aemonds skin just fine before they left, whispering rumors about his future bride in drunken slurs that made him both angry in a protective manner and angry in nervousness that the whispers might be true. 
“They passed her mother around the court like a toy to their whims, and when she was used up they killed her and replaced her with her daughter. You’ll get nothing but a rag dear brother.” 
The kingdom they flew to now had always been secretive within itself, and word rarely left it’s shores. The only thing anyone really knew is they had an army of soldiers that had yet to be conquered, who wore gold armor and spoke in ancient whispers. 
He is snapped out of his haze as Rhaenyra signals to land, and Aemond takes a moment to rejoice in the feeling of his feet on soil, focusing on that the entire hike up to the castle with his mothers arm now looped into his as Vhagar and the ship are left at the docks. 
“Don’t be nervous.” Alicent Hightower whispers, reaching a hand to swipe at his cheek, humming in discontent before licking the pad of her thumb and swiping his cheek once more. He groans, trying to pull back. 
Even if she meant well he knew his mother never understood how painful the skin near his eye was. The scar was always pulling and swollen, not to mention how hard the eye was to clean if the patch moved even the slightest bit. 
“I hear she’s beautiful.” Lucerys offers, keeping close to his own mothers side. “You saw her painting!” 
Indeed Aemond had, and like a lovestruck fool he had stared at it for hours until it was time to go. The very painting now sat in his chambers, waiting to be hung for after the wedding…. If there was to be a wedding. 
His chest tightens as the castle steps come into view, multiple figures dressed in their finest clothes standing among them. 
In the front, in the most ridiculous frille of red and gold, stood the king. A smug smile laced on his features as an overly large crown stands on his head. Beside him with her arms crossed primly was a younger woman, wearing a smaller tiara of red rubies and a busty gown that he was sure Aegon would have leered at, smiling from ear to ear. 
The king and his 5th wife then, and behind him a bit to the left on an upper step, had to be Verlain. The hand to the king. 
Two more figures a bit further up, one clad in a light blue dress, rubbing at her stomach softly as she watched with nothing more than a nervous expression. Making eye contact with Aemond for just a moment before her face goes red and she looks away, disgust at himself rising in his chest. 
What will my future wife think? He wonders, panic clawing at his throat. Will she refuse me? Will I truly be so ugly?
Before he can take a closer look at the boy beside the pregnant woman he looks over to…. You. Standing a little further to the right of the rest, obviously not really knowing where else to go, with a veil covering your face and wearing a gown of black and red. The long petticoat skirts held within your hands, the long bell sleeves barely covering your hands and the cape connected to the back of the dress making you look every bit pristine. 
The first thing he notes is the lack of jewelry. No rings, no crown or tiara, no bracelets. An odd thing since the rest of your family was completely adorned with anything they could find. 
“Queen Rhaenyra.” The king smiles, bowing his head the slightest inch, a fact that has both Aemond and Damon straightening. A slight to Rhaenyra, he was sure. “And her traveling companions. We welcome you.” 
Aemond risks another look to you as Verlain extends a hand to help you descend the stairs. He can’t hear anything of what anyone is saying as he watches you, heart thumping through his chest at your every movement. 
“-and this is my daughter.” The king mumbles out, his tone tightening at the phrase daughter as you bow gracefully, neck going low as you curtsy need to Rhaenyra then greet the rest of the party in correct order. Before he could say anything you lift the veil and his breath catches. 
The oil painting did you no Justice. And within moments he found himself yearning to trace his fingers over your cheek as he had done to the painting to see how the softness would compare. 
“And this is my brother, Aemond Targaryen. First of his name, rider of the great Vhagar and-“ 
“It is an honor.” The king interrupts Rhaenyra, your cheeks tinging with blush as your jaw tightens. You must know your father is being disrespectful then, and at least one of you has the decency to be embarrassed. 
“As much as I love flattery,” he begins, not tearing his eyes from you. “I’d prefer if you showed my sister more respect. Last person to disrespect her so had his head sliced through the middle.” 
Daemon has the audacity to check his nails for dirt as Rhaenyra sends him a knowing look, his mother tightening her hold on his elbow in approval before moving to you. 
“It is an honor to meet you.” She holds out both hands, which you calmly place your own above as you watch her, and Aemond sees the skepticism glint in them. The narrowing of them as your nose scrunches. “Your beauty was surely understated. Don’t you agree Aemond?” 
“Indeed. But to be fair I don’t think any painting or letter would ever do you justice.” You don’t say anything, merely bow your head in feigned shyness while the crowned woman behind you speaks up. 
“They say she has her mothers complexion.” She giggles loudly, and your spine tightens quickly. “May the child be blessed with the one good thing about her-“ 
“You’ve had a long journey. I’m sure your hungry and we still some final touches on this alliance. I trust you find my daughter to your liking?” There that tone is again, like he is disgusted to call you his daughter. 
“Of course. We accept the marriage proposal, let’s feast and forge out the rest of the details.” Rhaenyra nods, allowing Daemon to help her up the stairs as the king leads them inside. 
Aemond is torn between offering his mother his arm or you, desperate to touch you but not wanting to seem like the type to leave his mother. 
Lucerys is there, offering his arm and drawing the first actual smile from you, a wave of anger filling Aemond at the sight. “Might I escort you to dinner?”
“You may escort me up the stairs, but unfortunately it would be improper for me to join dinner.” His mother snaps her attention to that, watching you as closely as Aemond already had been while Lucerys leads you up the steps. 
They both watch as you look in the opposite direction of where you are walking, keeping your face turned away from one particular spot. 
“Is that…. Blood?” His mother gasps, and Aemond can do nothing but stare at the large stain of it, blinking slowly as the sun hits the dial at the top of the staircase. 
It was clear that this had been set up as a stage at some point, the message still stained into the earth. 
He doesn’t answer his mother, instead he helps her up the steps as he follows the rest of the group. 
-
He was angry. It was the only thing he could register, the anger. The rest of it was numb, the blade that took his eye had made sure of it. No love, no happiness, no remorse. He just felt anger. 
It burnt through his throat until he had no choice but to scream, tore through his chest like acid as he raged to relieve some of it, his sword swinging at anything he could. 
The posts on his bed were the first to have been attacked, the broken canopy it once held brutalized and torn in the corner. The desk was next and he even took a hot poker from the fire to shatter the mirror in one swift move. 
Every move was sheer force, every yell was an attempt to ease him, every slam of his fist and kick of his feet an instinct he could not fight. 
Where was the justice? 
People avoided looking at him now, whispers following him everywhere he went. Females outwardly laughed and gasped at him, acting as if he was a demon that had clawed from the shadows.
“Aemond.” Alicent tries, her hands folded against her dress as she watches her son rage within the walls of his room, feeling useless. He was in pain and there was nothing she could do. “Aemond please.” 
“I DONT WANT TO BE HERE! THEY THINK IM A MONSTER!” 
“Aemond-“ 
“KILL ME! KILL ME KILL ME KILL ME!” He rages, picking up the sword once more as she takes a step back, the tears falling from her eyes. She knows he would never, he was forged from steel itself, but the fear consumes her as she calls for Cole. Sobbing. 
“Help him.” She pleads, hearing the old dragon roar in the distance as Aemond shatters under the pressure. 
“It hurts.” The boy sobs, falling into the glass of his once mirror. “It won’t stop hurting!”
Cole nods, without a word he heaves the boy up, dragging him out and across the glass until they clear the room. His grip is brutal, even Aegon tries to stop them when they pass him in the hall. 
“Where are you taking my brother?” He snaps, standing straight, the soberest Aemond has ever seen him. 
But Cole doesn’t answer, and when Aemond trips the armor pinches into his skin as he is hefted back up until they make it to the training yard. 
“You want to die? Earn it.” Cole snaps, picking up a sword. He doesn’t warn his strike, Aemond barely has a second to dodge as the blade swipes at him, falling to the mud quickly. 
The wetness of it seeps into his clothes, staining them as his fingers dig in to crawl to the weapons to defend himself. 
He remembers the feel of the earth in that moment, latching on to that anger once more as he stands to fight.
You weren’t allowed at the feast, a fact that Aemond finds suspicious as his Uncle moves around the room with his hand on his sword ready for an attack, making eye contact with each servant there. Everyone was on edge, this entire ordeal one that screams trap. 
“Might I ask why the bride will not be joining us?” Rhaenyra breaks the silence, fixing herself in the chair given, nodding to the rest of her party to sit as well. 
“After the events of her mother…. It’s better if she doesn’t join us.” The king answers, casting a look to Daemon. “She mourns her mother. Taken too soon from an illness.” 
The air around them turns pungent, the sign of a lie fallen flat. Lucerys casts him a side look, his thick eyebrows pinched together in confusion as the king raises a glass to toast. 
“To the blessed union of our families.” Everyone raises their own glasses before taking a sip, but not Aemond, he sets his glass down and looks around the room some more while the conversation is struggling to be picked back up. 
“Those are lovely pearls.” Alicent tries, doing her best to ease some of the tension. 
���Oh thank you.” The young queen giggles, leaning forward. “It’s out of fashion out here ever since-“ 
The king slams his hand upon her own, a bang emanating from the wood. She flinches, but tries to smile through it and Aemond feels a rage fill him as he imagines you having to do the same thing before. Is that why you chose not to eat with them?
“Pearls are…. Out of fashion out here.” Your sister fills in the silence, “the woman at the court tend to avoid them.” 
“Speaking of.” Verlain smiles. “I have some things packed and ready to be transported. Gifts from the royal family to yours as a part of the arrangement. To be presented on the wedding day.” 
“I just hope there will be room for all of us aboard that ship of yours.” The king smiles, though Aemond sees right through it. 
“I can assure you it’s quite big. What a lonely ride it was here, while the others rode dragons. I am looking forward to the company on the way back. I do hope the bride fares well in the sea.” 
“I believe my sister to be excited for it.” The pregnant once smiles, the first real smile from this table. 
Aemond says nothing, picking up his goblet and draining the liquid in one easy go. Even the wine here tasted shit. Lucerys laughs under his breath when a pig is set on the table and when Aemond turns to glare thinking the jest is to him he finds that the young queen was using her cutlery to check her appearance. 
He leans closer, Lucerys following his lead. “I hope that my future bride is not too attached to her family. For if I have to spend a second past the wedding with them I might just-“ 
Alicent slaps his shoulder quickly, making him sit up as Lucerys snickers. Whether he got to finish his sentence or not the message had been delivered. 
She spent the last month of her life trapped in a tiny room, with nothing but a bed and a small window barred to keep her in. Her chamber pot was changed once a week and she was allowed one handmaiden. 
But she tried not to let it craze her, pouring herself into preparations for the future ahead of her. Everyday followed the same routine. 
In the morning she was brought to a chapel within the castle where the minister would pray with her, and every morning he would ask her if she had any sins she’d like to pray forgiveness for. She never did, for she remained adamant that she did nothing wrong. And she could withstand the scalding look the man gave her each time for his opinion did not matter, she knew her truth. 
She spent the days seeing, ordering dresses and adjusting them. Day after day. Ordering dress after dress, a small gift her lord husband had allowed her. If she were to die then at least she would die well dressed. 
But the dresses weren’t for her, she didn’t pour over every stitch for herself and she didn’t hem each one to perfection for her own vanity, for she knew the second this was over for her that her daughters life would be ruined. 
She would prepare as much as she could for her daughter, she was a mother and she would not fail her even in her last moments. 
Meanwhile you begged and pleaded for her back, crying into your sisters arms as she held you, rocking you back and forth. 
Your father hadn’t come to see you since she was taken, and you weren’t allowed at court, soon enough even your sister was denying visits. Left alone with your handmaiden until the fateful day. 
Verlain, one of your fathers men, came to the door and excitement filled you when you saw him. He had always been so kind and often stole sweets for you when no one was looking, but that morning he didn’t smile. 
“I thought she might want one more friendly face with her.” He explains to the handmaiden, who has tears in her eyes as she nods. She pulls you away and prepares you, lacing your corset and dressing you in black before taking your hand and leading you through the halls. 
“Are we going to see-“ 
“Shhh. Don’t say a word.” Verlain warns, trying to keep his voice soft. “Not today little lamb.” 
You nod, reaching to grab his hand as well as they lead you to the courtyard. You remain in the back, with a good view of the steps, still holding both their hands. 
Your mothers group of handmaidens stood to the side of the steps, all looking worried and most with tears falling down while someone hisses at Verlain. 
“You brought her kin?!” 
“The king demanded she be here.” Verlain answers back, something like grief crossing his face. “To witness.” 
And witness you did. 
You remember it well, the silent scream that clogged your throat and the way you tried running for her. You had fallen when Verlain pulled you back, your fingers digging into the mud as you tried to crawl to her with all your strength as the blood poured down. 
After you had been dragged, kicking and screaming, to your chambers you’d been thrown in by the guards. The first person allowed access to come and see you had been your mothers main handmaiden, one you hadn’t seen at the execution, who you would later learn had reported your mother falsely. 
She did not hug you, she did not coddle you. The only thing she asked was “your mothers necklace? Have you any idea where she hid it?” 
You told her no, still crying, feeling betrayed. 
She left soon after. 
A week after that you were forced to kneel before your father as he stripped you of your title and your lineage. “You are her daughter and nothing more. A bastard in the eyes of the faith and the crown.” 
You sobbed and begged him not to, crying over and over “papa!” 
He screamed at you, slapping you across the cheek so hard you sprawled across the stone. 
That night, your last night in the castle, you sat by a singular burning candle as an unknown phantom gently traced the bruise, singing softly to you as you waited for your mother to appear to you. 
If there was anyone who would use your gift you were sure it would be her. 
But she never came, and you were sent away, and soon the castle was scrubbed of her memory.
Your last night there was spent exactly the same as years ago, a fresh bruise adorning your cheek from your fat- his majesty, and you sitting by a candle and waiting for her. Silently pleading for her ghost to appear. 
“Come on mother.” You whisper, waiting. “Just one more time before I meet you in the afterlife. Please.” 
She does not show, and when the sun begins to rise you are escorted from your rooms down to the docks were your luggage was being loaded. 
“Is this all you have?” Lucerys, the name he introduced himself with yesterday, asks and you nod. 
“Not much is provided for Basta- for brides to be.” He takes your lie, smiling before you curtsy and allow him to run and catch up with his mother and father. 
“I hope you will be okay with entertaining my mother for the journey.” An even voice fills the silence, your heart lunging through your chest as you turn to see the prince. You thought he was gorgeous, desperate to reach a hand out and see what was under the patch. 
You refrained of course. 
He, however, seemed unable to control himself as he brought a hand up to the bruise on your cheekbone. His fingertips tracing over it ever so lightly. 
“How does he have black hair?” You ask, desperate to get the topic away from your cheek before it can even start. 
“It’s…. A long story.” He huffs, a small smile playing at his lips. “Might I escort you to your chambers on the boat.” 
He holds out a hand for you to take, and for a moment a pitch of fear fills you. Don’t look don’t look don’t look. 
But you can’t stop yourself from turning to those steps, and seeing the blood among them for the last time. Once you’re gone that’s all that will be left of her memory, and that tears a hole through your soul. 
She shouldn’t have to be alone here, but you were sure that you would find her soon enough, there was no way you would ever survive the Targaryens. It was the only reason your father would ever bother to accept this at all. 
So, ignoring the white haired god beside you, you turn fully to the steps and bow properly. “Until we meet again.” 
Your tears sink into the dirt, in the exact spot you once crawled, and when a breeze hits your cheek you can do nothing but lift your head to see her. Standing at the top of the steps, bowing back to you. 
Tears fall quicker, and your throat stings from it as you turn to grab the princes still outstretched hand, and as the last remnants of the second queen fade the last memory of her is lead away to the docks, clutching the lost necklace tightly in the pocket of a dress she once sewed. 
And you know, that just as your mother once did, you would meet your fate with your head held high. 
Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken. They cannot break me. 
But you hadn’t quite known what Kings Landing had in store for you, no one had expected it really.
(It's been a minute since I wrote something like this and this is the first time in months that writing hadn't felt like a chore. I hope you enjoy it!)
Part 2.... maybe?
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iliketangerines · 2 days
Note
Hello! How about the reader getting jealous of Smoke talking to another female Lin Kuei member, keeps their distance to prevent heartbreak, only for Tomas to confront them and admit their feelings for each other?
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i want you
a/n: hey, just a quick reminder to not send in your requests twice. there's about 70 (yes you read right), and so it really might take a long while to get to them. if i don't feel comfortable writing something, i'll respond to it saying i'm not comfortable.
pairing: tomas vrbada x gn!reader
warnings: none :)
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Smoke stares at you from across the training pits, fidgeting with the karambit in his hands as he watched you talk with Kuai Liang
he totally and definitely wasn’t jealous, but his training partner clearly notices on how he’s distracted and leaves more openings for attack than usual
she stops their sparring and asks Smoke what’s wrong, and the gray assassin sighs and dismisses question, saying that nothing’s wrong and that they should continue training
but his eyes glance over at you talking to Kuai Liang, hands animatedly moving in the air, and his training partner has a look of realization when she catches Smoke looking at you
she smiles and then starts to laugh, and Smoke frowns and crosses his arms, waiting for the girl to stop laughing at him
she wipes away a tear and asks if he wants some help to go and ask you out, and Tomas flushes and denies that he has any feelings
but with the way his heart beats in his chest and his stomach fills with butterflies, he knows he’s fallen hard for you
maybe it was when you first joined the Shirai Ryu, maybe it was when you smiled at him whenever you saw him, maybe it was when you sparred against him and won
well, whenever it was, Smoke had fallen hard, and he wanted to ask you out
Smoke waves his training partner’s laughs away, lunging toward her to start their training again
later that night at dinner, he sees you talking to Kuai Liang again, and he sighs and picks at his food with his chopsticks, not quite interested in eating with that sight in front of him
his training partner sits down next to him with her bowl of rice, and as she shovels food into her mouth, she starts telling Smoke that he needs to make a move, get you some flowers or maybe cook a nice meal, everyone likes that
Smoke shoots a glare at the girl before turning back to face you, and he finds you staring point blank at him before facing your food and eating
Smoke covers his face with his free hand and shovels rice into his mouth, trying to keep himself distracted from the way he caught you staring at him
the girl laughs and jabs her elbow into Smoke’s side and starts giving him some advice on how to woo a person, referencing her own experiences with dating her own partner
by the end of the night, Smoke starts taking the girl’s advice seriously and discusses his plan to take you out after training tomorrow and go down to the night market and stroll around
Smoke spends the whole day bouncing on his feet, anxious to get to the end of training and ask you out with some flowers he had picked out early in the morning
but whenever he spots you, it’s almost like you run away, turning around and giving half-assed excuses as to the fact you need to be somewhere else
Smoke returns to his room, flowers wilted in his hand as you had avoided him all-day, and he isn’t sure why you’re avoiding him
you two weren’t close, but you had never shied away
you had even sparred with him, but you had declined his offer to train together today
it grated on Smoke’s nerves and made his mind spin with anxiety, did you like Kuai Liang? did you not like him? what happened between yesterday and today to make you avoid him?
Smoke can’t sleep, but he decides to try again tomorrow and maybe ask Kuai Liang what’s going on
he finds his brother easily that morning during breakfast, and he asks about you, trying to keep his interest in you damped down just in case Kuai Liang liked you
Kuai Liang point blank asks whether or not Smoke likes you or not, and the assassin fumbles with his words for a short moment before he says that he does
the yellow assassin lets out a loud laugh and pats Smoke on the back before saying to go for it and that he may be surprised, and it gives Smoke confidence that Kuai Liang doesn’t have feelings for you and that you might like him as well
but the whole day it’s like you’re a whisper in the wind, barely around the compound where Smoke is, and he’s about going crazy to try and track you down
but he knows you have to attend the mandatory clan meeting today, and he spots you from the podium in the crowd, somewhere in the middle
when Kuai Liang dismisses the meeting, he bolts down into the crowd before you can disappear, and he grabs onto your arm
you look at him and tug your arm back into you and say you have something to do, but he calls your bluff, saying everyone’s done with training and there are no tasks to be done
all the weapons have been checked, he’s pretty sure you’re not on patrol, all the training rooms have been cleaned, and none of the plates or trays need to be cleaned by you today
you stutter over your words and duck your head down, and Smoke asks you why you’ve been avoiding him as of late
you’re silent for a moment before you steel your shoulders and say you saw him talking to a girl and that it hurt you because you liked him and didn’t want to be hurt
Smoke’s heart skips a beat in his chest, he had figured you probably liked him back from Kuai Liang’s comment, but to hear it from you sent his head reeling
you start to step away, embarrassed by Smoke’s silence, and the gray assassin calls out for you to stay to wait
he blurts out that he likes you too, that he wants to take you out to the markets and woo you properly, buy you food and win you prizes like on a proper date
your mouth gapes open, and you reach your hand out and grab onto his hand before asking really, as if you didn’t believe it
Smoke nods, and he can feel a blush creeping up as his neck as you flash him that dazzling smile
he asks if you’d like to go to the markets tonight, just for an hour or two
you laugh and pull him into a hug before excitedly saying yes and running off to go change out of your training uniform
you yell back you’ll meet him back here in 30 minutes before disappearing around the corner
Smoke hides his face in one had as the other rests on his hip as he tries to process what had just happened
he hears Kuai Liang approach him and clap a hand on his back, congratulating him on finally asking you out
Smoke mutters out a shut up before disappearing off to his own room to go and change
he wouldn’t want to show up on your date in his training uniform
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