#and then this was born out of a simply curiosity

[dr3amlab]

Sweet escape ⎯ jjk x reader

SUMMARY. The gala was boring, thankfully, Jungkook was there to save the night.

PAIRING. Jungkook, Y/N

GENRE. pure fluff, rich! jungkook, rich! reader.

WORD COUNT. too lazy

AUTHORS NOTE. hey y'all so I've never been to New York or a bodega so sorryyyyy if it's innacurate.

From the moment you arrived, the gala had felt stifling. The room brimmed with opulence: crystal chandeliers casting golden light, designer gowns glittering like jewels, and tuxedos tailored so sharply they could kill someone. The air was heavy with laughs too perfectly timed and fake smiles plastered constantly on faces, without a break.

This wasn’t simply a gala; it was a marketplace for power. Deals disguised as small talk, people showing off their wealth and champagne glasses clinking with agreements.

Even the champagne in your hand—a rare vintage you’d read about in Forbes—tasted sour on your tongue. You took another sip anyway, more out of habit than enjoyment, your gaze wandering across the room in search of something—anything—to make this night tolerable.

And then you saw him.

Jungkook.

He was leaning against one of the long, polished banquet tables, his posture casual. His tuxedo fit like it had been sculpted directly onto him. His dark eyes caught yours from across the room, his lips immediately curving into a grin at your sight that sent a jolt through your chest.

He raised an eyebrow at you, tilting his head slightly, a silent question.

“What?” you mouthed, trying to stifle a smile.

He didn’t answer, not immediately. Instead, he took a sip from his champagne, set the glass down, and crossed the room toward you with the kind of ease only someone born into this world of wealth could manage. When he reached your side, he leaned down, his voice low and intimate in your ear.

“We’re leaving,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You blinked, startled. “Leaving? What do you mean? We just got here.”

His grin widened, and for a moment, you were sure he was enjoying this far too much. “I mean, we’re ditching this entire circus. Right now. You in or not?”

You hesitated, the weight of expectation pressing on you like a stone. You glanced back at the room—at the glittering chandeliers, the clinking glasses, the meaningless conversations.

Then his hand brushed yours. Warm, steady, and just enough to convince you.

“Fine,” you said, setting your glass down on a passing tray. “But you’re explaining this if anyone asks," you touched his chest with your index fingers, "this is none of my business if we get caught."

“No one will notice,” he said, smirking. “Trust me. These people are too busy pretending they’re not bored out of their minds.”

Without another word, he took your hand and led you through the maze of elites. You moved quickly but without haste, the confidence of your exits as polished as your entrances. People glanced your way, but no one dared to question you; power has a way of silencing curiosity.

The back door clicked shut behind you, and the cool night air hit your skin like a breath of freedom. You stood in the private valet area, lit by soft amber lights that reflected off the sleek lines of luxury cars waiting in neat rows.

Jungkook pulled a key from his pocket, clicking it once. The low purr of an engine answered, and a black Aston Martin rolled forward, sleek and unapologetically expensive.

“You had them bring the car around?” you asked, incredulous.

“What do you think I was doing while you were over there pretending to enjoy your champagne?” he teased, opening the passenger door for you with a dramatic flourish. "Aren't you a villain? You planned this meticulously, didn't you ?" you teased.

You slipped into the seat, the soft leather cradling you like a second skin. He slid into the driver’s seat a moment later, the car’s controls lighting up under his hands as he adjusted the mirrors, tossed his jacket in the backseat and peeled out of the lot with effortless precision.

“Where are we even going?” you asked, kicking off your heels and tucking your feet beneath you. . The gown might have cost more than most people made in a month, but at this moment, you didn’t care if it wrinkled.

“You’ll see,” he said, the city lights reflecting in his eyes as he glanced over at you. “Trust me.”

“Trust you?” you repeated, laughing softly. “You just dragged me out of a $10,000-a-plate gala.”

“And yet,” he countered, his grin mischievous, “you didn’t even try to argue.”

The city blurred past as he navigated the streets with a confidence that felt second nature. Eventually, he pulled into a rooftop parking garage, the kind with a perfect, unobstructed view of the skyline. He killed the engine and stepped out, coming around to open your door.

“This is your big escape plan?” you teased as you stepped out into the crisp air.

“It’s better than pretending to like people I don’t,” he replied, gesturing toward the edge of the rooftop. “Come on.”

The view stole your breath. The city stretched endlessly, a sea of lights glimmering like stars. The faint chill of autumn lingered in the air, sharp and refreshing.

Jungkook leaned against the railing, looking more relaxed than you’d seen him all night. “Worth it?” he asked, his tone softer now.

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. “Worth it.”

He turned to you, his grin taking on that familiar mischievous edge. “So, how does it feel to ditch the gala for a view like this?”

“Liberating,” you admitted, glancing back at the skyline. “Though I’m sure the gossip blogs will have a field day tomorrow.”

“Let them talk,” he said, reaching for your hand. His grip was warm, grounding. “They’d find something to say even if we stayed. Fuck them.”

For the first time that evening, you laughed—a genuine laugh that echoed against the quiet night.

And as the city buzzed below, Jungkook smiled, his gaze lingering on you longer than it did the skyline.

But eventually, reality began to creep back in. You glanced at Jungkook, leaning against the railing with his hair tousled by the wind, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Alright,” you said, breaking the silence. “We’ve officially escaped. What now, genius?”

He tilted his head, considering you with an amused glint in his eyes. “You hungry?”

“Starving,” you admitted. The champagne had done nothing to fill you up, and you’d barely touched the microscopic hors d’oeuvres at the gala.

Jungkook straightened up, his grin turning mischievous again. “Perfect. I know a place.”

“Please tell me this place doesn’t involve a sommelier explaining the origin of the salt,” you said, giving him a pointed look.

“Nope,” he replied, popping the p. “I promise, no reservations required.”

The Aston Martin wound its way down the parking garage ramp. Neon lights and flashing billboards passed by in a blur, the car effortlessly weaving through the sparse late-night traffic.

When he finally slowed to a stop, you glanced out the window and blinked. “A… bodega?”

Sure enough, the glowing yellow awning of a corner bodega greeted you, its hand-painted letters advertising everything from sandwiches to lottery tickets. The fluorescent lights inside flickered slightly, casting a faint greenish hue over the tiny store.

“You’re kidding,” you said, turning to him in disbelief.

He was already grinning as he opened his door. “Come on.”

The bells above the door jingled as you stepped inside, and the sharp scent of deli meats and cleaning solution hit you immediately. The bodega was cramped, its aisles barely wide enough to fit two people side by side. Shelves overflowed with snacks and canned goods, all illuminated by flickering fluorescent lights that gave everything a faintly greenish hue.

And then there was the clerk behind the counter, scrolling on his phone without a care in the world—until he glanced up.

You and Jungkook were so out of place that his reaction was almost comical. Jungkook stood in his tailored tuxedo, the tie long gone and his collar undone. Meanwhile, you clutched your designer heels in one hand, your gown still sparkling like it belonged under a chandelier.

The clerk blinked, his expression shifting from confusion to resignation, as if deciding it wasn’t worth questioning how the two of you had ended up here.

Still holding your hand, Jungkook grabbed a basket from the entrance, swinging it casually as his grin lit up the store. “Alright,” he said, turning to you with a mock-serious tone. “What’s the plan? Sweet, salty, or chaotic?”

“Chaotic,” you replied immediately, scanning a nearby shelf stacked with chips. “If we’re committing to this escape-from-reality thing, we’re doing it right.”

He nodded solemnly. “I respect that.”

The two of you wandered down an aisle together, gravitating toward the snacks like moths to a flame. Jungkook grabbed a bag of spicy chips and tossed it into the basket without hesitation. “Essential,” he declared.

You held up a package of neon-green sour gummies. “How about these?”

He squinted at the package, pretending to deliberate. “Hmm… passable. But only if we balance it with chocolate.”

Rolling your eyes, you plucked a bar of dark chocolate from the shelf and added it to the growing pile. “There. Balance achieved.”

“Perfect.” He picked up a tiny jar of peanut butter, holding it aloft like a trophy. “This too. Trust me.”

“Peanut butter? Really?”

“Yes, peanut butter,” he said, his tone firm as he placed it in the basket. “You’ll thank me later.”

By the time you reached the drinks, the basket was overflowing with a kaleidoscope of snacks—chips, candies, crackers, and even an impulsive pick of pickles. Jungkook studied the rows of soda cans with the intensity of someone analyzing stock market trends.

“Too sweet,” he muttered, putting one back. “Too boring. Ooh, this one has a bunny on it.” He tossed it into the basket with a proud grin.

You laughed, grabbing a can of sparkling water. “And for me, something a little more… refined.”

“Refined?” he echoed, raising a brow. “You’re barefoot in a gown, in a bodega at midnight. I think ‘refined’ left the building about an hour ago.”

You bumped your shoulder against his, grinning. “Let me live.”

As you rounded the corner toward the baked goods, something under the glass display caught your eye: a slightly misshapen cinnamon roll, its icing glistening under the harsh lights. Your heart skipped a beat.

“That,” you said, pointing with conviction, “is mine.”

Jungkook followed your gaze and smirked. “You’re sure? It’s… seen better days.”

“It’s perfect,” you insisted, tapping the glass to signal the clerk.

The man behind the counter shuffled over, raising a single eyebrow at your ensemble but saying nothing as he carefully placed the cinnamon roll in a paper bag.

“Anything else?” he asked, his voice gruff but not unkind.

Jungkook leaned on the counter, his grin playful. “What’s the secret menu? You know, for the cool kids.”

The clerk snorted. “Coffee’s fresh. That’s about as fancy as we get.”

“We’ll take two,” Jungkook said smoothly, ignoring your protests as he handed over a few crisp bills. He grabbed the steaming cups a moment later, holding one out to you with a grin.

You found a small table in the corner of the bodega, the chairs mismatched and the surface slightly sticky, your knees were touching his and the basket of snacks spilled across the table.

“This,” you said, breaking the silence as you tore off another piece of your cinnamon roll, “is the best thing I’ve eaten all night.”

Jungkook smirked, leaning back in his chair and sipping his coffee. “Better than the miniature lobster tarts and gold-dusted macarons?”

“Way better,” you said with conviction. “Although I guess I didn’t eat much of those, did I?”

“Because you were too busy being miserable,” he teased lightly.

“Not anymore.” You met his gaze, your smile softening. “Thanks to you.”

Jungkook reached across the table suddenly, brushing a crumb from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. The gesture was casual, yet it sent a wave of warmth through you that was anything but.

He set down his cup, his expression shifting just slightly, the teasing fading into something quieter. “You know I’d do anything for you, right?”

The words hit you harder than they should have. You felt your breath catch, your heart doing that annoying fluttering thing it always seemed to do when he let his guard down.

“What?” he asked, his grin reappearing as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the edge of the table. “You look like you’re about to cry. Did the cinnamon roll disappoint you?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, it’s perfect. I’m just… I don’t know. Happy, I guess. Like, really happy.”

He didn’t reply right away, just tilted his head slightly, studying you like you were some sort of puzzle he was determined to solve.

The bells above the door jingled faintly every time someone entered, though the bodega was nearly empty at this hour. It made you feel as If your entire world had shrunk to this tiny corner store and it was kind of the case : As long as he was there, you always felt at peace.

Then Jungkook grinned, his expression turning mischievous again. “You realize this makes us official partners in crime, right? There’s no turning back now.”

“Obviously,” you replied, rolling your eyes, though your smile lingered. There was something absurdly perfect about the scene—the flickering lightbulb, the random bodega cat and the ridiculousness of sitting in a bodega dressed to the nines.

“You know,” he said finally, his voice lower now, more serious, “I really mean it Y/N. You're my partner in crime, my person.”

“For life?” you asked, your tone light but your chest tightening at the weight of his gaze.

“For life,” he confirmed, leaning closer.

Your breath hitched as the air between you seemed to shift, and everything faded into the background.

It was just him.

Just you.

And then he leans to kiss you.

Soft, at first, like he wasn’t entirely sure if you’d let him. His lips brushed yours gently, testing, waiting—and when you didn’t pull away, he deepened it, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw. The taste of coffee and cinnamon mingled between you.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against yours, both of you catching your breath. His grin appeared yet again, though his voice was soft when he spoke.

“Well,” he said, his thumb brushing your cheek, “guess there’s no going back now.”

“Was there ever?” you murmured, smiling against his lips as you leaned in for another kiss, this one bolder, like you were finally letting yourself want this as much as you had all along.

By the time you pulled away again, you were both laughing.

You grabbed the warm paper cup of coffee in your hands and it felt grounding, “partners in crime,” you said, lifting your coffee cup in a toast.

He clinked his cup against yours with a grin so warm it made your chest ache. “For life.”

“I hope you know,” Jungkook said, breaking the comfortable silence, “this means you’re stuck with me.”

You raised your brow. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because no one else would ever agree to ditch a gala and raid a bodega with me. It’s a very specific type of partnership.”

You laughed, tossing a gummy worm at him. He caught it mid-air, popping it into his mouth with a triumphant grin.

“And you think I’m the lucky one?” you teased.

“Obviously,” he replied, his voice light but his gaze warm.

When the two of you finally left the bodega, stepping hand in hand into the cool embrace of the city night, it felt like the world was brand new. The gala, the gowns, the chandeliers—they felt a lifetime away.

Because this moment, this freedom, this sweet escape was yours.

[archiveofourpwn]

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[beloveds-embrace]

DUKEDOM!141 AND MY LIFE IS YOURS 🙏🙏🙏🙏 (/nf please and thank you :])

Original post

Enjoy!! :D

Something all of them like to do is doll you up, and it becomes almost a private little routine between you and them.

John, as your husband (can you tell I love referring to him like this?), steadily takes control of deciding what you wear for the day even long before your request. It’s something that just… happens. He comes into your bedroom early in the mornings, and your maids scatter away to leave you both be with little giggles, excited at the prospect of you two finally getting ‘close’.

John doesn’t care for them. He greets you with a soft good morning (a few weeks later, he’d greet you the same but would gently caress your face with the back of his hand, the touch so gentle despite his roughened skin. It makes you into a blushing mess, though you tell yourself it’s just so that the peeking maids won’t suspect anything) and then goes straight to your closet, sweeping through the rows and rows of delicate, soft dresses with a discerning eye to select what attire you’ll wear for the day.

Of course, he does ask you what you feel like wearing, how you feel today in general, where you plan on going or meeting- everything to ensure the dress he’ll choose for you would be perfect. John doesn’t wait to see you in the dress, though.

He knows he’ll be seeing you all adorned and dressed up later, when you come down to dine with him. He can compliment you and pat himself on the back, then.

If he makes sure to match his cufflinks with the colors you are wearing, it will simply make whoever notice it think you two are such a lovely couple. And he still hopes that your maids will accidentally not tighten or cover up your hemline just so he can fix it himself for you.

John aside, Kyle takes care of your hair and jewelry. He makes you sit on the vanity, still alone and with none of your maids around, and then he begins the tender ritual of brushing your hair (if it’s not too curly for daily brushings). His hands, warm and careful and gentle, would then take care of oiling each strand. No oils or butters have been spared in the efforts of tending to you, and Kyle himself often turns the routine into a simple, but so effective, head massage session for you.

(Later, Kyle wonders what he needs to say and do to take over the job of the maids who help you bathe. You are always complimenting how good his hands feel on your hair, and he can show you how much better he is at using them for your body.)

Johnny eventually begins doing your makeup, on certain occasions. Once the truth comes out, the two of you are closer, and on one night, he tells you about his big family, his sisters and how they’d make him and his brothers help them get ready for events and parties.

It’s a simple question born out of your curiosity- what’s the makeup like where you were born, Johnny?- that has him in your bedroom often now, the other chefs taking care of the kitchen while his hands, clean and gentle, dab creams and whatnot on your face so delicately- like you are one of the cupacakes he decorates for your tea time.

He wants to kiss you so badly. You look so pretty like this, eyes closed and expression peaceful, patient and so trustful of his ministrations. He really, really wants to kiss you and see if the lipstick he’d applied on your pretty lips tastes as sweet as it smells.

Simon, though, is the one who slowly begins adding more and more to your dresses. John already supplies you with so much, but Simon is the one largely in charge of the silk and fabric importation and he knows well what styles will be popular next season, what styles will looks better on you and which colors suit you best. It’s not just dresses, but also matching fabrics and ribbons to go in your hair for when Kyle or your maids style, and for your pretty neck during more casual tea parties.

Not occasionally seeing you in the dresses he sends doesn’t bother him; you will be spoiling the others with the sight, and he can listen to them thank him in several ways afterwards and rest with the thought of you all dolled up, happy and thriving with them.

[idksmtms]

To Love, What A Curse (Aegon II x Little Sister!reader, Unrequited!Aemond x Little Sister!reader)

A/N: It’s taken me a week to get over Aemond’s betrayal but this was written at the height of my pain. 

Summary: (S2 episode 4 spoilers) You watch from a distance as Aemond and Vhagar send your husband and his dragon tumbling to the Earth. You land in the newly created clearing to find Aemond intent on murdering your beloved. 

Word count: 3,880

Trigger Warnings: 18+, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, canon typical incest, INCEST, age gap between reader and siblings because I needed it for a part of the plotline but I didn’t specify it, slightly obsessive reader, ig toxic codependency between reader and Aegon, unrequited love, angst, like a lot of angst, like ANGSTTTT, believing that a main character has died, Aemond Targaryen slander, (isn’t Aemond himself a warning??), SPOILERS: S2 Ep4, kinda smut? Like I describe the female body from a sexual male gaze, probs typos  (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim to own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

Even as a child, Aemond sometimes believed himself incapable of love. Not in a bad way, he did not feel he lost much without it, simply that he was incapable of it. Alicent, in the rare moment she chose to spend her time with her children, would read a story all about love, and he would find he could not understand it. He simply couldn’t relate. He had warm feelings for Alicent, a certain care for Helaena to be sure, but it was always belied by a certain numbness in his heart. 

And then suddenly… there you were. In his mind you appeared out of the fire. Like a dragon rising out of the ashes it created. In reality, you had been born just as he was reaching maturity, the age when you finally started remembering things for the rest of your lifetime. He had stood outside of Alicent’s birthing chambers, anxiously waiting for her to come out and tell him everything was fine. He could hear her screams, guttural and animalistic. He had only ever heard the dragons make such sounds. And then there was silence, a long moment of silence he would never forget because he knew not whether Alicent was dead, the child dead, everyone dead but him. Then the cry of a child, loud and shrill and rather annoying. 

He had pressed his ear to the door to try and listen, but all he got was cooing and hushing and the clatter of tools and the sloshing of water. It was but ten minutes later he almost fell forward into the room when someone opened the door. Alicent lay on the bed, shining with sweat, her beautiful red hair spread out all over the pillows and her eyes closed as she took deep breaths. A nursemaid on the side beckoned him inside as she gently swayed with a bundle of cloth wrapped in her arms. He wasn’t sure who to go to at first, Alicent or the short chubby woman with red cheeks who smiled warmer than Alicent ever had. He chose the latter, his intense curiosity to see the child surely contained in the bundle of cloth in her arms far outweighing the concern he had once held for Alicent. 

The nurse maid simply handed a young Aemond a little bundle of blankets with your little baby face peeking out of it. He stared at the pinched little face, this wriggling creature that was red all over. He believed that that was the first time in his life he had felt real love. Oh, and when you grasped onto his finger with your little hand, he felt he had been placed in a hot pan to gently heat up from the inside-out. From that moment on he had loved you. He had loved you so dearly that sometimes he snuck into the nursery just to watch you sleep. 

You were small, innocent, like a fresh snowflake fallen into the palm of his hand. You were to be protected at all costs, for the rest of his life. He willingly took up the challenge. Your entire childhood seemed a collection of memories of Aemond. Aemond cheering you on as you called ‘dracarys!’ for the first time. Aemond chasing you around the halls of the red keep when you wanted to play. Aemond distracting you when Alicent couldn’t be bothered to be your mother…  

Though it began as something innocent, something brotherly and sweet, it seemed the Targaryen curse for it to grow out of control. Suddenly a few years passed and you had become a woman. And suddenly he could not keep his eyes off of you no matter how hard he tried. One night, some moons after your eighteenth nameday, he had come to your quarters to return a book he had stolen at some point during the day. Not realising that you had had a rather difficult day, that you had wished to bathe in peace, you had sent all your maids away. He had walked in on you rising from your bath. No one had been there to stop him or usher him out, and he had stood there, frozen, watching you jump and try to cover yourself with your hands before grabbing the robe left on one of the tables beside the bathtub. He had dropped his head, his remaining eye shuttering open and closed like the wings of a butterfly. A short and quick ‘my apologies’ left his mouth and he walked back out. But the image came with him. 

You, shiny and wet, glistening in the light of the fire. The sound of the water dripping off of you and back into the bathtub, little plink plink plink sounds as they hit the edges. Your hair, darkened at the edges and sticking haphazardly to the skin of your shoulders. Your breasts, your stomach, your thighs. The space between them that was just shadowed enough that he could only see the top where your lips began to separate… He could not sleep for days for fear of encountering the image again behind closed eyes, in the free land of his dreams.  

You were sweet, and kind, a bit of a miracle considering the situation you had been raised in, and it suddenly seemed an unfair expectation for him not to fall in love with you. Had you not been made for him? Crafted by the same womb to be his for eternity? You defied everyone with your kindness devoted to him. You made him smile with your smile, made him dance as you danced. You sang little songs you made up in your head and cuddled into his side so he could read to you in High Valyrian. You seemed just as attached to him as he was to you. You were perfect… except for one thing. What he considered your fatal flaw. Your unending, almost obsessive devotion to Aegon. 

Mayhaps you had had the same effect on Aegon as you had had with him. Maybe it was simply that you had slowly made Aegon partial to you by being that sweet creature that you were. Though he believed anything possible when it came to you, he was never quite sure how you had changed Aegon. If not for everyone, but at least for you. It was obvious to the eyes of those who could view into House Targaryen that Aegon, described by his closest family as a hedonistic wastrel, cared for you, took care of you, hid from you all the deficiencies of his character. No one could make head or tail of it. How did you differ from Helaena or Aemond or even distant Daeron? You, conceived exactly the same way as the others, related to him exactly the same way as the others, were no different to the siblings he already had. But he thought Helaena weird, thought Aemond a rather pathetic and easy target, didn’t think of Daeron at all, and viewed the rest of his life as an excuse to get drunk. Aemond believed it to be your kindness that, if capable of piercing his own stony disposition, could easily curl up around Aegon’s fragile heart and devote him to you.  

In truth, out of all of his siblings, you had simply been the one to truly love Aegon, whether he wanted it or not. You seemed to make up for all the love he lacked from every other person in his life. You saw him as the eldest, the one to look up to, the one to lavish with love and devotion in your position as the youngest. He would be the one to protect you, the one to treat you as his littlest and most loved one. Wishful or not, all the stories told you that this was his position. Though Aemond spent most of his time looking after you, being the protector, you did not seem to hold him in esteem for it. He was simply there. 

At first, Aegon had failed in these expectations of yours. He had not bothered to spend time with you, not bothered to indulge in the love you so freely offered him. He believed you were just another creature created by Alicent to look down upon him. Another person to disappoint with his shortcomings. He later considered those his lowest moments. But then he had seen the way your face fell when he had shooed you away, saw the way tears collected at the corners of your eyes when you offered him a flower and he had barely turned. Slowly, he began to humour you, smiling widely when you offered him the flower once more. Not shooing you away anymore, but simply telling you that he would come find you when he was available to do it. He pressed kisses to your little cheeks and tickled your stomach. And with this care returned, your devotion grew. 

He remembered vividly the first time he had truly noticed not only how much he cared for you, but how much you seemed to care for him in return. He had taken the blame for you once, when Alicent had walked into her living quarters and found a jug of wine spilled all over the floor. You had dropped it in your bid to reach up and grab it, hoping to sip from the jug though you weren’t allowed wine yet. Aegon had claimed it was him, that he was too drunk to see properly (when in fact he had been sober for the first time in a long time). He had been sent to bed without being allowed any dinner, and Alicent had raged at him for twenty minutes about his lack of duty, respect, propriety. But then you had snuck to his room after everyone had gone to bed with two plates filled to the brim with food. He felt he had never eaten better in his entire life. You had sat with him, giggling then shushing yourself as you looked up at him starry eyed. You seemed to give him all the kindness and love you possessed in your body, and he was ready to take. Frankly, he had nowhere else to get it from anyway. 

Maybe some part of you had always believed that you and Aegon were meant for each other, but you truly seemed to realise it the night Aemond read you the Targaryen histories. He had started at the beginning, telling you all about Aegon the Conqueror and his sister-wives. You had sat up on his bed, pulling out from under his arm and turning to face him as you listened, enraptured. As Aemond spoke of the love Aegon bestowed upon Rhaenys, you thought of your Aegon. Of course, it all made sense now, you were destined. He was Aegon, and you would be his sister-wife, his Rhaenys, meant to be as it was in the greatest of histories. 

When your dragons mated, your beauty and his Sunfyre, it felt cemented into fate. It would have to be so. The gods had deemed it. When Otto and the council began clamouring for the children to be married, particularly Aegon, Alicent had gone to pray every day in the sept for a fortnight before allowing your betrothal. You secretly believed that she was praying for the gods to intervene somehow but you knew they were the ones that had chosen this. 

When your betrothal was announced, it was the first time neither you nor he had complained about a decision made by Alicent or the council. Alicent had called all of you to her chambers, Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, and you, to announce it, and neither you nor Aegon had a word to say in dissent. You had simply turned to each other and nodded, little hidden smiles only visible in the dancing of your eyes. Of course neither of you noticed the way Aemond clenched his fists behind his back, or the stony glare he switched between Alicent and Aegon. He had come over, kissed you on the cheek and whispered his congratulations as you hugged him animatedly.  

Aegon had even kissed you for the first time the night of your betrothal ball, hidden in an alcove at the darkest part of the night, hands buried in your hair, tilting your head back and pressing his mouth to yours as if he wanted to devour you starting at the lips. He had whispered ‘I love you’s’ in your ear the entire evening and you danced with no one else. 

Aemond was not sure when you broke his heart the most. When you had gushed to him all evening about your elation at being betrothed to Aegon, when you had seemingly forgotten his existence the night of your betrothal ball, or the evening you announced you were pregnant with Jahaerys and Jahaera. 

People seemed to tread carefully around you after Jahaerys’s death. You believed this to be the reason you found out too late that Aegon had taken off to Rook’s Rest. 

Every day, at some random point in the day, you would seek out Aegon, and the both of you would sit curled up together eating biscuits, drinking wine, and comforting each other. In the aftermath of Jahaerys’s death you had thought that was a necessity lest he try and run from you in his grief. Though he had still bludgeoned the man to death, had still had all the ratcatchers hanged, you were simply happy that he did not hide from you. 

In that spirit, you had gone in search of him, only to find out he had left an hour ago to chase down the battle after conversing with Alicent. You were forced to waste a little more time to change into your riding clothes as your beauty was saddled, though you had abandoned the attempts of your ladies maids trying to pull an extra blouse over your head. You wore only a simple tunic over your chemise and ran for the dragonpit. 

You weren’t quite sure why the gods wanted to punish you so. Your baby, little Jahaerys, was his death not enough? You were late, but not late enough to be spared the vision from a distance of Aemond commanding Vhagar to attack Sunfyre and Aegon. Your heart was in your throat, choking you. Your grip on the reins loosened, and as you watched Sunfyre tumble down from the sky, your dragon shrieked and began flying even faster. You heard the crash, even from how far you were. Your hands were sweaty and cold, and suddenly you wanted nothing more than to be off the dragon. You began unclipping yourself from the saddle, ready to slip off and plummet to the ground. Your mind was running so fast you couldn’t grasp a thought, only saw what you saw, heard what you heard, and felt what you felt. There were no words. But you stopped yourself, clipped yourself back in, and let yourself be brought ever closer to Aegon in whatever condition you would find him. 

Aemond watched the forest floor burn around Aegon without a single feeling. He watched the embers on Aegon’s body, sizzling away at his hair and skin. He watched the soot gather on Aegon’s armour, watched Sunfyre huff and writhe in pain as the fire continued its relentless assault all over their bodies. He did not feel anything. No remorse, no fear, no sadness. There was no happiness either, no joy or elation. There was simply nothing. 

His sword was in his hand, pulled mostly out of the scabbard, when he heard rustling behind him. He turned slightly, just enough so his remaining eye could gaze on the intruder, and he saw you. At first he blinked, once and then twice to be sure you were there and not a mirage in the heat. But then he saw the way you were looking at him, the creases around your eyes and mouth as you gasped, mouth agape in pain. Your breaths were ragged, and you were still mostly hidden in the brush, but he could see your face so clearly, as if you had been outlined against the shrubbery. The face that he had watched grow out of its baby fat and into the shape of the young woman that you were. The face that had once smiled brightly in his direction and sought him out for comfort. The face that he had loved so dearly. The face that now burned with rage. 

“You-you traitor! You coward! You have no loyalty, no respect!” You sounded almost hysterical as you spoke, clambering over shrubbery and shattered branches. Aemond stared at you as you screamed at the top of your lungs, each word laced with the deepest pain one could possibly experience, a half-sob half-choking sound. Your cheeks were bright red and shiny with sweat, you had shed your riding coat and your grey pants were covered in sap from clambering over a tree trunk. Aemond thought you had never looked more beautiful. “You truly are self-serving, and-and cruel.” Each word hit him in the chest as if Vhagar was breathing fire directly at him. He would not care if it had not been you saying these words. His grip on his sword tightened as he watched you begin to shed tears (though you already had dried tracks down your cheeks), hurrying around and looking for a way through the circle of fire around Aegon and Vhagar. You turned to him for a moment, a singular moment, and his heart stopped dead at the way your face was contorted in pain and anger and pure hatred. Your eyebrows knitted by a crease above your nose bridge, your mouth pulling back at the corners and your eyes burning like wildfire. “You’re a monster.” 

The word seemed to echo in the forest, even above the sound of the fire. His mouth was slightly open, his breaths heaving as he stared at you with a sense of his body crumbling. Not once in the entire battle had he felt this close to devastation. Not once in his life. Even in the darkest nightmares he experienced, not once did he ever imagine you saying these words to him, to look at him so… 

Aemond had not once cared about Aegon’s wellbeing in his entire life. Even now, he did not care about it. If Aegon died he would not shed a tear. In all honesty, he would be more inclined to smile, but watching you walk through fire to get to that manic drunk’s body sent a spear through his heart. Why? Why were you so willing to succumb to your own death for that fool? Why, throughout your entire lives have you always chosen Aegon, when he was standing right here, ready, rather, impatient, to love you? He would have raised his sword and begun walking again, a certain defiance suddenly filling him to the brim, had it not been for the way you began to wail at the sight of Aegon. 

It was a wail of death. He did not think a person was capable of this sound. Around him in the forest, another high keening sound began. It was your dragon, head raised to the sky, mouth open and roaring like the pain was within her. Then, behind him, with the very ground rumbling as she rose, Vhagar raised her head to the sky and roared so loud that legend states it was heard from the Wall to the southernmost tip of Dorne. Even Sunfyre, with his last breaths, keened in pain and joined the cacophony. Aemond pressed his hands to his ears and waited for it to cease. A war was being waged on him, inside and out. 

He closed his eyes, trying to forget you, forget the pain you inflicted on him simply by being in pain, but the gods would not let him. 

You were on the floor now, hands shaking as you reached out to pull Aegon’s half-singed body onto your lap. You were caressing his hair, rocking back and forth and crying salty tears directly onto his wounds. Aemond could not move. However much he wanted to walk toward you, wanted to walk away from you, the gods had set him to his place. You turned your head up to look at him through the fire, shaking and hiccuping. Your eyes were so full with tears that he could only see light reflected in them. 

“What did you hope to get out of this?!” You sobbed, almost screaming with the pain. It was minutes before you could even speak again.“Did you expect I would suddenly love you? Did you think you could buy me with a crown?” 

There it was, finally out in the open. The truth both of you had danced around since you had become of marrying age. You had known, of course you had known, though he had never been overly blatant about it, it was obvious that he had favoured you. The night your betrothal to Aegon had been announced, Aemond had gone to Alicent to beg her to change it, to offer Aegon Helaena's hand instead. But she had been adamant. His grandsire and Viserys had stated that it would be best for Aegon to marry a sister, prattle about emulating Aegon the Conqueror and preserving the purity of the King’s bloodline. It made sense to marry him to the youngest. Helaena could still be used to marry for advantage, a second child but first daughter held more sway. 

He could see that secretly his mother was happy to betroth Aegon to you. She didn’t want her youngest daughter to leave. She was by far more attached to you than any of her other children, and if you hadn’t married Aegon you would’ve been sent off. One marriage between siblings was enough, the rest were simply assets in a bigger game. 

Now, as Aemond looked at you, he could see none of the love you had once bestowed on him. The face he had once longed to caress, the lips he had once wished to kiss, all appalled at the sight of him. You had never sneered at him this way before, never even turned your face or voice to him in a negative way before. Maybe this was a nightmare, and soon he would wake up, sweating and panting and looking around with fright, before seeking you out, happy to discover that you were still unmarried, and ready to cuddle him to sleep.

You clung to Aegon even tighter as you glared at Aemond through your tears, just a blurry black spot in a sea of green. “If I was even capable of loving a creature like you before you did this,” you spat with such venomous rage that even Vhagar bristled behind Aemond. “I am incapable of it now.” You turned your head back down to Aegoon, and seemed to curl your body around him like a dragon curling over her eggs. The edges of your dress caught fire and slowly began to burn but you let it, not even feeling the heat. 

Ser Criston found the three of you like that, as if suspended in time. 

Taglist: @summerposie, @izuoyarmin 

A/n: Tell me. Was Aemond or Reader right about why Alicent didn’t refuse the betrothal between reader and Aegon? 

[hannieehaee]

raindrops (an angel cried)

18+ / mdi

summary: being assigned watching duties over humans was usually a task reserved for high level angels. on jeonghan's first week of promotion, he finds himself far too curious about licentious human activities, becoming infatuated with his assigned human. what happens when his interest goes too far, it gets him kicked out of heaven?

content: fallenangel!jeonghan, jeonghan is your guardian angel up until he gets kicked out of heaven oops, infatuation, inexperienced jeonghan, even as an angel he's still a menace to all, heaven is super strict, afab reader, smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of masturbation, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 11.1k

a/n: the lore on this is so nonsensical pls just work with me. i hope despite that u guys enjoy thoughhh<3

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

"Who is that?", asked Jeonghan, apprehension in his eyes.

"That's your human."

"My human? I'm getting a promotion?"

"Listen, Jeonghan. I had to call in a lot of favors to get the higher ups to let you get this promotion. You better follow the rules to the letter. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Kwannie, I know," he rolled his eyes, "Why do you have so little trust in me?"

"I'm serious, Jeonghan. If you keep messing up, you might get kicked out of heaven. Do you really want to be down there with the humans? Being a mortal?"

Jeonghan couldn't help but think the idea sounded enticing.

He hadn't had too much exposure to humans thus far, but he had always had great interest in them. They just sounded so free and different from one another, unlike in heaven, where specific behavior was to be expected from every working angel.

Within heaven, you were either born as an elite sort of angel, – with all their angelic duties assigned – or you were born human and then admitted into heaven as an angel, getting to enjoy eternal happiness with your loved ones. Jeonghan, sadly, was the former. Having been born into an angel position, it meant that although his life was not miserable by any means, it was just a closed box of responsibilities to fulfill until the end of eternity. He truly envied all the humans-turned-angels in heaven, often asking them about their memories as humans and trying to live vicariously through them.

Due to his constant curiosity of humans, Jeonghan often got in trouble as he stuck his nose in places it shouldn't be. As an angelic being, Jeonghan's duties as an angel were mostly clerical, managing which human each angel would be assigned to as a guardian angel. Ever since being born as an angelic entity, Jeonghan's dream had been to be promoted into a guardian angel position. In his current job, the most interaction with humans he ever got was the ability to see a quick overview of their timelines in order to assess which guardian angel would be the best fit for them. His job was comfortable and stable, never causing him any trouble. But he wanted more. He wanted to be down there, on the playing field as he watched over his own human.

So he would cheat occasionally, maybe snooping into human's lives for more than he was allowed to. Sometimes he'd pause on certain bits that drew a little curiosity and simply observe. He'd also on occasion tried to make his way down to Earth, only to check things out on his own. All his attempts were always met with reprimands from his higher ups, claiming that a soul as curious as his own should not be near humans. The existence of angels was meant to stay a myth, after all.

When Seungkwan took him into one of the offices designated for guardian angels, Jeonghan had been shocked. He had been banned from being brought here a few years back, so it was a very well appreciated change of pace for him. What was even more shocking, however, was when Seungkwan led him into one of the sphere rooms, which contained a view of any and every human in existence in real time. The most shocking thing, though? The pretty girl reflecting on the globe, very deep in slumber as Seungkwan revealed Jeonghan's promotion.

"Her old guardian angel retired. Chose to move to the land of humans-turned-angels. Angel Jihoon was simply going to ask you to assign her a new angel, but I put in a good word for you, so he gave you the job. Don't fuck it up, Jeonghan. Do you understand?", his friend was quite stern as he warned him.

"Big words for an angel."

"Don't go puritanical on me, Jeonghan. Your behavior in Heaven doesn't matter. It's when you meddle with humans that you'll get in trouble. Just ... Please follow the rules and don't step out of line."

Seungkwan was right. From all the accounts he heard from angels who had died and gone to heaven, Heaven and Earth were quite similar. People held jobs, lived a day to day life, had relationships. There were a few stark differences, though. There was no suffering in Heaven – no illness, no tiredness, no debilitating feelings. Sure, frustration and annoyance were a thing (God knew Jeonghan had felt those things), but it was virtually impossible to be truly unhappy in Heaven.

Jeonghan had no problem with Heaven, he was just far too curious about humans to stay still and do nothing. He was not allowed to admit it, but he had always wanted to know what it'd be like to be human. To live through pain, struggle, confusion. He just wanted to experience it all.

Angels had no needs in heaven. Hunger didn't exist, neither did aging or an itch to do or feel things humans usually engaged in. For instance, while Jeonghan had heard of sex and romantic relationships, this was something that angels did not have the innate desire to feel, as they were born fulfilled in every sense. Human-born angels, however, brought their humanly experiences and emotions along with them to heaven, sometimes telling tales of such things, always drawing Jeonghan's curiosity to new heights.

Looking at you through the sphere, Jeonghan felt excitement at thinking of what humanly emotions you may be feeling. He also felt giddy at knowing that you would one day come to pass onto his heavenly realm, where he would meet you after having known you for the entirety of your lifetime.

"Woah, really? You got a human now? Congrats, man," Joshua gave Jeonghan a bro-shake, clinking his wine glass with Jeonghan's in a celebratory manner .

Joshua was one of the few former humans that Jeonghan tended to hang out with on his down time. Despite having died of old age, he had been able to choose his 25 year old self to manifest himself as such on Heaven, conveniently matching Jeonghan's age range. He was also one of Jeonghan's main informants about what life on Earth had been like during his own time there.

"What are they like?"

"Not sure yet. I start tomorrow. She's a pretty thing, though," Han admitted, remembering how peaceful you looked in your sleep.

"Oh? Well, you gotta tell me everything about her when you start watching her. Man, I'm excited for you. You've been shooting for this since I met you."

"Yeah, sure, man. I'm kinda nervous. What if I fuck up? They'll throw me out of heaven," Jeonghan recalled Seungkwan's warning, also remembering every other reprimand reminding him of his punishment if he ever stepped out of line again. He wasn't sure what being kicked out entailed, as it wasn't a common occurrence in Heaven, but as much as he wanted to feign indifference, he did not want to leave his current lifestyle altogether.

"It'll be fine. As long as you don't try and meddle with her life, you'll be okay."

Yeah. Joshua was right. He just needed to follow the rules and nothing would go wrong.

Jeonghan's streak of good behavior did not last him too long on the job.

He couldn't help himself, not when you kept enticing him minute by minute of your day.

It wad almost as if you knew you were being watched, the way in which everything you did caught his undivided attention.

Guardian angels were not supposed to keep constant watch of their humans. This was just Jeonghan's personal choice, entirely fed by his curiosity of humans – and specially due to you. In usual terms, guardian angels would go through their regular lives, only ever checking in on their humans whenever their angelic senses felt a need to take a peek at their lives. Sometimes angels would end up checking in on their humans only once a month or so, never feeling the need to watch over every single moment. Other times, certain humans led lives that required a more watchful eye, causing their angel to keep better track of them. That was actually Jeonghan's previous job – assigning the right guardian angel to the right human, ensuring they'd get just the right attention from their angel.

Jeonghan's human did not require such close attention, but he just couldn't help himself. Within one day he was already enamored with you. And he only became more and more enamored as the days passed. He let go of all his other daily activities in favor of watching you, swooning over you. Although he still gave you your privacy whenever you did things such as go to the restroom or wash yourself, he was present at any other time.

He had actually made the mistake of staying present on what appeared to be one lonely night of yours.

As an angel, – a perfect being – Jeonghan clearly knew what you were doing. Contrary to popular belief back on Earth (at least by many of those who believed in Heaven), sex was not seen as a negative thing by the greater powers. Though such acts did not take place in Heaven too liberally, all angels were well versed on the carnal acts humans took part in. They just had no innate interest in such things. They could still engage in it, but it was just less common. This was yet another aspect of human life that guardian angels usually looked away from, seeing no need in guarding their humans during such an intimate setting.

Jeonghan always wondered how the physical act of sex manifested itself among angels. This was something that was entirely unspoken in Heaven. He knew angels could seek pleasure in such ways (he had done it to himself a few times, but wasn't well versed enough in it to truly find much pleasure in it), but since there was no innate desire for it, he guessed that most angels just didn't do it. If anything, it was more likely to be done by humans-turned-angels, since they had already done such acts in their previous lives. Jeonghan had meant to ask Joshua about this at some point, but he felt ashamed for some reason. He felt as if he'd be breaking a rule if he talked about it. This belief still did not prevent him from watching you play with yourself late at night, all while he laid on his own bed and attempted to play with himself in coordination.

As the days passed, Jeonghan could've sworn he fell in love with you. From your angelic appearance to your sense of humor, to your wit, (God, you were just his perfect match in every way), Jeonghan fell for you more and more each day. He came to wonder if becoming your guardian angel had actually been a punishment; to show him Heaven but not allow him to have it.

Luckily for him, he would soon find out.

~

"Let me go down there," he demanded after days of trying to get the heavenly council to give him the time of day.

The council consisted of a few of the highest regarded angels, along with a jury of angels that would rotate every so often. Luckily for Jeonghan, he saw some familiar faces within the jury on that day, with his buddies Jun and Seokmin taking part in it.

Currently, Jeonghan was directing his demands to head angels Jihoon, Seungcheol, and Minghao, who – with help from the jury – would decide whether his demand would be granted or not. He liked to think he had some pull with Seungcheol, but judging by the frown his face was adopting at the moment, he wasn't too sure anymore.

"Jeonghan ..."

"No, listen! Let me make my case."

Jihoon sighed, but gestured at Jeonghan to continue.

"You've been saying you'd send me down there as punishment for my behavior, but it wouldn't be punishment for me. I've watched humans for years," he winced at his own admission of guilt, knowing that only certain types of angels were meant to watch humans, and he wasn't one of them up until one week ago, "and I just know that I'd be an amazing guardian angel if you'd just let me go down there and see her."

Jeonghan had done all the math in his head. This would simply be a harmless experiment, causing no damage to anyone as he got a chance to live human life in the same way other angels had in their prior lives. Ultimately, he promised to cause no trouble on Earth and come back whenever the head angels decided.

These were all the arguments Jeonghan presented to the council, hoping that his selfish desire to meet you didn't somehow slip through the cracks.

The three angels huddled together after Jeonghan finished his long argument, surprising Jeonghan and all other angels present in the jury.

After a few moments, the three angels nodded at one another, seemingly coming to an agreement and turning to Jeonghan again.

"Fine. You may go," Minghao said decisively.

"W-what? Really?!"

"You're troublesome here on Heaven, I'm sure you'll somehow be worse on Earth," sighed Jihoon before continuing, "But, your arguments are valid. Heaven has been far too strict on working angels. Allowing you to experience what all other human-born angels have lived will cause no harm, and since you'd only be guarding your human, not much damage can be done."

"So I can go? I can be with my human?", he asked for confirmation, eyes still wide and mouth agape.

"Yes, Jeonghan. You may go. You will remain an angel as you stay with her, so you will have to learn to behave as a human. We will come to decide how long you get to stay, and whether or not you get to come back. I'm sure this will prove reasonable to you, with your curious nature," added Seungcheol, a small smile on his face at being able to grant Jeonghan's wish.

"Do you agree to these terms?", asked Minghao.

"Yes! I agree! Send me!"

"One last thing," interrupted Jihoon, "Only she can know your identity. We have assessed your human to be trustworthy enough for this experiment, but even this much is a risk. You must keep a low-key image while on Earth and not step out of line. Anything happens and we pull you back out. Understand?"

"Yes," Jeonghan nodded with all seriousness he could muster through his excitement and nerves, "I'll follow all rules. I promise."

"That's a first", chuckled Cheol before turning to the jury, "Any objections?"

Jeonghan looked to his friends in the jury with pleading eyes as they grinned at him and nodded in encouragement.

At receiving no objections, all three angels sounded their gavels, granting Jeonghan the wish to be a fallen angel, for however long they may wish.

Jeonghan's departure had been quick.

He bid his goodbyes to his closest of friends, promising to come back as soon as he could (though maybe that had been a lie – he wanted this to last as long as possible).

Despite his desire to leave and be with his human, he was still a bit sad he'd stay separated from his friends for a while. Time in Heaven passed quickly, but he would feel their absence all the more while on Earth.

The council had also granted him with the ability to rid himself of his wings whenever he wished. This way he'd be able to blend in with other humans in Earth.

Today was his last day here, which coincidentally was the exact same day the verdict had been ruled. He was happy to know the anticipation wouldn't last long.

"So, you fell in love with your human?", asked Seungkwan as he helped him make his appearance as humanly as possible.

"Maybe. Is that not a thing that happens to other angels?", he asked, knowing the answer already.

"No, Jeonghan. Angels don't feel romantic love for humans. I'm dating an angel, couldn't you just do that too?", he berated his friend, "Also, what did I tell you about following the rules?"

"Hey! I'm still on the job. I just might've done it a bit too well. And now, I get to meet her," he couldn't help but sigh in contentment at the thought of meeting you.

"What's so special about her?", asked Joshua, who was also there aiding Jeonghan in his makeover.

"Are you kidding? Joshua, you've been human. You've been in love. Hell, I was there when your partner finally arrived to Heaven. You know what it's like to fall in love."

"Hmm," he clicked his tongue, "I guess you're right. Still, I can't believe you're willing to leave Heaven for her."

Jeonghan couldn't really believe it yet either. He was so giddy about it, knowing just how perfect for him you were. Along with that giddiness, though, he felt nervous at the possibility of you not liking him as much as he did you. He expressed this concern to his friends.

"Are you serious? You're an angel. No matter if you try to hide it, which I know you won't, she'll know. I'm surprised they're even letting you go knowing she's 100% going to fall in love with you."

"Wait, really? What do you mean?"

Seungkwan sighed as if Jeonghan had just asked the most obvious question ever, "Dude, you're an angel. Angels have an alluring essence by nature. It won't take her long to see it and fall for you, specially since you're already interested in her yourself."

He had a point. And Jeonghan would likely do anything to get you to like him.

"Well, this is as human as I can get you to look, Jeonghan. You might just be too pretty for Earth. The women are gonna eat you alive," chuckled Joshua, stepping away from Jeonghan so he could look himself in the mirror.

They had trimmed Jeonghan's long locks ro shoulder-length hair, making him look a bit less ethereal (though his long, blonde hair still made him look angelic). Joshua had also styled Jeonghan in usual Earth fashion, ridding him of his white gown and putting him in some casual clothing.

Jeonghan liked it. And he had a feeling that you would too.

Holy fuck.

Jeonghan couldn't believe the sight in front of him.

It was you, in all your beautiful glory.

He had been transported directly onto your home, appearing in your room as he watched you sleep.

Luckily, you lived alone, which meant that he did not have to deal with anyone else's presence as he tried to figure out the best way in which to approach you.

When the council had transported him here, they gave him no advice on how to interact with you or even introduce himself into your life. They had left him to his own devices, so he was entirely unsure on what the best next steps should be.

Should he let you know he was an angel? Should he try to pretend to be human? There were no guidelines for how to do this; no Seungkwan to lead him in the right direction.

None of that mattered to him too much, though. He knew his internal instincts would lead him to the right

However, things didn't go as smoothly as he wished.

Despite knowing human customs, – they were mostly the same as that of angelic ones – Jeonghan admits to having been a bit of a creep in the way he first approached you.

Maybe caressing your cheek as you slept had not been the best of ideas, specially since you woke up almost immediately after, screaming at the sight of a stranger in your home.

Wingless and having the same appearance as any other human, Jeonghan stood like a deer in headlights, trying to calm you down and let you know he wasn't here to cause any harm, and that if you just let him explain, everything would make sense. Except he had no idea what that explanation could possibly be without taking the risk of freaking you out even more.

When you continued to freak out, locking yourself in your walk-in closet and yelling at him to get the hell out of your house, he decided to use some of his angel magic to get you to come to reason.

Teleporting himself into your walk-in closet, he held onto your arms as soon as he saw you lift them in fear at his sudden apparition, not understanding how in hell he had made it to the other side of the door while it was locked. He attempted to soothe you, which didn't work. So he went for the next best thing and covered your mouth with his hand in order to quiet you down.

He felt terrible at holding you hostage like this, but he just needed you to give him a chance to explain what was going on.

"I need you to listen to me, okay?"

"Hmph! Hmph-mhph!", you mumbled, words muffled by his hand.

"Please just tell me you'll let me explain. If you tell me to fuck off, I will, but just give me a chance."

He meant his words too. Even as infatuated as he was with you, he was willing to respect you if you found the situation too strange to deal with and asked him to get out of your life.

It took you a while, but eventually you visibly relaxed, nodding at him to take his hand off your mouth so you wouldn't feel as retained as you listened to what he had to say.

The two of you were sitting on the floor of your small closet, entirely too close to each other. But Jeonghan liked it. It allowed him to truly feel your presence for the first time. You were even more beautiful than he saw through that sphere. He hoped against all hope that you wouldn't be scared of what he was about to tell you.

"I'm your guardian angel," he started. It wasn't part of his original plan to tell you straight away, but looking at you, he knew he couldn't lie to you, "I know it might sound crazy, but I promise! I ... I was sent to Earth so I could watch over you. I, uh, I actually asked to be sent here. With you," he wasn't sure why he felt so embarrassed at revealing that. He was so sure of his feelings for you, but having you here in front of him made him lose some of his usual confidence.

You stared dumbly at him, eyes wide and confused. You didn't seem scared, but Jeonghan was also sure you probably thought he was insane. Then he remembered he could show you proof of his truth.

"Look, I'll show you, okay? Just, please, don't be scared," he hesitantly grabbed onto one of your hands, bringing it up to his own, surprised you allowed him to do so, "Promise me you won't run."

Seemingly thinking it over for a second, you nodded a moment later, intertwining your pinky with his own, "Okay."

Your voice while not taken over by fear was soft and alluring. Jeonghan couldn't wait to hear more of it.

Taking a deep breath before activating his wings, he grabbed onto both of your hands for support, closing his eyes as tight as possible as he allowed his wings to open up, creating a rip in the back of the shirt he was currently wearing.

As his wings opened up, the usual shine that came from them lit up the small space of the closet, tiny sparkles brightening up.

Hearing no reaction out of you, Jeonghan slowly opened up his eyes, scared that he'd find fear in your eyes.

But he didn't find fear.

Your eyes showed the opposite of what he was expecting. It was awe.

Unable to break eye contact with your eyes as you stared at him like he had put the stars on the sky, he moved closer, bringing up one hand to caress your cheek softly.

"Y-you're ... you're an angel?"

"Your angel," he clarified.

You disconnected from him, getting up and exiting the walk-in closet, making him deflate but continue to follow you.

You walked around your room in circles, seemingly trying to make sense of the situation in your head. After some moments, you halted your movements and turned to look to him, "Why are you here, if you're my guardian angel? Shouldn't you be in heaven?"

Although he had already kind of explained it, he guessed that maybe a more detailed explanation was necessary considering the strange circumstances he had put you in.

"I wanted to see you, see what being a human was like," he started, hoping you didn't find his statement strange, "I've only been your guardian angel for a short time, but you just brought out this curiosity in me that made me want to come down here more than ever. I know this might be too much all at once, but I just ... I just wanted to see you."

You looked affected by his words, maybe feeling for Jeonghan and his words. Your arms were wrapped around yourself, making yourself smaller while also protecting yourself from the strange situation. He hated that he made you nervous, but he understood. Still, he wanted to go back to a few moments ago when you were looking at him with awe in your eyes rather than confusion.

"You wanted to see me?", you parroted his statement.

He nodded, taking a tiny step towards you.

"Why?"

"I ... I don't know. I had no idea angels could fall for their humans in such a way. I think this might be unheard of," he chuckled humorlessly.

"So you're a fallen angel, then?" you joked, laughing awkwardly along with him.

"Hah, yeah."

Taking a seat at the edge of your bed, you patted the space next to you, inviting him to sit next to you. Putting his wings away to not get up in your space, he sat down, appreciating the gesture.

"I'll help you," you turned to him decisively.

"Huh?"

"If you wanna explore human life– if you want to explore your ... feelings for me, I'll help you."

"You will? Really?"

He was surprised at this, having expected fear or disgust out of you more than anything.

"Yeah. I mean, how often does a girl get to meet her guardian angel. And you seem harmless, so I don't see why not."

"Fuck," he breathed out, getting up, "Thank you, I .. Where do we start? Should we head out? Maybe–"

"Hold on," you put your hand on his chest to prevent him from walking away, "It's 3AM. I don't know if angels get any sleep, but I kinda need it ro function, so ..."

"Oh, right. Where should I sleep, then?"

"Angels sleep?"

"I can if I want to. And since I'm trying to assimilate to your people, I might as well."

"Okay. You can sleep, uh ... do you wanna share my bed?", you offered, pointing to where you'd just been sitting.

"You want to sleep with me?" he asked, a small smirk making its way to his face.

"God, I didn't know angels could even make innuendoes ... No, we'll just sleep next to each other, that's it," you clarified, rolling your eyes at the angel in jest.

"Fine, I guess we'll save the sleeping with me thing for later," he snickered at the groan you let out at him.

The two of you were already beginning to get along.

You began preparing an extra blanket for him, leaving the room for less than a minute, only to come back to him already laying in your bed.

"You ..."

"Oh, hey," he patted the space next to him, "C'mere. Need your human sleep, right?"

Bringing the blanket over with you, you used it for yourself, now that Jeonghan was using the one you'd been wrapped around in before he'd materialized into your apartment.

"Goodnight, Y/N," he mumbled sleepily.

"Goodnight ... Wait, what's your name, again?"

"Jeonghan. Yoon Jeonghan."

"Goodnight, Jeonghannie. Hope you enjoy your life as human," you bid him goodnight, quickly falling asleep after.

Jeonghannie ... Fuck, you were already beginning to get to him.

"Okay, there's gonna have to be some ground rules if you're gonna be leaving the apartment today."

It had been about an hour since you'd woken up, once again finding Jeonghan hovering above you as he watched you with endearment in his eyes as you slept.

The first thing you'd done was tell him that that was far too odd behavior to showcase around humans, to which he reassured you that he only felt like doing so to you.

After that, Jeonghan had insisted you let him accompany you everywhere you went, claiming that he could pretend to be a distant friend or something in order to get away with being with you while he explored human life. Reluctantly, you agreed, thinking it might've been too soon but reasoning that he had already come all this way just to be with you.

He nodded to your statement, enjoying your commanding tone as you listed out your rules.

"You cannot say any weird shit that gives away the fact that you're an angel,"

He nodded along.

"You have to stick by me at all times and never stray away from me."

He hummed, eyes attentive and on you.

You made eye contact for a quick second, gulping before looking away and continuing with your list.

"No meddling with my life or anyone else's with your weird angel powers, and no, I don't want to know what they are, just don't use them."

You continued to list more and more obvious things, most of which he had already heard from the angel council (and Seungkwan) before leaving Heaven. Still, he enjoyed listening to you, so he sat and stared at you with all his attention completely on you. Occasionally, you'd make eye contact with him, always looking away as if you'd been burned.

"And– and fuck, stop looking at me like that!"

He tilted his head to the side in confusion, "Like what?"

"You keep staring like I'm the angel, it's unnerving me!"

Chuckling, he nodded, "To me you are."

You sighed and ignored his flirting, continuing with your list.

"Are you willing to obey all these terms?", you asked once you had finished.

"I'll do anything you ask me. I'm here for you, after all."

It had only been a few hours since he met you, but he already enjoyed how you'd try to hide your flustered state any time he'd express his liking of you.

This was going to be fun.

~

As per what you told him, you did not have work today, which meant he could be with you the entirety of the day without getting in your way.

Due to this, today you were going to take Jeonghan out to a 'get-together' with some of your friends. He was looking forward to meeting the people he'd seen were part of your life. There were only a few characters he was curious about, not having watched over you long enough to figure out the nature of your relationships.

Vernon was one of the main characters he was interested in. He seemed to be just a friend, but considering human customs, Jeonghan couldn't be too sure.

When he asked you whether you'd be meeting him today, you were confused as to how he knew him for a moment, then remembering who he was and confirming that yes, Vernon would be present today.

Your morning routine proved to be quite interesting to Jeonghan. Unlike him, who could become dressed and presentable from his slumber with a snap of his fingers, you had multiple steps to take. He knew of the mundane human activities beforehand, of course, but seeing you partake in them in person was extremely intriguing to him.

The amount of needs you had was also quite interesting. From showering, to using the restroom, to eating, to even scratching your arm when it itched. Humans were truly complex and needy. Yet Jeonghan liked that. He ached for that. Being a perfect entity grew quite boring for him. He knew most people enjoyed it, but he wished for at least the chance to experience the mundane once.

This was the closest he would get, he guessed. And he still had no idea when the superior angels would pull him back up.

"Dude, what the fuck? Did you get a boyfriend?"

You slapped the boy's arm – Vernon's arm.

"Stop! We're just friends. I met him on twitter a few years back and he came to town, so, uh, yeah. This is Jeonghan, everyone."

Jeonghan currently found himself at an almost empty pub, standing in front of a booth filled with a few of your friends.

From Jeonghan's recollection, these were Vernon, – your best friend, as per your own words – Mingyu, Chan, Wonwoo, and Soonyoung.

Jesus, did you have to be friends with all men? And did they have to look almost as angelic as Jeonghan himself?

Despite Jeonghan's feelings of envy (an emotion he had not dealt with much in his existence), he was still glad to know that you had your own little group of friends here on Earth, just like he did in Heaven. Vernon was kind of like your Joshua, he assessed.

"Well, your friend's hot," Soonyoung broke the silence.

"Yeah, I know," you grumbled, taking a seat next to Mingyu. Before Jeonghan could complain about having no seat, you patted your side to gesture for him sit next to you, making him grin boyishly.

"So, Jeonghan. Tell us about yourself," Mingyu sipped his drink as he asked, "Oh! Chan, get him a drink, yeah?"

While Jeonghan tried to improvise some response, Chan handed him an open beer, seemingly expecting Jeonghan to drink it.

Grabbing the bottle, Jeonghan sipped it a bit, wincing at the rancid taste of it.

Is this what humans drank for leisure? Jesus.

"I'm Y/N's friend," he said blankly as a response.

Chan chuckled, "Yeah, but like, what do you do? How did you two meet?"

"Oh. I-"

"He's, uh, a social worker a few cities over," you interrupted.

This caught Wonwoo's attention, "Shit, really? I'm a social worker too. What do you do?"

"I watch over people, mostly."

That was half true.

"Nice. Anyways, work's boring, let's move on!", Soonyoung pushed even more drinks onto the table, "Tell us about your relationship with Y/N. Have you slept together?"

"Soonyoung!"

"It's a valid question! He's just your type."

"You've always liked them pretty," added Chan, nodding.

This peeked Jeonghan's curiosity, but it wasn't too surprising to him that your friends thought him to be your type. He had already caught you staring at him a few times through the past day.

"I didn't bring Jeonghan here so you could berate him about his sex life, okay? Stop," you took a frustrated swing of your drink afterwards.

The way in which your friends bantered with you made him think back to his friends in Heaven. But he pushed this sad thought aside to respond to the question.

Jeonghan took advantage of your mouth being busied by your drink to answer the inquiries about your friendship.

"We're just friends," he responded, "For now."

This caused a small commotion among the booth, making your friends throw childish 'ooo's at you.

Once again, you rolled your eyes and told everyone to shut up, lightly hitting Jeonghan's chest to reprimand him.

"So you brought your situationship to hang out? Doesn't that go against the rules of situationships?"

"He's not my-"

"I thought I was your situationship," whined Mingyu next to you, leaning his head against your own.

That caught Jeonghan off guard.

Although he didn't know what this word meant, he assumed it must've meant some sort of relationship. Maybe a relationship of sorts? Which meant that you and Mingyu must've had some sort of thing going.

This confused Jeonghan immensely. In the short time he had watched over you, he never once saw any evidence to show that you and Mingyu were anything more than friends. You'd usually see your friends once or twice a week, with Vernon being the only one you really saw on a daily basis. Did he miss something at some point? Had Mingyu been who you were thinking about that night he watched you masturbate? It must've been, if what Mingyu had just said was true.

"Your what?", he decided to ask, turning to you and ignoring all other eyes on him.

His eyes landed on Mingyu for a second, not liking the way he was so close to you. He hadn't minded it previously, but if the two of you really had something going on, then Jeonghan was going to have to break some rules and intervene.

Before Mingyu could respond (with that damned smile on his face ..), you interrupted.

"He's kidding. It's an inside joke. We accidentally went on a blind date together once so now Mingyu acts like he's my ex. He's an idiot, ignore him," you pushed Mingyu aside jokingly afterward, something which made Jeonghan smile.

"Okay. Good," he responded, going back to a relaxed stance despite the curious look a few of your friends were sending him.

The rest of the evening was spent like this, occasionally interrupted by Jeonghan's questions about human terminology that he did not understand (earning him multiple questioning looks from your friends at being so out of date), and frowning whenever there was any mere insinuation at you being anything more than platonic with any of your friends.

Overall, it went well. Jeonghan decided that he liked your friends (though he still wanted to keep an eye on Mingyu). It wad enjoyable to Jeonghan to watch human behavior first-hand, specially while he sat next to you, shoulder to shoulder as he occasionally allowed his eyes to quietly drift to you, admiring you while everyone else engaged with one another.

A few months had passed since Jeonghan arrived to Heaven, and Jeonghan was having the time of his life spending every waking moment with you. And he wad happy to say that it seemed like you were enjoying it just as much.

In order to show Jeonghan human life as much as possible, you had decided to work from home whenever possible, even using up a few of your sick days to take him out with you to explore your city and introduce him to as many fun human activities as you could.

When Jeonghan had informed you that he was unsure when he'd be pulled back to Heaven, you seemed genuinely upset, pouting at him that you were enjoying his company too much for him to get taken away. Your friends had also taken a liking to him, you confessed after a few more outings with them. He fit perfectly into your group.

Jeonghan had grown to become an integral part of your life. The two of you shared a bed every night, even waking up to partake in your skin care routines together every morning (a routine which Jeonghan did not need but simply copied for the immersion of it all). You were quite affectionate with one another too, always being called out by your friends on the unspoken nature of your relationship.

The two of you were practically twin souls as far as Jeonghan was concerned. You got along perfectly and existed in such harmony. Jeonghan couldn't help but grow to like you more and more as the days went by, constantly being told off by you for watching you so consistently. He had also caught you staring at him a few times, specially when you believed him to be asleep, but he decided to keep that to himself, simply enjoying the knowledge that you swooned over him as much as he did you.

Unfortunately, as the time passed, you seemed to run out of new experiences to show Jeonghan. You had taken him to work a few, allowing him to shadow you at your office. You had taken him on every single outing you could think of (most of which Jeonghan had come to find were usually considered to be romantic dates). You had shown Jeonghan mundane household activities, such as cleaning and cooking. You had also strictly prohibited his usage of his angelic powers, stating that they'd ruin the immersion you were trying to show him.

As you ran out of things to show him, he had one last thing plaguing his mind, but he wasn't too sure how to bring it up, or whether he should.

He could still think back to his time in Heaven, when he was first assigned to watch over you. It had been late into nighttime on Earth when he saw you, your lower half under the covers as you slowly removed your tank top.

He had been good, had decided to look away any time you undressed or needed some privacy, but your state had intrigued him. You looked desperate to undress yourself, quickly kicking off your covers and your bottoms along with them. As Jeonghan watched you in the nude for the first time, he salivated at the sight. He had seen all kinds of beautiful sights in Heaven, but you had been truly the most captivating of them all.

Jeonghan felt dirty, but he couldn't help but look as you began touching yourself, letting out the prettiest sounds he had ever heard. Your hands had gone to your breasts, tugging at your nippled with desperation as you whined. Jeonghan's own hands went to his pants, trying to calm a foreign feeling he had never felt before.

He had tried masturbating before, knowing that it was an act some angels also partook in, but he had never felt anything arouse him into doing it in the way you had. In Heaven, sex was really just a leisure activity, not usually caused by arousal. Angels had no necessities, so calming that ache was not something they ever had to deal with. This led Jeonghan into confusion, not understanding the effect you were having on him, though his desire caused him to ignore his confusion, instead continuing to palm himself as he followed your own rhythm.

After finding his high with you, he sat in the most satisfying post-orgasm glow he had ever felt. He had never experienced such a satisfying release, which made him become even more infatuated with you at the time.

This was the last time he had ever allowed himself to watch you as you got off, having felt like he was breaking a rule by doing so. Which he technically was, as angels were advised against intruding their humans' privacies to the extent in which Jeonghan had done.

And now the curiosity kept on itching at him. He wanted, no, needed to know what came after that, what such a carnal act would be like when done with someone else. In his time on Earth with you, he had already experienced arousal a few times. Waking up next to you was not something that really helped matters in that area, as he would be reminded of your beauty as you touched yourself every single morning you woke up pressed up against him.

You hadn't masturbated during his stay on Earth, or at least not as far as he knew. Jeonghan wondered if you felt as needy as he did, waking up tangled up together.

Then one day an answer to his question came along.

He had been watching you all morning, noting how pent up and easily alarmed you seemed. You had jumped back when he lightly nudged you in the kitchen while making breakfast, goosebumps forming on your skin. You had also looked away with a blush when he came out of the shower, only a towel hanging from his body. Even when he played with your hair as he usually did, you had shivered at his touch, avoiding his eyes.

All signs led to sensitivity. The same sensitivity he had felt any time he stared at you for a little too long, eyes shifting to the breasts he had once seen nude, or the lips that had released those pretty sounds that still played on repeat in his head.

So he went on a whim and threw all cares to the side, knowing that what he was about to do probably broke a thousand rules back in Heaven.

"Will you have sex with me?"

He couldn't blame you in your reaction, dropping the plastic bottle you'd been holding and having some of the liquid spill to the floor.

"What?!"

Getting up from his seat at the kitchen table, he walked over to where you were leaning against the counter, standing in front of you as he responded.

"You said you were running out of human activities to show me. You haven't shown me this," he said quite matter of factly.

"Y-yeah, but-"

"I see the way you look at me. You want me. And you know I want you," he lifted a hand to run a lone finger on your cheek, "don't you?"

"I ... I know you like me, Jeonghan, but you're my guardian angel, we can't. What if ..."

Moving his finger over to your lips, he shushed you.

"I'm in love with you. I know it may be far too soon for a human, but I've loved you since the moment Seungkwan assigned me to you."

"Who- who's Seungkwan?"

He chuckled, recalling that he hadn't told you too much about Heaven so far.

"He's my friend back in Heaven. I'll tell you more about him someday, okay, pretty?", his hand left your lips in favor of caressing your cheek, holding its round form against his palm as his thumb rubbed softly at it.

"Don't you wanna go back to your friends? What about when you have to leave me? What ... What will I do if I start feeling the same for you?", you asked sadly.

"I'll see them again, baby, don't worry. And I'll never leave you," he got closer, wrapping his arms around your waist as he leaned closer to you.

"But, Jeongha-"

"Shhh," this time it was his lips shushing you rather than his finger, "It's okay. You don't have to worry about anything. Just ... Show me. Teach me, yeah, angel?"

Closing the gap, he kissed you, soft and angelic as he did so.

You fell into the kiss quite quickly, using your own hands to play with his hair as your lips touched.

Jeonghan had never kissed anyone before. He could've at some point or another, but he had just never felt anything for any other angel before. The first time he ever experienced such feelings had been as he watched you through that sphere, thinking you the prettiest soul in all of existence.

He had thought of kissing you many times, but the actual act was better than any imagination he could conjure. You weren't shy in your desire for him, quickly taking control as your expert lips danced against his own. While he started off shy, he attempted to match your pace and expertise, licking at your tongue in the same way you did his own. Anything you did that got his eyes rolling back, he did in return, wanting you to experience the same sensations you were giving him.

"Hannie ...", you pulled away with a struggle as Jeonghan's lips attempted to follow your own, "Let me ... Let me take you to bed," you held onto his hand without waiting for a response, walking him to the room you'd been sharing these past months.

Jeonghan was surprised at whatever had taken over you after your kiss as you pushed him onto your bed upon walking into your room. He had no complaints, though, allowing himself to be maleable to everything you might to do him.

His desire took full control of his body as it worked against him, hips canting up towards your own with no finesse whatsoever, hands feeling up every inch of your body in an animalistic manner. For once in his life, Jeonghan was imperfect in his actions.

This proved to be no issue for you, though, as you moaned all the louder at his sheer desperation for you.

After making out for a good while, you disconnected once more, hands on his shoulders as you hovered over him.

"What do you wanna know, Hannie? What should I teach you?", you asked against his lips.

Without a response, his hips continued grinding up against your own, his hands aiding him as he pushed your hips down towards his crotch. He was fully out of it, his body taking a mind of its own. It was a bit embarrassing how clearly desperate he felt.

"Can I- Fuck, can I fuck you? I'll know what to do, I promise. Just wanna take care of you," he whispered back. And he was sure of it. He knew his body would show him what to do; how to take care of you as he discovered the pleasure your bodies could bring.

"Yes, Hannie. Anything you want."

So he flipped you over, laying you down beneath him as his hands slipped under your pajama top, feeling the soft skin underneath. Asking for permission before removing it, his hands lifted it up and threw it to the side, eyes never leaving your torso as you revealed yourself to him. He repeated this process with your sleeping shorts, leaving you fully nude apart from a pretty pair of white panties you were donning.

Just as expected, you were the prettiest sight he had ever beheld. Despite being an angel himself, he truly thought you to be the most angelic thing he would ever get to hold in his arms.

His hands touched and caressed every inch of bare skin, drawing goosebumps across every part of you he made contact with. Your soft gasps as he toyed with your nipples had him reeling. The pretty whines you let out when he wrapped his lips around your nipples and kitten licked at them sent him on a frenzy.

The more he touched, the crazier he felt. His hips had begun grinding down against your own the moment he got you under him, leading to a constant stream of pleasure as he explored your body with his hands and lips.

"You're the prettiest thing I've ever seen ..." he mumbled while his lips made their way up from your tits to your neck, nibbling at your skin every so often, "Came all the way from Heaven just for you, my pretty angel."

He could tell you were growing more and more desperate by the second, something which he understood. Unsure of how much longer he could take without feeling your bare skin against his own, he undressed himself and discarded your panties, groaning at the slickness that connected your panties to your cunt. Hovering over you once again, he couldn't help but feel sheepish at the way your eyes scanned every inch of his bare skin, practically salivating at the sight of him.

Your hands went up to toy with him, feeling him up in a similar fashion as he had done to you. His nipples were tweaked with, causing a high-pitched whine to leave him. Then your hands went to his aching cock, which was the final blow he needed before thoroughly losing his mind.

As much as he wanted to be the one in charge and the one to take care of you, you had him at the palm of your hand the moment you touched him.

"A-angel," he gasped as you began playing with his cock.

"Hannie ... Let me take care of you? I'll teach you everything, just ... Fuck, you're so pretty, Hannie. Such a pretty angel," you repositioned the two of you as you said this, hypnotizing him into following your directions as you toyed with him.

Once again, you were above him, leaning down for one last wet kiss before crawling your way down his body, resting on your knees before him.

Kissing up and down his thighs, you mumbled praises at him all throughout. Jeonghan felt weightless under you, like he was floating as you shamelessly expressed your lust for him. He truly thought he felt the most extreme ends of pleasure while you kissed and licked and sucked at his thighs, but he was fully unprepared for the moment your lips arrived to his cock.

Fuck.

In all his years in Heaven, he had never felt such bliss. Your warm lips wrapped around his cock as you took him deeper and deeper, bobbing your head as you suckled at him. His eyes rolled back and his back arched against the bed, whining endlessly at the feeling.

You worshiped him like a god, making him feel like the most powerful entity to ever exist. He was reaching heights he didn't know possible. How had he lived his entire life without ever feeling such lust? Specially when said lust was being rewarded by the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

"Angel ...", be breathed out, fingers wrapping around your hair, "Please .."

You gave him a nod in confirmation, not needing a verbal warning before he started grinding his hips against your mouth. He was mindful of the pace, allowing his body take control as he tried to reach his high.

Jeonghan kept at it for a while, slowly grinding his cock into the warm hole that your mouth offered him. He was entirely gone, not even aware of how desperate his movements were beginning to become.

"Are you gonna cum, Hannie?" you mumbled as you disconnected from him to catch some air, continuing your ministrations in the form of licking at the veins on the side of his cock.

He nodded in confirmation, eyes furrowed and unable to speak anything that wasn't a high pitched whine, "P-please, I ... Fuck, oh fuck- Yes! Keep- Fuck!"

Just as he attempted to respond to you, you put him back in your mouth without warning, suctioning as you hollowed your mouth and went as deep as you possibly could. Had he had time to process the act a bit better, he would've claimed you a minx for making him lose his mind so suddenly, but his pleasure completely overtook every other though.

Jeonghan whined and writhed on the bed, back arching into the perfect slope as his high reached its crescendo.

You only gave him a few seconds to recover before pulling him out of your mouth with a sweet kiss to weeping his tip, climbing up his body to fondle his tongue with yours. Despite his exhaustion and lack of breath, he couldn't deny any intimacy from you, so he kissed you with all he had. He kissed you with all the passion left in him, silently thanking you for the otherworldly pleasure you had given him.

"Need to fuck you," he whimpered against your lips. He could feel your dripping cunt lying directly atop his cock, mixing both your juices on the surface of his stomach.

You disconnected from him with a gasp, looking down and seeing his cock already hard again.

"You're already hard?", you looked puzzled as you asked.

"Yeah," he said as if it were the most obvious thing, "You literally made me discover the concept of lust, of course I'm hard."

You stuttered shyly at his statement, making him chuckle before you continued, "Do you not need time to recover? I-"

"Baby, I'm an angel. I don't need anything but your cunt wrapped around me," he spoke in words likely never spoken by an angel before.

Blushing again, you grumbled at him to shut up and did just so by kissing him again.

Jeonghan couldn't imagine not wanting you time and time again – even if he were a human. He was entirely certain that any man would defy human nature to harden for you over and over just to feel the pleasure your pretty body could give.

Luckily he didn't have to worry about that as you ground your bare cunt against his cock, reaching an angle that had you crying against his lips and him writhing under you, hands squeezing every curve he could reach.

"Gonna sit on you, okay, angel?", you whispered against his lips, licking at them as you pulled away.

You got up, positioning his cock against your cunt. His anticipation was at an all time high, entirely too desperate to feel the warm home that laid between your legs. But of course, before he could find his way home, you rubbed his tip against your cunt, making his head throw back in frustration.

His hands took action on their own, slapping your own away and positioning yourself so that you would finally sink down on him, giving him access to the greatest heaven of all.

There weren't enough words for Jeonghan to understand the myriad of sensations cruising through his body. His nerve endings were on fire, while his body writhed and arched uncontrollably. His body seemed to have a mind of its own, holding you against him as he canted his hips upwards at the most pleasurable rhythm his body could find.

The beautiful sight above him did not help matters.

Through your time together, Jeonghan had seen you in every state possible, having spent every waking moment by your side. Yet nothing could compare to you now. Your sweaty skin, shinning under the bedroom light as your tits bounced up and down. Your expression revealed one of utmost pleasure, eyebrows furrowed and eyes almost crossed in ecstasy. Jeonghan couldn't look away, despite how harsh of an effect your beautiful form had on him.

Jeonghan knew sex between angels was a thing. He knew it differed from human customs in many ways, yet he had never partaken in it. Not once had he ever felt lust or excitement at the thought of another angel. You had been the one to wake him up to this brand new realm of pleasure. You were the one bringing him to Nirvana with every touch.

And every sound too.

"H-Hannie ... So good, fuck. L-love your cock. It's so pretty 'n so fucking good ... It's all for me, right. Right, Hannie?", you breathed out between breaths of exhilaration, "My pretty cock, just for me."

He was yours. His existence orbited around you. Heart, body, mind, it was all for you.

Fuck, how could he ever go back to Heaven now?

There was no time to think about such things now; no time for any rational thinking as your hands came down to pull at his nipples, whimpering to him that your high was on the way, and that you needed him to get there with you.

"With you ... I'm gonna cum, just- fuck. Kiss me. Please ... Need you to kiss me-"

Moments later and his lips were trapped between yours, relishing on the feeling of your tongue dancing with his own. Your bodies were in perfect coordination, with the both of you receiving nothing but never ending pleasure.

Your high found you first, triggering his own as his hips went on a frenzy against yours, attempting to milk out every second of his orgasm.

The aftermath was two limp bodies lying against each other, eventually finding a way to cuddle and caress the other with all the love your souls allowed you to give.

Jeonghan laid there, the most content he had ever been. Your time together had proved to be the happiest of his life, but nothing compared to having such an intimate connection with the girl he knew was the love of his life – this one and the next.

Just as Jeonghan was about to verbally voice his feelings for you as he had done time and time again since meeting you, you interrupted him with your own confession.

"I love you," you said as you nuzzled yourself against his chest, "Please never leave me."

Your voice sounded sad, making Jeonghan frown before masking his worry with a smile, choosing instead to bask in your reciprocation of his feelings.

"I can never leave. I love you too much."

One more month passed like this, with nothing but bliss between you and Jeonghan.

By now, Jeonghan was an integral part of your life. Not only was he now close with all your friends, but he had been promoted to the role of your boyfriend, sticking his tongue out at Mingyu any time he'd joke about you replacing him.

The two of you slept together regularly, finessing the art of your physical love to an extent Jeonghan was sure was incomparable.

It had been a total of four months by now, and Jeonghan was nothing less than enamored with his current life. He missed his friends dearly, wishing he had some way to communicate all his happiness to them, maybe hear about their own happy happenings in Heaven. But this was a sadness he needed to push aside in favor of enjoying the unknown time he had left with you.

His doubts about Heaven did not last long, however.

One sleepless night, Jeonghan was distracted by a higher power calling to him. He was surprised at the feeling of sleeplessness, seeing as he did not need sleep as an angel. This was new.

Pushing such thoughts aside, Jeonghan followed the voice in his head, telling him to meet them in the living room. As carefully as he could, he detangled himself from you, heading to the living room in curiosity.

That's where his emotions truly took over.

Standing in your living room was none other than a beautiful angel donning the classic white gown – it was Boo Seungkwan, Jeonghan's best friend and confidant.

Without a single word, the friends held ran to each other, holding one another in a tight embrace. Their didn't need to verbalize how much they'd need each other, the hug said it all.

"Kwan, what are you doing here?", Jeonghan chuckled incredulously.

"The angel council is pissed at you man," he started, "You slept with your human, really? No, wait. You've been sleeping with your human!," he whisper-shouted, well aware that said human was in the other room sleeping.

There was no use in fabricating some type of ruse. Jeonghan was proud and honest about his feelings as he explained the happenings of the past few months, letting Seungkwan in on how hard and fast he had fallen for you, and how you had done so in return.

Surprisingly to Jeonghan, Seungkwan's reaction wasn't to reprimand him. Rather, he chuckled amusedly before responding.

"You know, we all expected it. We had a bet going to see how long it took you to officially get together."

"Y-you've been watching us?!"

"Hey! You're practically human now. Someone had to be watching over you. Not my fault Jihoon thought me the man for the job."

Jeonghan grumbled despite feeling glad at knowing his friend had had his back this whole time, never truly leaving him to be on his own.

"I'm here with news," the tone shifted, "I ... The council has given you an option."

Seungkwan paused for a moment before continuing.

"As the time passes away from Heaven, angels begin to lose their powers. They eventually regress to the state of humans," he explained, taking a breath, "If you ... If you choose to stay, you will become fully human within a year, and then you will age accordingly."

"I- I get to choose? That's a thing?"

"You're not the only fallen angel, Jeonghan," Seungkwan explained, "Jihoon was one once too."

"He ..? What?"

"The reason he never exiled you was because he wanted you to find your way here on your own. Like he once did. He, like you, fell in love with his human and descended. All angels have that option, they just need to want it. Most angels find happiness in Heaven alone, like me. But others need to live through all cycles of life to find their own bliss. I'm happy that you found your own."

Seungkwan chuckled at Jeonghan's wordlessness, a sight he probably had never seen before.

"The council sent me here to give you an ultimatum. You've blended here well. They want the choice to be yours."

Jeonghan couldn't believe his friend. He could stay and live out his life as human? With you? But then he remembered something.

"Wait. What about ... Will I ever see you guys again?"

Once again, Seungkwan chuckled at this.

"As long as you behave and live out your life dutifully, you'll end up in Heaven once more. This time with your human by your side."

That sounded like an awfully long time without seeing his friends. But it also meant a lifetime with you, followed by another one.

"Don't worry. I know you've gotten used to Earth, but time in Heaven passes so much quicker. In my time, you've only been gone for a week. I'll see you in a few months," Kwan assured his friend.

Even if he didn't express it while in Heaven, Jeonghan would miss all the people he loved. He was happy to know his absence wouldn't be felt, knowing that you'd also help him fill the hole he'd feel at missing his friends. Looking forward to reuniting with them would also help him not miss them too much.

Seungkwan watched him think with a smile, "I take it you've made your choice?"

He hesitated for a moment, but ultimately nodded, "Yeah," he breathed out, "I'll stay."

Seungkwan nodded back, "I'm happy for you, Han. I'll see you soon."

With one last hug signifying goodbye, Seungkwan made his exit, leaving his friend behind to his choice.

Feeling a bit solemn, Jeonghan made his way back to your room, tangling himself up in your sheets once more as he seeked your comfort.

His shuffling woke you up, making you flip to face him and inquire if anything was wrong. Your arms wrapped around his form sleepily, cuddling further into him.

"I'll stay," Jeonghan said, breaking the silence.

"Hmm?", you looked to him in confusion.

"The council got back to me. I can stay," he said with a smile in his voice.

There was immediate worry in your eyes, surprising Jeonghan, "Jeonghan, I- I know I wanted you to stay, but you can't. What about your friends? Your life?"

He chuckled silently, bringing his hand up to caress your cheek as he loved to do, "I'll see them again, angel, don't worry", he explained, "and next time I'll bring you along with me."

He decided to save the explanation for another time, currently too happy to function at the thought of the long life that awaited him. The thought of reuniting with his friends with you by his side also made its way into his mind, making his chest tighten with contentment.

a/n: in my little headcanon y/n, jeonghan and all their friends live long and fulfilling lives and end up in heaven with the rest of angel-svt<3

to read short 2.2k word continuation you can go join my monthly tier on kofi or patreon!

content: established relationship, goes back and forth between jh's pov and reader's pov, jh wakes her up for sex, penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), body worship, depraved!jeonghan, etc.

wc: 486 (teaser); 2291 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

After just a few more months of staying on Earth, Jeonghan had finally fully lost his angel powers, and with them, his essence as an angel also went away.

For any other angel, this would've been bad news, but Jeonghan was excited for this change. Okay, maybe he had been a little anxious about it, but after constant reassurance from Seungkwan and the council that he would get to come back to Heaven once he fulfilled his human life, he felt quite at ease. As one last goodbye, he had been allowed one last visit to Heaven, which he spent raving about you to all his friends. Apparently his months-long absence had only been a mere week in Heaven. This also reassured Jeonghan, now knowing that his friends wouldn't miss him too much while he was busy growing old with you.

And you were the best part of it all.

Your day to day remained quite similar. The two of you were a well established couple by now, which to Jeonghan meant that this was only the beginning of eternity with you.

However, even after being on Earth for quite a while, he was barely beginning to truly understand what being a human was like. He could now feel every human emotion to its fullest extent. He could feel pain, sorrow, anxiety. But, he could also feel all the positive emotions – happiness, excitement, and his favorite, horniness.

You had been his awakening to lust back when he first met you, but now emotions felt all the more intense. Without his angel powers, he felt everything to the extent every human would. He believed that his previous lust for you was the most invigorating it could possibly get, but he was swiftly proven wrong when his angel essence fully left him.

Jeonghan's discovery of lust (and sex in general) gave him the libido of a perverted man.

Every morning, you'd wake up with a huge boner pressed up against you. Not only that, but Jeonghan would purposely grind against you like a dog in heat, far too horny to hold back.

When Jeonghan began to feel these heightened human emotions, the two of you had agreed that it'd be okay if Jeonghan woke you up to take care of him. The sex with the angel was more than ethereal, so you saw no downside to it. However, you hadn't expected just how horny Jeonghan would be once his human form fully took over. You'd fuck every day, sometimes even twice a day.

Even now, after having fallen asleep immediately after riding Jeonghan to completion, the first thing you felt upon waking up was a hardness against your ass, bumping against you with a pathetic desperation.

You considered pretending to still be asleep, but ultimately decided that it'd be more fun to mess with Jeonghan a little. He was always so pretty when he got desperate for you, so what could really be the harm in it?

...

find the 18+ continuation on kofi or patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

[d4yl1ghts]

Hi could I request a story where Anthony is away on business and his wife has a miscarriage while he’s gone

guilt

anthony bridgerton x pregnant, wife, fem!reader

summary: anthony is away for business and you unexpectedly lose your child

warnings: miscarriage, death, pregnancy, self-blame, panic attack

-

You groaned as you awoke to an empty bed again. Anthony was away for business and he had tried to stay home but it was required for him to go. He never usually wanted to leave you but he was especially adamant now as you were with child.

You slowly rolled out of bed and dressed into your undergarments as you awaited the arrival of your maid. She came and aided you into your outfit of the day. It was a deep blue, elegant yet simple dress as blue was your husband’s family’s signature colour. “Thank you, Harriet.”, you dismissed your maid.

As the Viscountess, you lived in Anthony’s childhood manor and so Violet and his siblings still lived there. You didn’t mind it, in fact you rather enjoyed it because you would be intensely lonely right now. Outside your door, you could hear the laughter of his younger siblings. You sighed contentedly as you imagined your baby that would be born in around sixteen weeks.

Suddenly, Violet pushed open your door. “Y/N, how are you feeling today? How’s the baby?”, she greeted. It was tradition for her to check up on you every day now that Anthony was away. “The baby is fine. Have you heard from Anthony?”, you questioned, changing the subject. “No. I’m sure he’ll be back soon, dear.”, she took your hand in hers. You attempted to smile but it came out as more of a grimace.

“Well, I’ll head down, breakfast is ready so come down whenever you want.”, Violet smiled politely as she left the room. You sighed to yourself as you were left alone again.

After five minutes of staring at the ceiling and simply thinking, you decided to go down for breakfast. You noticed that all of the Bridgertons were already there but you couldn’t ignore the absent seat at the end of the table where Anthony would sit. You sat down and quickly ate your food before dismissing yourself. You were thankful that you had entered the time of your pregnancy where morning sickness was not present.

You grabbed a book from your room and got comfortable on the sofa in the living room. You huffed slightly as you felt a pain coming from your stomach but you just ignored it and continued to read. Francesca and Eloise had also entered the room at some point as Francesca was quietly playing the piano and Eloise was reading like you.

After half an hour since the pain had begun, the discomfort became inescapable, you just couldn’t ignore it. You began wriggling around to try to get into a more comfortable position and Eloise glanced up from her book in curiosity before letting out an immense gasp. Francesca also looked up from the pianoforte and widened her eyes in shock. You stared in confusion between them. “I’ll get mama.”, Francesca hurried off. “What is wrong, Eloise?”, you asked timidly. “You’re kind of…”, she just pointed down. You looked down at your dress and only then recognised the stain of blood. You worriedly cast a glance to Eloise.

“Shit.”, you muttered as tears welled in your eyes. Your breathing rate and heart rate picked up increasingly. “Okay, don’t freak out. That’s not good.”, Eloise stated, unaware of what to do in such a situation. Finally, Violet arrived with Colin and Francesca in tow. “I have sent Benedict for the doctor.”, she simply said. She then glanced down at your panicked form with an expression of pity. “It will be okay, Y/N. The doctor will be here soon.”, she eased your worries. You silently cried to yourself. The only person you wanted was Anthony.

Violet sat beside you, hoping her presence would bring you some sort of comfort. She wanted to give you some space. Colin kept checking the corridors for Benedict and the sign of a doctor whilst Francesca and Eloise watched silently from the side. They all had saddening looks in their eyes.

Benedict finally returned as the doctor came rushing in. Violet stepped up out of the as she took your sweaty hand, trying to console you. “Colin, would you write a letter to Anthony, please? Make sure it gets there as soon as possible.”, Violet whispered. The doctor measured the baby’s heartbeat and confirmed what everyone had been dreading: there was no heartbeat- the baby was gone. You instantly broke down into more tears.

Gregory and Hyacinth heard your sobs from where they were located outside the living room door. Benedict made sure they weren’t allowed in. Violet had been containing herself, she didn’t want to be all up in your face but she needed to cradle you in her arms for her own personal comfort. She couldn’t bear the thought of you going through it alone, without your husband by your side. She could almost relate to you.

It had been three days since the incident and also three days since Colin had sent Anthony the letter. You were currently lying on your side, staring out the window. It was what seemed to preoccupy your time nowadays. You only left your room to eat and you would eat very little. Of course the Bridgerton siblings offered their help but it was only one of the siblings you wanted.

You sighed as you turned to your door as you heard a knock. “Who is it?”, you uttered with a shaky and croaky voice. Nobody responded yet the door creaked open slightly and you saw the brown eyes you had been hoping for each time someone knocked on your door. Instead of running towards him as one would have expected, you simply sat there.

Anthony stared at you before cautiously and hesitantly taking a seat beside you. He carefully took you into his steady arms and cradled you like a baby. It was almost ironic. As soon as you felt his skin on yours, water cascaded down your irritated cheeks. He gazed at you sadly before allowing himself to cry with you. He hadn’t been able to grieve yet as he rushed over to comfort you as soon as he received the letter.

“It’ll be okay, Y/N. I love you so much.”, he hushed you. “Tony… I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened.”, more tears slid down your face. Anthony gently held your face in his calloused hands. “Y/N, I did not simply marry you for the sake of bearing my children. I love you because of who you are. I do not care what happens in the future or what has happened in the past. I need you. Never in my entire life would I think of or even fathom a life without you. I don’t know who I would be without you. You are the lighthouse to my boat, my love.”, he confessed.

Anthony suddenly moved away. “I should not have left you.”, he mumbled as his breathing picked up. “It’s my fault. If I had been here to protect you, you would not be suffering so much, Y/N.”, he rushed. You recognised it as a panic attack. He sometimes got them as a result of his father’s death. You knew how much he struggled with self-blame. “Anthony, it is not your fault. You could have never have known.”, you whispered as you kissed his ear. “It is my body.”, you said quietly.

Anthony then pressed a kiss to your temple and then a lingering one to your lips in which conveyed the meaning and honesty behind his words. You knew that with him by your side, you would be okay. “I love you.”, you simply replied, unable to put your thoughts into words. You placed your forehead against his, getting consolation from his touch.

[winterarmyy]

Sleepy Heads

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: That time when the reader accidentally fell asleep on a stranger’s shoulder in the subway ride home. The stranger in question, however, is none other than the former Winter Soldier, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.

Words: 1.4k++

Pairing: tfatws!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: none? just a really short fluffy moment with bucky.

Inspiration: Commuting home via train after long day of work makes me wish i had a shoulder to lean on while on the journey. And so, this idea was born from that thought.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N’s gaze was empty, staring to the distance, seemingly being swallowed by the void within her headspace. She had another long day at work; like any other weekday, grinding through the endless lines of words for each of her client’s documents until her eyes blurred.

The platform was noisy, filled with the clamour of people, the distant roar of the approaching train, and the faint buzz of conversations. The lights above her head flicker occasionally, casting brief shadows that danced along the walls. 

The subway ride home was her daily ritual, one she usually endured standing among the crowded commuters. When she saw the train coming her way, relief washed over her. “Finally, I can go home,” she thought.

The doors slid open, and she was immediately pushed by the crowd behind her. It was as if her feet were lifted in the air, her body was effortlessly being dragged into the train. Since it  was rush hour, the train car was packed. She had expected that but still, she couldn’t help but to let out a long sigh of exhaustion.

She slipped and weaved through the mass of bodies, knowing that it’ll be pointless. There’s no way she could get a seat now; she had to endure the 40 minute ride standing on the ache of her feet. 

Her thoughts immediately stopped when she unexpectedly found an empty row of seats. Well, to be fair, there was one man sitting there, but regardless, it was empty enough for her to sit.

How fortunate she was.

A passing thought echoed in her head, questioning why it was empty, but she was too tired to think too deeply about it. The exhaustion from the long hours at work had dulled her curiosity, leaving her with just enough energy to be grateful for the peace and quiet. Too exhausted to question her luck, she sank into the seat, letting out a sigh of gratitude.

As she settled in, her mind couldn’t help but to dwell on the earlier question. Why does no one want to sit next to this man? She briefly considered the possibility that he might be a weird pervert or something. Thinking about it now made her slightly uncomfortable.

However, that discomfort didn’t last long as she overheard whispers around her, saying how brave she was to sit next to the Winter Soldier. Her eyes widened in realisation, and she discreetly glanced at him, noticing the telltale signs she had missed in her exhaustion: the gloved hands, the intense expression, the aura of danger that surrounded him. 

She had heard of him. James Buchanan Barnes. 

She studied about him in history class back when she was a school girl and saw him on the news in recent years. A member of the Howling Commandos. Steve Roger’s best friend. The Winter Soldier. The victim of Hydra’s atrocities.

Perhaps it was the fatigue numbing her instincts, or maybe it was the hint of vulnerability in his eyes that contradicted the ruthless image painted by the stories. Surprisingly, there was a burning sensation in her chest the more she heard the foul whispers around her. “These people really need to shut their mouths or…”  She didn’t finish the thought.

Honestly, she was too tired to care if the man next to her was the Winter Soldier or Captain America himself. She was simply grateful that he wasn’t some sort of creepy pervert.

Next to her sat a lone man, his posture tense and his gaze averted. James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier, was accustomed to people avoiding him, their fear and whispers a constant reminder of his past. Today was no different, until Y/N sat down next to him without a second thought.

There were very few people who willingly sat this close to him: Sam, Mr. Nakajima, and perhaps his therapist. Strangers who were aware of him would never sit near him willingly. So when he saw her making a beeline towards him, he thought, “No way…” 

Now, he couldn’t help but be aware of her presence. 

Bucky straightened, expecting her to move away once she realised who he was. But she didn’t. She just sat there, her head lolling slightly as she fought to stay awake.

Bucky stole glances at her, noting the dark circles under her eyes and the way she seemed to radiate exhaustion . He noticed how her weary seemed to mirror his own, although for completely different reasons; hers from long hours of work, his from long hours of sleepless nights. 

Despite her weariness, there was a quiet beauty about her that captivated him.

His eyes widened in realisation that he’d been staring at her. He noticed the concerned looks of the people around them as they caught him, their thoughts clear on their faces.

He chastised himself for staring. “Stop it, Bucky. You’re being a creep.” But he couldn’t help it. When her head finally drooped and she fell asleep, he felt a pang of concern.

“Where’s her stop?” 

“What if she misses it?”  

“What if someone tries to take advantage of her while she’s sleeping?”

As the train jolted, her head swayed dangerously close to the pole beside her. Instinctively, Bucky’s metal arm shot out, catching her head before it hit. She didn’t stir, her breathing steady and soft; he could feel how close her body was to his own.

Bucky froze, his body tensing as he tried to process the situation. His eyes widened; he didn’t know why but he felt his heart racing in his chest. 

Before he could fully comprehend what was happening, her head lolled to the opposite side, landing gently on his shoulder. He felt a surge of panic, his breath hitching, but then she snuggled closer, her hands roamed along his right hand until her arms wrapped around his like he was a pillow. 

Bucky’s heart continued to race, violently.

He felt a blush creeping up his neck, his eyes widening in surprise. His fists balled up into tight, clenched knots as he felt the softness of her breasts gently squishing his biceps in between them. “Oh god, what do I do now?” he panicked.

But time passed, feeling her steady heartbeat and the warmth of her body pressed against him, he found himself relaxing. 

He began to notice the faint scent of vanilla that clung to her, a soft contrast to the sterile, metallic smell he had grown used to. Her breathing, initially steady, became slower and deeper; a rhythmic sound that somehow soothed his frayed nerves. He could see the faint traces of paper cuts on her fingers, remnants of a long day at work.

Despite her obvious fatigue, there was a certain grace in the way she moved, a gentle determination that intrigued him. Her soft, steady breathing started to sync with his own, creating a strange sense of calm that he hadn't felt in a long time. He admired the delicate curve of her eyelashes, the way her lips parted slightly as she went deeper into slumber. 

This simple act of trust, falling asleep next to him, a man feared by so many, stirred something deep within him. It was a small, fleeting moment of normalcy that he found himself cherishing against his better judgement.

He relaxed into the seat, allowing himself to savour the unexpected comfort of her presence and touch. He decided to let her sleep. As the time passed, the crowd around them began to lessen.

The previously hostile atmosphere of the train car softened, and the once frenetic energy of the rush hour turned into a more subdued, calming environment. The stares and whispers faded into the background as Bucky's attention became entirely focused on the woman resting beside him.

His own fatigue began to catch up with him, his eyes grew heavy, a rare sensation for him these days. And before he knew it, his cheek was resting gently against her head, and he was drifting off too. His plans and destination were long forgotten, overshadowed by the soothing presence of the woman clinging to his arm. 

He didn't mind if they both missed their stop; the thought of walking her home crossed his mind. Maybe he could introduce himself properly, maybe ask her out on a date, and see if she wouldn’t mind spending more time with him.

The idea, though fleeting, brought a sense of warmth and contentment he hadn’t felt in years. When his consciousness drifted further into the dreamland, a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his heart lighter than it had been in a long time.

And in the end, as the train continued its journey, people left the sleepy heads in their peaceful slumber, content in the rare moment of tranquility they had found together. End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for reading this very short drabble! Hope you enjoyed it ♡

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Ūbnon (anticipation)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x twin sister!reader Warnings: Incest, dirty talk, heavy petting, female masturbation. Word count: ~3k

Summary: Soon to be married to her twin brother, Aemond, she grows nervous at the prospect of what is to come on their wedding night, and decides to educate herself. To her embarrassment, and eventual delight, her brother catches her in the act.

Author's note: For @asa-do-your-thing. Based on this request. No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

Born just minutes apart, she has been bound to Aemond since birth. He is her twin, her other half, their kinship as natural to her as the simple act of drawing breath. Their betrothal is a matter that was decided upon long before either of them had the faculties to truly comprehend the implications, but it is one she readily accepts. It is a means to strengthen their family, to prolong the Targaryen lineage, to provide heirs when the legitimacy of her half sister Rhaenyra’s offspring is called into question.

The full weight of what that means for both of them is not one she ever ponders, it is simply a duty she must perform. But as she grows older, blossoming into a woman, and watches Aemond develop into a man, her mind drifts to the implications of marriage and the duties she will be expected to perform as not just a sister, but as a wife.

She is no stranger to pleasure, her hand has often drifted between her thighs on nights that sleep evades her, drawing out a pulsating ache from which warmth writhes in her lower belly and spreads through her limbs until she is left feeling weightless and spent.

However, she is unsure of how she could ever replicate such a feeling with a man, her twin brother no less, rutting atop her. She has learned the physicality of it from her septa, and what is described to her both piques her curiosity and frightens her. To have Aemond brutalise her body in such a manner makes her fear for the pain it may cause her, but her thoughts also race with the possibility that it might feel good.

She has tried to broach the subject with Helaena before, hoping to find common ground, considering she is married to their eldest brother, Aegon, and they have three children together. However, upon the mere mention of the subject, Helaena had blinked rapidly, her brow furrowing, and clamped her hands over her ears as she turned away from her. It was a clear indication that she did not want to talk of it, so she did not broach the topic again. It made dread gnaw at her insides. Could it really be that bad?

She supposes Helaena is not as fortunate as she is; Aegon is drunk where Aemond is stoic, he is brutish and unkind, where Aemond is soft and understanding, at least to his mother and sisters. She is not oblivious to the darker side of her twin, she knows him inside and out; he has a sharp tongue and a proclivity for explosive anger, though neither are ever directed towards her. She wonders if that will change once she is his wife and more is expected of her. What if she is a disappointment to him on their wedding night and his attitude towards her changes? The very idea fills her with worry.

There is time yet, she supposes, and so she pushes the thought from her mind, deciding she will deal with it when a moment presents itself.

But a moment never does present itself, and now the wedding is only a month away.

She hisses, snatching her hand back from her needlepoint, placing the tip of her finger into her mouth to soothe the sudden sting of pain. It is the second time in the span of a quarter of an hour that she has accidentally pricked herself with the needle she holds in the opposite hand, and she is not sure the fruits of her labour are worth the effort of her suffering; the embroidery that sits upon her lap is a mess of loose stitches and frayed threads. Her mind is elsewhere, as much as she wills it to focus on the roses she is attempting to bring to life upon the scrap of cotton.

“You seem distracted today,” her lady in waiting tells her, “is there something the matter?”

She drops her hand into her lap, sighing. There are several women who attend to her at court, but she seldom spends time with any of them, finding them all far too vapid and focused on idle gossip for her taste. Elyse is the only exception. She is discreet, and content to idle the hours away in comfortable silence with her, either reading or sewing. She supposes that if she can confide in anyone regarding her fears for her wedding night and subsequent marital duties, then Elyse is the person she can trust most. She certainly cannot speak to her mother or sister, and definitely not Aemond.

“I am distracted,” she confesses. “The wedding draws closer by the day and I feel anxious for what is to come.”

“Do you not wish to marry Aemond?” Elyse asks, leaning closer, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“It is not that,” she says, shaking her head. “I cannot wait to be his wife, but it is what comes after that that concerns me. I am worried it will hurt. I want to find pleasure in the act, to not simply lay there passively and be a witness but not a participant to the loss of my virtue. Does that sound terrible?”

“Not at all,” Elyse reassures her, “you can and you should find pleasure in being intimate with your husband.”

“You make it sound so easy,” she scoffs. “I do not know how.”

“You could try speaking to Aemond about it? It may ease your mind a little.”

She balks at the idea, feeling her cheeks heat up. “That is not an option. I think he would sooner put out his other eye than debase himself to such a conversation.”

“Hmm. Perhaps a visit to the library is in order then.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lady Coryanne Wylde wrote a book, A Caution for Young Girls. It is an autobiographical account of her life as handmaid to a queen, the paramour of a young knight, a camp follower in the Disputed Lands, a serving wench in Myr, a mummer in Tyrosh, the plaything of a corsair queen in the Basilisk Isles, a slave in Volantis, the handmaid of a Qartheen warlock, the mistress of a pleasure house in Lys and ultimately a septa in the Starry Sept of Oldtown, where she sets down the story of her life as a warning to young maids.”

“If it is meant as a warning then how will I seek any comfort within its pages?”

Elyse laughs softly. “Believe me, I think what you will find within its pages is most…illuminating.”

She waits until nightfall, when she is sure everyone in the Keep will be asleep, before making her way to the library. Having thought of nothing else but the book that Elyse had mentioned earlier that day, she is eager to read it, but does not wish to be caught doing so.

Pulling her robe tighter around herself, to keep the chill of the air from permeating the thin cotton of her nightgown, her slippered feet pad softly through the winding corridors of the castle as she makes her way from her quarters to the library, a candle lighting her way. She is relieved to find the library dark and empty as she enters, the comforting scent of aged books calming her unsettled nerves as her heart hammers rapidly in her chest.

Using her candle to light the lamps on each of the tables, the subtle illumination helps to guide her as she walks the length of the room, eyes scanning the bookcases for the title she searches for. The spines of the various historical accounts and philosophical texts are all weathered with use, doubtless Aemond’s doing, and for a moment she wonders if such a scandalous book would even be kept within the library of the Red Keep. She cannot imagine such salacious text being housed alongside educational resources.

Making her way through the shelves containing volumes on botany, medicine and anatomy, she finally finds what she is looking for, tucked away on the end of a tightly packed shelf in the furthest corner of the library.

Reaching up with shaky hands, she frees the book from its cramped confines, surprised by the size and weight of it, and quickly makes her way over to the nearest table, nervously scanning the room to ensure no one has crept in after her to catch her in the act, before sitting down to read.

Her lips part, eyes widening as she reads, fingers delicately turning each page as she finishes it. She feels her skin grow hot as her pulse races and her breath quickens, shame washing over her at the relentless throbbing in her core as she loses herself in seedy tales of Lady Wylde being brought to peak at the lips and tongue of a man, and how she had chased her pleasure once more by wrapping her legs tighter around his waist as he had thrust into her.

She clamps her legs tighter together at the stickiness that gathers between her thighs, wondering how it would feel to have Aemond’s lips upon her breasts, to watch his tongue delve between her folds, to feel his fingers imprint upon her flesh as he buries himself to the hilt inside of her. Does he crave such things too? It makes her giddy with excitement for their wedding night, so that she may find out.

“You should be sleeping, dōnus hāedus.” [Sweet sister.]

Aemond’s voice causes her to freeze. So absorbed in her reading, she had not heard him enter. Her heart lurches and she swallows thickly, before looking up to meet his steely gaze as he stares down at her. His hair is loose, spilling iridescently over his shoulders, and his sapphire eye glimmers subtly in the low lighting. In a loose undershirt and breeches, he is clearly ready for bed himself.

“I–I could not find rest, so I came to the library to read,” she says quietly.

“And what are you reading?” He asks, cocking his head slightly.

She inhales shakily, placing her forearms over the pages of the book as it rests on the table, a feeble attempt to hide its contents from her twin. “It would bore you, it does not matter.”

“I do not think that is true, it must be an interesting book to have you in such a flustered state. I suspect you are lying to me. Skoros otāpā, idañītsos?” [What do you think, little twin?]

Lowering her gaze, she says nothing. Embarrassment and shame make her feel as though her skin is ablaze, as he reaches forward, placing his fingers against the edge of the book and sliding it out from underneath her arms, towards himself.

She holds her breath as he reads silently, not daring to look at Aemond as she keeps her eyes fixed on her hands clasped against the tabletop in front of her.

“Hmmm, so you have a taste for depravity,” he finally says.

“No!” Her head snaps up, wide eyed with shock as she protests. “I do not, Aemond, I swear! I–I have been…worried about our wedding night. I wanted to know more about how men and women please each other, so that I would not be a disappointment to you. I did not think anyone would catch me or ever know I had been reading this.”

He rounds the table, standing over her where she sits, and tenderly takes her chin between thumb and forefinger. “Jorrāelītsos, you could never disappoint me.” [Little love.]

She preens at his praise, her gaze softening as she stares up at him.

“But I do think you tell lies,” he continues. “You are my twin, you know me better than anyone, and you know how often sleep evades me, and where I come to when it does; here. I think you wanted me to catch you, to pry out of you the things you are too afraid to say of your own volition.”

“Lēkys…” [Brother.]

“Sit on the table.”

“W–why?!”

“Do as you are told, dōnus mēres. I shall not ask again.” [Sweet one.]

She shivers, scrambling up from her chair to sit on the table’s edge, watching as he pulls out the chair she had previously occupied and seats himself in it.

“Sit further back,” he instructs, “so that your feet can rest upon the table too, then I want you to lift your nightgown and spread your legs for.”

Blinking rapidly, her brows raised in horror, she is afraid she has misheard him. Surely he would never ask something so vulgar of her? And yet when she studies his expression, she finds no trace to suggest he is jesting at her expense. Instead, he inclines his head towards her, a silent gesture of impatience that lets her know it is best not to argue back. So, she complies with his command.

She longs to look away as the cool air of the library touches upon her most intimate of parts, she feels too exposed and painfully embarrassed. Yet when she takes in the subtle dilation of Aemond’s pupil, the way he moistens his lips as he leans ever so slightly forward to get a better look at her, she cannot find it in herself to cast her gaze anywhere but him. She has never seen such hunger or longing in his expression before.

“You are wet,” he states quietly, “did you enjoy what you read?”

Taking her lower lip between her teeth, she gives a small nod, too ashamed to say it aloud, and attempts to close her legs.

“I did not say you could do that, not yet. Keep them open.”

She does as instructed, but when she opens her mouth to speak, Aemond holds up a hand to silence her.

“It is not just you who has been researching, hāedus. I, too, have been reading, and I can see the state of arousal you are in. It is just a pity that it is a book that has made you this way and not I.”

“I was thinking about you as I read…” she whispers.

The faintest of smirks tugs at his lips, his eye lifting from between her thighs to her face. “Were you really? Tell me what you were thinking about me doing.”

She shakes her head furiously, too embarrassed to say, her knees falling together instinctively until she sees Aemond raise an eyebrow, and quickly parts them once more.

He sighs, leaning back, fingertips drumming against the armrests of the chair. “Very well. Then I shall divulge some of my own thoughts, for you have expressed your concerns regarding our bedding, and it would be careless of me as both your twin brother and betrothed if I did not attempt to put your mind at ease.”

This piques her curiosity, and she leans up slightly, resting against her palms, eager to hear what he has to say.

“I have no intention of hurting you on our wedding night,” he tells her, “quite the opposite, actually. I wish to take my time with you, prepare you thoroughly.”

Her breath hitches as she feels a familiar warmth fluttering in her belly. “How?” She whispers.

“I want to taste you. I will lap up the wetness that gathers between your thighs, have you fall apart upon my tongue until you tremble and scream my name.”

She feels herself clench around nothing at his filthy words, her chest rising and falling with a slight shudder at the rapidity of her breaths.

“Only when you are soaked for me will I dare to breach your maidenhead,” he continues. “You have no idea how many times I have spent into my own hand at the thought of how impossibly tight and warm you will feel around me. I long to spill deep inside of you, then watch the way it trickles down your thighs before I do it all over again.”

So desperate with need, she feels lightheaded, she aches for him, and she believes he is about to give her exactly what she needs when he rises from the chair, looming over her as she rests upon the table.

His thumbs run along the inside of her thighs, moving upwards, but missing entirely where she needs him most, instead ascending into the crease where her hip meets her leg.

“Please…please, lēkys, touch me,” she whimpers.

“I am afraid I cannot do that, as much as I yearn to, because once I do I will not be able to control myself, and you will no longer be a maid upon our wedding night.”

She feels so frustrated she could cry, as his hands delicately take the hem of her nightdress and smooth it back down over her legs, before helping her into a seated position. His sense of duty is both Aemond’s best and worst quality.

“I hope I have done what I can to alleviate your fears though, idañītsos.”

She nods, smiling gratefully up at him, despite the dull throbbing that causes her to squirm uncomfortably. “Could I ask one more thing of you, please? Willl…will you kiss me?”

Aemond’s eye softens, cupping her cheek as he leans in to press his lips to her. They are wonderfully soft and warm against her own, and she kisses back eagerly. However, all too soon he is pulling away, chuckling softly as she chases forward with her face, whining at the loss of him.

“Good things come to those who are patient, dōnus mēres,” he utters, resting his forehead against hers, as his fingers stroke the soft skin of her cheek. “Go back to your quarters, and think of me when you touch yourself. You have only a moon’s turn to wait until it is my hand you are falling apart at instead.”

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More Aemond fics

[bumblesimagines]

Curiosities

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Overwhelmed and distraught by his duties and the death of his child, King Aegon decides to indulge in his favorite pastime: visiting the Street of Silk. However, he decides this time, he wants to seek comfort in the one person he's always been curious about.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

TW/CW: Typical GoT warnings, Aegon being Aegon, mentions/implications of child exploitation, mentions of teen-adult relationships, mentions of Targcest/incest, death of a child, sexual content dontttlookatme, (Y/N)/Reader is a brothel worker, potential spoilers for S2, mentioned/implied homophobia (the Faith)

Aegon is a pathetic wet cat of a man (derogatory) but Tom is so pretty

~~~

Aegon hardly remembered the first time he'd visited a brothel.

Perhaps it was the mixture of drinks in his system preventing him from recalling the first time he'd stepped foot in a brothel. He'd been a teenager, he knew that much, and he'd likely paid for the prettiest woman in there. He'd had enough experience messing with the maids around the castle to know what to do and he'd ensured to pay well for the service. But despite not recalling the act itself or even the woman he'd done it with, he vividly recalled the worker who'd caught his eye the second visit. 

It'd been a week or so after the first visit and he'd gone in sober, willing to drink whatever the brothel had in stock until he passed out or was kicked out. He sauntered in with his typical confidence. He was a prince; everyone wanted a taste of him. The other customers in the brothel regarded him with smug smirks and nods of acknowledgment, to which he returned with the same smugness. He'd taken a seat at one of the tables and savored the way workers glided toward him in revealing clothing - or no clothing at all - with coy smiles and flirty coos. His eyes, however, failed to lock on the women flocking to him. 

Across the way, he noticed one of the rooms with the curtains drawn back by a few inches, giving view to the worker and customer inside. A boy around his age, perhaps a year or two older, sat on the bed with his rope drawn back and hanging loosely from his shoulders. A woman had her head on his chest, her eyes shut tight and cheeks stained with tears while her red-colored lips formed words.

The sight would've made him laugh, it was utterly pathetic for a grown woman to cry on the chest of a boy, but his heart lurched longingly when the boy raked his fingers through her hair and gently rocked her. The act looked so... sweet.

"Who is that?" Aegon questioned one of the women settled at his side, hardly paying any mind to the soft stroking of his chest. She tilted her head over her shoulder, searching for what'd caught his attention before she spotted the two. She gave a soft hum and looked back at him, her lips delicately dragging over his cheek and stopping at his ear. 

"That would be (Y/N)," She told him softly, her voice velvety. Her long lashes tickled his skin. "Poor Nora lost her husband to a horrible fever not long ago, My Prince. I hear he looked like (Y/N) in his youth. She seeks comfort, not pleasure." 

"I see," Aegon murmured and finally took a swing of the wine offered to him, waiting for it to settle into his veins before he gave in to the ladies around him. His eyes continued to drag toward (Y/N) throughout his stay. 

Men in brothels were no surprise, not to frequent customers, at least. Some enjoyed the company of men without facing scrutiny, some needed the money, and others were simply raised in the brothel. Throughout his visits to the brothel, Aegon learned it'd been the latter for (Y/N); a boy born in a brothel who simply never left. He found his curiosity spiked with each visit, each time he caught sight of him serving wine or slipping behind the curtain to entertain someone new.

Aegon never approached. It was completely new territory, territory he'd been told by septas and maesters he should never enter. 

It'd only been when his little son and heir died at the order of his older half-sister that he decided he couldn't give a rat's ass about what the Seven thought of him. They'd never given him a time of day, even as the King of Westeros, so why should he care? His son was dead, his sister-wife was a mess, and the Council acted as if it were all a mere inconvenience. 

When he staggered into the brothel that night, everyone stopped their doings to stare at him wide-eyed and silent. Each of them bowed, whether dipping their heads or bending at the waist and watched him as if waiting for him to crack. Aegon hated it. He hated how everyone seemingly viewed him as weak. He was the King, for fuck's sake! The wine and ale swimming through his veins made his senses and emotions heighten, forcing tears to spring to his eyes. 

"Drinks on me!" He hollered into the room, and the crowd within erupted in cheers and whoops, the energy returning to the room tenfold. A laugh tumbled out of his lips and his shoulders straightened, soaking in the gleeful looks and nods sent his way. They loved him now, even if they believed him to be a usurper or not. They loved him.

Aegon took a goblet from a table and drank its contents, feeling the liquid burn his throat and send a shudder up his spine. He set the goblet aside and wiped his lips with the sleeve of his shirt, vibrant eyes searching the room until they spotted the object of his desire. He made a beeline for him, ignoring the ladies who attempted to catch his eye until he stopped by him and grasped his arm a tad roughly. 

"Your Grace?" (Y/N) stumbled slightly with the tug, his grip on the pitcher tightening to avoid spilling any wine. He stared at him, brows lifting and eyes blinking owlishly. Aegon had never seen him up close before, and regret settled in his belly at the realization. What a fool he'd been, letting time pass him by. 

"You're mine for the night," Aegon told him, taking the pitcher from his hands and setting it down at the table he'd been serving. The men there shifted uncomfortably under Aegon's stare, none of them uttering a single word of protest and instead turning their attention onto the other workers around. 

Brothels had unspoken rules. Everything that happened in a brothel, stayed in the brothel. No one spoke a word of what went down or whom they saw within the walls of one, unless they wished for their own secrets and pleasures to be spilled to the public. Of course, Aegon expected his new Master of Whisperers to hear of it by the time he returned to the Red Keep, but he trusted Lord Larys to keep it to himself. 

Without another word, he turned toward the nearest empty room and tugged the curtain open far enough for the two to step inside before tugging it close again. Aegon's heart raced in his chest, be it from the drinks or genuine excitement, he couldn't be sure. He turned to face (Y/N), finding the young man already seated at the edge of the bed watching him. 

"What do you want, Your Grace?" He asked gently, his head tilting to the side while Aegon fumbled to get his clothes off fast enough. He looked enticing in the soft candleglow with his rope pulled apart to show his chest and stomach. It made heat spread throughout Aegon's body. 

Discarding his layers of clothing, he stumbled forward and grabbed hold of (Y/N)'s face, lips slamming against his clumsily. "You." He exhaled and pressed their lips back together, pushing (Y/N) flat against the bed with ease and digging his knees into the mattress. His hands forced the silky robe further apart, undoing the belt and pushing it further down (Y/N)'s shoulders until he could grab a fistful of it and yank it off the bed. 

"What is it you want from me?" (Y/N) asked next, breathless and head tilting back to allow Aegon more access to his neck. Aegon suckled and nipped whatever skin he could reach, littering his skin with red and purple marks that'd surely vex the Madam who owned the brothel, but he was a king. He could do as he pleased. 

Aegon laughed airly in return, leaning back to admire his work and pressing his thumb into one of the bruises. "What everyone else wants." He responded, eyes slowly raking over the rest of his body; from his rising and falling chest down to his thighs. Irritation flared in him at the fading mark of fingers and he placed his hand over his thighs, squeezing until he ensured the only mark left was by him. 

"Your Grace," (Y/N) reached out to cup the nape of his neck, and in one swift move, Aegon found himself lying beneath him. He blinked up at him and then laughed giddily, hands flying to (Y/N)'s hips and squeezing the flesh there. (Y/N) leaned back on his thighs and took him by the shoulders, pulling him up into a sitting position so they were face to face. "What do you really want?"

"Yo-" The word died in his throat when (Y/N)'s fingertips brushed back his messy silver hair behind his ear. His lips pressed together tightly, eyes jumping away from the worker to focus on the lewd mural painted over the wall. (Y/N)'s palm pressed against his cheek, his thumb stroking his skin.

The gentleness of it, the sweetness, the comfort. It was all foreign to Aegon. He was used to being slapped, pushed, screamed at, ignored. Nobody had ever touched him with genuine kindness, not even Ser Criston who seemingly preferred his brother over him, or his mother who spent most of her time staring at him in exasperation or disappointment. The only people who ever looked at him with pure love and adoration... were his children. Little Jaehaerys.. 

Tears sprung to his eyes immediately, a sob threatening to rise in his throat. His teeth clamped down on his bottom lip as his vision blurred, fingers curling around the sheets in a desperate attempt to stop the tears from falling. He couldn't cry in front of someone else, much less a stranger. He was a king. He had to be strong. Crying showed weakness. Aegon wasn't weak. No, no, they were all wrong. He was strong. He-

"I'm here, Your Grace." (Y/N) cooed softly, and Aegon's eyes snapped back to him. He smiled kindly at him and pulled him closer, his fingers tangling themselves in Aegon's hair. They ran through the silver locks sweetly, comfortingly, detangling the knots that'd formed and scratching gently at his scalp. "I'll take care of you."

With that, the wall he'd so desperately built crumbled, his arms slinging around (Y/N)'s waist as his lips parted to release whimpers and muffled wails. (Y/N)'s arms curled around his shoulder, cradling his head and humming gentle lullabies Aegon vaguely recognized. His body trembled and shook with each sob and cry, arms pulling and tugging him closer; seeking out the warmth and comfort he'd been deprived of since his childhood. A father who ignored him, a mother who begrudgingly cared for him, siblings who hardly liked him... a dead son. 

(Y/N) only moved to lean back into the countless pillows, bringing Aegon along with him and letting the king rest his head over his chest. His skin had long grown wet with tears and saliva but he remained silent, focused on rubbing circles along Aegon's back and brushing back his hair until the hiccups and sobs subsided, quieting down into sniffles and tired sighs. Part of him wanted to feel embarrassed but he felt too exhausted to allow the emotion to take hold of him. 

"I'm sorry this happened to you, Your Grace." (Y/N) told him softly, and Aegon's face scrunched up again, the last few tears spilling down his cheeks. Nobody had bothered to comfort him, and he'd been too overwhelmed by everything to seek it from his sister-wife. They hardly understood each other. Her with her odd riddles and sayings, him with his drinking and affairs. 

(Y/N) shifted underneath him, reaching over to the nightstand and retrieving a handkerchief. He dipped his fingers under Aegon's chin and tilted his head toward him, gently dapping at his cheeks and under his nose, drying and cleaning the evidence of his weeping. Nothing in his face changed, no disgust or boredom in his eyes. Only the kind smile and soft eyes. It made Aegon relax fully and completely. 

His fingers tightened on Aegon's chin, tugging on it gently and pulling the king up before connecting their lips again. Aegon slumped against him, his clear mind focused on the softness of his lips and the hint of wine still on his tongue. The back of (Y/N)'s ankles met Aegon's bare thighs, carefully pushing against them until their hips were pressed together. He swallowed the breathy whine that escaped Aegon, a brief teasing smile appearing on his face before Aegon began rocking needily against him, the smile vanishing. His parted lips allowed Aegon to venture into his mouth, tongues colliding on occasion. 

The hand along Aegon's back began exploring, running over the muscles he'd developed despite spending most of his time lazying about. His hand dipped downward and playfully squeezed the mound of flesh there, a low groan escaping Aegon. He pressed his forehead against (Y/N)'s, his lips curling into a smirk at the innocent look that (Y/N) gave him. Cheeky bastard. It was expected from a brothel worker, though. 

The clumsy rocking of his hips increased and the fingers that retangled in his hair gave a tug, gentle enough to not create any real pain but hard enough to get his attention. Aegon whined and dropped his head down to (Y/N)'s shoulder but he eased his rocking, his fingers digging tightly into the pillows and sheets beneath him. At his easy submission, (Y/N) smiled again and pressed a chaste kiss to his temple. 

"Good," He breathed and Aegon flushed at the way heat rushed to his lower belly. (Y/N)'s hand left Aegon's backside and reached for the nightstand again, pulling out a small round cup and bringing it closer. Despite his trembling thighs, Aegon managed to peel himself away from (Y/N), the loss of contact making his hips buck. 

"What is..." Aegon trailed off, (Y/N)'s hand taking his wrist. His thumb swiped over Aegon's fingers, pressing each down until one remained uncurled. The realization dawned on him fairly quickly, the way his features brightened making (Y/N) laugh softly before he dipped the finger into the liquid Aegon assumed to be some sort of oil. 

"I'll guide you, Your Grace." (Y/N) told him softly, setting the cup aside and guiding his hand down between their bodies. Aegon's eyes flickered between (Y/N)'s face and his hand, a strangled curse escaping him when warmth greeted his digit. His free hand tightened further around a pillow, the designs threaded into it imprinting in his palm. The way (Y/N) held eye contact hardly helped with his attempt at self-restraint. 

His mind ran wild, promptly forgetting about politics or the fact they were nearing a war for the first time in decades in order to focus on (Y/N)'s face. The darkening bruises along his neck only made Aegon's mouth water and heart flutter with pride, every gentle gasp and quiet whine that left him only made his veins burn with desire, something he found more addictive than the intoxication of wine. His head swooped down, burying itself in his neck to drag his tongue over the bruises and darken them even further with more suckling.

His hand began moving, slowly and experimental at first. Aegon hardly considered himself a gentle lover, for he preferred the joy of rough and fast fucking, only ever being considerate when it came to his sister-wife. Even then, even with Helaena, he often chased after his own high and pleasure over everyone else's, but he'd been desiring (Y/N) for far too long to make a fool of himself. When he curled his finger and heard (Y/N)'s breath hitch, he smirked and slipped in a second digit. 

Aegon humbly believed himself a quick learner when it came to things he enjoyed, so by the time he added a third digit, he'd already ensured (Y/N) had turned into a panting and whining mess. (Y/N)'s heels dug into his calves roughly enough to turn his pale skin red, the subtle hint of pain only fueling him to quicken his pace. He'd left (Y/N)'s collarbone and part of his chest covered in markings, ensuring any other patrons (Y/N) took for the following days knew who'd taken him to bed. 

The hand tightly gripping his bicep flew down to Aegon's wrist, squeezing around it and pulling his fingers out. His lips formed a pout immediately but he savored the gasp and light huff that escaped (Y/N). He swallowed and leaned up, capturing Aegon's lips again before pushing back against him, toppling Aegon onto his back once again and straddling his hips. Aegon's eyes brightened, his hands digging into (Y/N)'s thighs in anticipation. 

"Shit," A guttural groan left the king, his blunt nails leaving imprints in (Y/N)'s skin when he wrapped his fingers around Aegon's length, his thumb pressing over the slit. Aegon's hips bucked and he threw his head back, his adams apple bobbing with a harsh swallow. His chest heaved and a mixture of a whine and a plead fell from his lips like a prayer. 

"Easy, Your Grace." (Y/N) cooed, his free hand moving to Aegon's chest and pressing against it, fingers gently massaging into the muscle. The hint of mischief in his words didn't go over Aegon's head. His heels dug into the crinkling sheets and his nostrils flared with the deep breath he took, his grip on (Y/N) loosening and thumbs rubbing over the areas apologetically. (Y/N) nodded approvingly and Aegon gave a lopsided grin. 

His composure lasted a whole three seconds before it crumbled with a few pumps from (Y/N)'s hand, though he only continued with a chuckle instead of scolding him. Aegon's eyes turned glassy again from the sensations, his breath hitching every few minutes while the knot in his stomach tightened. He let out a whiny noise when (Y/N) paused his movements, his bottom lip jutting out. However, when he caught the way (Y/N) pushed himself further on his knees and hovered over him, he clamped his mouth shut. 

Aegon's breath hitched again followed by a sharp curse as (Y/N) lowered himself at an agonizingly slow pace. A dribble of drool slipped out from the corner of his parted lips and trailed down his cheek. His mind had long gone blank, the only thing he focused on being the sensation of (Y/N) taking him with only soft pants and the occasional hiss. He desperately wished to move, to flip them over and ensure (Y/N) wouldn't be able to walk for at least a day but he wanted to be good, he wanted the praise he rarely ever got. So he remained still, hands moving to (Y/N)'s hips and clawing lightly at him. 

"You're doing-" (Y/N) cut himself off with a soft grunt, the hand at the base of Aegon's length leaving to plant itself on his other shoulder. Aegon swore he saw stars when (Y/N) fully settled on him. (Y/N) breathlessly laughed at the awestruck, hazy look on Aegon's face, his hand gently cupping his cheek and kissing him. "-so well, my sweet Aegon." Aegon whined softly at that. 

"Please," Aegon whispered and (Y/N) gave him a thoughtful look despite the teasing curl of his lips. "I'll be good." He murmured, words slurred but he hardly felt the effects of everything he'd taken that night. 

"Will you?" (Y/N) still sounded breathless, the candlelight showing off the gleam of sweat on his skin. His hands moved from his shoulders to wander over Aegon's chest and stomach, trailing over his biceps and arms until they reached his hands and laced their fingers together. Aegon nodded hurriedly, so desperate and wanting but the feeling of their hands together made his stomach flutter with a newfound emotion. 

"I-" Aegon had little time to finish his sentence before (Y/N) rose to the tip and then slipped back down to the base, the action knocking the air out of both of them and further tightening the knot threatening to break loose at any moment. One of (Y/N)'s hands untangled itself from Aegon's to slam beside Aegon's hand, a half-hearted attempt at balancing and grounding himself. Aegon held onto the other hand tightly, refusing to let him go for even a second. 

(Y/N) leaned down and pulled him into a heated kiss full of all tongue and muffled cries, Aegon's restraint chipping fully away when (Y/N) grinded down on him a few times. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and wrapped his arm around (Y/N)'s waist tightly, his thighs beginning to ache and burn deliciously.

"Go ahead," (Y/N) exhaled on his lips and Aegon lost himself. 

Much time passed, the sound of pained groaning and grumpy muttering from the other side of the window telling them the sun would soon be rising. The thumping footsteps of patrons nursing hangovers echoed through the brothel as they shuffled out, the jingling of coins and such mixing in. The quiet chatter of brothel workers followed, cups and chairs clinking as they began cleaning up. 

"Your Grace," (Y/N) sighed sleepily, his eyelids visibly heavy and lip slightly jutted out. Aegon felt equally as exhausted but the sight of him rubbing tiredly at his eyes made his heart swell, finding himself unable to resist kissing his semi-swollen lips. (Y/N) hummed softly, his fingers slipping between their faces to push Aegon back. "You must head home. Your-" He cut himself off with a yawn. "Your kingdom requires you." 

"I'd much prefer staying here forever," Aegon responded, coiling his arms tightly around (Y/N)'s body and dragging him closer against him. His whole body ached, his muscles sore and head spinning from the beginning of a hangover. (Y/N) breathed out a snort and rubbed his cheek into the soft satin pillow, eyes beginning to droop. 

"You mustn't. They'll come looking for you, Your Grace." 

"Aegon." He groaned. "Call me Aegon."

"Aegon." (Y/N) repeated softly. "Go home."

"Come with me, then," Aegon told him quietly. At his words, (Y/N)'s eyes snapped open, the sleep jerked away from his body and replaced with surprise. Aegon chuckled at his wide-eyed expression. "Come with me to- to the Red Keep. Come... be my paramour. You'll have your own room near mine... and- and you'll receive whatever you wish for. No one will dare say a thing."

(Y/N) stared at him for a long moment before he cupped Aegon's cheek and pressed a fleeting kiss to the tip of his nose. "You're exhausted, Your Grace. You do not understand what you're saying. You'll come to once you properly rest. You must go now before the sun rises and others see you." He said, slithering out of Aegon's hold to retrieve their clothes. He slipped his robe on with ease and offered Aegon his tunic. 

"I'll get dressed," Aegon took his wrist and dragged his lips over the back of his hand. "If you agree to become my paramour and live in the Red Keep." 

"We're only allowed in the Red Keep to entertain, Your Grace. You'll never be allowed to have a brothel worker as a paramour, much less a man. The Faith will never allow it. The Dowager Queen and- and-" 

"I do not care what they think. I am King. I can do whatever I want, and I want you to be mine."

[lost-in-lamentation]

a moment of respite.

the brothers have nightmares, but you're there.

all brothers × gen!reader (separate. you/your).

belphegor;

sloth slips into your room without a sound, footsteps muffled against the floor as he climbs onto your bed. with more hesitance than usual, belphie places a hand on your shoulder, timidly shaking you until you blink your eyes open. he stares at you awkwardly, hints of shame and fear flitting across his expression, but as you hook your arm around his neck, belphie melts into your hold. sometimes, the one who is in charge of dreams needs someone else to take control.

═  ˎˊ˗

beelzebub;

not yet asleep, you hear shuffling and what sounds like sniffling coming from the kitchen. you can't deny the curiosity or the concern that bubbles up inside you, so you make your way over to find none other than beel. he rummages through the fridge half-heartedly, eyes lined with red and stifling the occasional sob. you step into the kitchen as you knock on the doorway to announce your presence. you walk up to him carefully, and as soon as you're in reach, beel grabs you and pulls you close, relieved that there is something other than food to bring him comfort.

═  ˎˊ˗

asmodeus;

the fifth born knocks on your door with the usual energy, but when you come face to face with him, you see the light in his eyes has been snuffed out. you invite him inside, guiding him to sit on your bed before flicking your lights off. only when asmo is confident that you can't see him do the tears begin to fall. you feel around in the dark for him, wrapping your arms tight around his waist as he clutches at your clothing. and even now, at his lowest, asmo now knows that you accept him today, and will accept him tomorrow, tears and all.

═  ˎˊ˗

satan;

the doorknob to your room turns with alarming speed, but as it quickly as it does, it returns to its original position, and you hear a soft rapping of knuckles instead of the click of a door. you call them to come in, and when satan finally reveals himself to you, you can't help but clamber off the bed to move towards him. there is anger, sorrow, confusion, and helplessness clouding his gaze, all brought together by the tears that slip down his cheeks. gently, you take his face into your hands, thumbs swiping away at the tears as he shows you that he is much more than just wrath.

═  ˎˊ˗

levi;

your phone wakes you up with a series of notifications, all coming from one place. you rush over to levi's room, reciting the password as quick as you can before pushing the door open. to your dismay, you find levi trembling in the tub he uses for a bed, his hands white knuckled as he curls in tightly around himself. your heart twists when he calls out your name, his voice smaller than usual. you pad over to the side of the tub, prying his hands away from himself to take them into yours, running your fingers over his as you remind him that you'll always be here.

═  ˎˊ˗

mammon;

the door is slammed open with a bang, your heart nearly jumping out of your chest when suddenly there is a pair of arms nearly choking you in their embrace. the light that floods into your room from the hallway reveals the head of white hair that is now pressed into your shoulder, and you realise quickly that your shirt is becoming damp. you take a second to ground yourself before bringing your own arms up to envelop mammon, one of your hands playing with his hair as you pull him down to lie next to you. mammon doesn't say anything, but you know he'll be okay as long as you don't let him go.

═  ˎˊ˗

lucifer;

lucifer doesn't bother to knock, and simply opens your door to find you sitting at your desk. when you see the fear that fills his gaze, you quickly shuffle over, coming to a stop in front of him. your own fear is mirrored in his eyes as you raise your hand to cup his face, the other slowly trailing down his side until it lands on his waist. at your touch, lucfier unravels, a quiet sob breaking free from his chest as lowers his head. you meet him in the middle, pulling him to rest his head on your shoulder. his heart, marred by everything that haunts him, finally feels clear as it beats in tandem with yours.

a/n: idk man i can't sleep

reblogs are really appreciated (´ω｀) ♡

[cinamintyy]

Hello! I was wondering if you could do a small request? I was thinking of Capitano with an s/o who’s a dragon? Like just a normal dragon that can turn into a human(like Nuvulett<don’t remember how to spell my hydro dragons name) and there the last of there kind?(By that I mean born a dragon and went into hiding because of over hunting also By dragon form look at the dragons from House of the dragon for some inspo) how do you think he’d react to seeing his s/o’s dragon form for the first time and having a flight? Lest not forget to deep snoring…if not that’s alright I just wanted to put this out there.

Capitano has me in a chokehold I swear

Capitano x Dragon reader:

A/N:Sry this is late, but I love this idea sm. I'm just clearing out my inbox for these next days.

CW: Dragon reader, hybrid reader, minor character death.

It was cruel how all of those you knew were taken from you, simply for sport. Killed and taken apart for wings or horns as trophies. You saw all this happening and decided this would not happen to you, so you hid, amongst the humans. You hid any feature that would identify to those hunters you were a dragon, something the rest of your kind couldn't or refused to do. You wouldn't end up hanging on the wall, so you abandoned who you used to be. You didn't have a home, but you eventually decided to settle in Natlan. The pilgrimage wasn't an interest of yours it never was, either way, you weren't from Natlan so you couldn't join. For the stories you told and how wise you were, I mean, you did live a few hundred years. The smaller children especially enjoyed your "made-up" stories of dragons and flying through the sky at extremely high altitudes and speeds. To be fair, your life was going pretty peaceful.

One day, you were at a bar just to get a quick drink when this larger-than-average man who was fully covered in armour sat next to you and ordered a drink. He piqued your curiosity, so you started small talk, but it's safe to say he was a brick wall. You continued to have determination and persisted in talking to him. Capitano was honestly impressed at your persistence and decided to humor you. You both met at the same bar every day to talk. He loved the wise energy you emanated. To be honest, he became smitten, he loved seeking you for advice. But one thing that ate at you was the fact Capitano didn't know the actual you. The fact you were a dragon, the closer you both, the bigger the urge you had to tell him was. You need stress relief and what better way to relieve yourself than to take flight? Just the way you used to, at the very same heights and altitudes. What you didn't know was Capitano knew something was wrong, to him you acted 'odd' and kinda standoffish. He was about to visit you so he could what was up with you when he saw you headed somewhere else. Which just so you know this was at night so it was quite odd, he decided that instead of asking you where you were heading he would just follow you. Secretive? He knew, but what if someone was harming you and you were keeping it secret from him? If it was harmless he would leave knowing you were fine. You decided to take a quick fly around the outskirts of Natlan at night, if any people saw you they would just be seen as having a screw loose. C'mon, this was Natlan, the only place where someone would most likely just see a dragon flying around was Mondstadt. Unbeknownst to you, Capitano saw the whole thing, from you transforming, to you flying, and to you landing back down. You had only realized he saw you afterward. "I apologize, I feel as though I've intruded on you, you've been acting quite odd as of late, and I thought I should follow you to make sure no one was hurting you. I truly apologize I was too forward in my actions." He said to you bowing slightly to show how apologetic he was. You cursed yourself for being so careless silently before replying. "It's alright you had good intentions, either way, you were going to find out one way or another. I am, as you can see, a dragon." Capitano stared in silence before finding his words "A beautiful one I might add, I quite enjoyed seeing you soar through the air." You blushed at the words, "So you're not angry that I've kept such a secret from you?" You asked. "Goodness no, it's understandable why one would keep such a thing, but I'm glad I now know." You let out a sigh of relief at his words. "Perhaps one day you should take me out flying, I think I'd enjoy it." He said proposing an idea for a next date.

Perhaps you would take him outside flying, you think you would enjoy it as well.

[cashmere-caveman]

flint voice all i ever wanted was to walk away from the sea silver voice i never wanted to be a pirate flint voice i feared the man i was about to create. i feared that someone born of such dark things would consume me were i not careful. and i was determined only to wear him for a while and then dispose of him when his purpose was complete. and i thought of that story. billy voice i've watched her follow mad men. i've watched her follow rich men. i've watched her bow before tyrants. but now it's time she had a king. when we're ready, when he's ready, he'll step into the role we've created for him. flint voice when i say there's a war coming, i don't mean with the scarborough. i don't mean with king george or england. civilization is coming and it means to exterminate us. if we are to survive, we must unite behind our own king. billy voice we have no kings here. flint voice i am your king. billy voice but now it's time she had a king. when we're ready, when he's ready, he'll step into the role we've created for him. max voice until then, i remain long john silver. madi voice who is long john silver? silver voice well, that's a very good question. i assume he saw value in the tall tales told about me after that night in the tavern. saw mystery in it, perhaps. use my name upon which to build his story. flint voice one night he was alone on the late watch at anchor in the boston harbour when he sees this man climbing out of the water and onto his ship. a stranger. now, my grandfather thought about ringing the bell, but curiosity got the better of him. the stranger approaches my grandfather and asks him for a little rum. man said that he'd fled his fishing trawler. accused of killing another man. and when asked his name, the man simply replied mr. flint. billy voice when we're ready, when he's ready, he'll step into the role we've created for him. silver voice look, this deal, it's really a terrible idea. there are so many ways it could go wrong. me, i can't help myself. i see an opportunity, i take it. it's a sickness. truly. but you, you can still walk away.

[hannieehaee]

raindrops (an angel cried) (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: being assigned watching duties over humans was usually a task reserved for high level angels. on jeonghan's first week of promotion, he finds himself far too curious about licentious human activities, becoming infatuated with his assigned human. what happens when his interest goes too far, it gets him kicked out of heaven?

content: fallenangel!jeonghan, jeonghan is your guardian angel up until he gets kicked out of heaven oops, infatuation, inexperienced jeonghan, even as an angel he's still a menace to all, heaven is super strict, afab reader, smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of masturbation, penetrative sex, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 936 (teaser); 11.1k (full fic)

release date: may 17th

or you can check it out on my ko-fi or patreon today by subscribing to either one!

a/n: angel!jeonghan was a must so here it is

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

"Who is that?", asked Jeonghan, apprehension in his eyes.

"That's your human."

"My human? I'm getting a promotion?"

"Listen, Jeonghan. I had to call in a lot of favors to get the higher ups to let you get this promotion. You better follow the rules to the letter. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Kwannie, I know," he rolled his eyes, "Why do you have so little trust in me?"

"I'm serious, Jeonghan. If you keep messing up, you might get kicked out of heaven. Do you really want to be down there with the humans? Being a mortal?"

Jeonghan couldn't help but think the idea sounded enticing.

He hadn't had too much exposure to humans thus far, but he had always had great interest in them. They just sounded so free and different from one another, unlike in heaven, where specific behavior was to be expected from every working angel.

Within heaven, you were either born as an elite sort of angel, – with all their angelic duties assigned – or you were born human and then admitted into heaven as an angel, getting to enjoy eternal happiness with your loved ones. Jeonghan, sadly, was the former. Having been born into an angel position, it meant that although his life was not miserable by any means, it was just a closed box of responsibilities to fulfill until the end of eternity. He truly envied all the humans-turned-angels in heaven, often asking them about their memories as humans and trying to live vicariously through them.

Due to his constant curiosity of humans, Jeonghan often got in trouble as he stuck his nose in places it shouldn't be. As an angelic being, Jeonghan's duties as an angel were mostly clerical, managing which human each angel would be assigned to as a guardian angel. Ever since being born as an angelic entity, Jeonghan's dream had been to be promoted into a guardian angel position. In his current job, the most interaction with humans he ever got was the ability to see a quick overview of their timelines in order to assess which guardian angel would be the best fit for them. His job was comfortable and stable, never causing him any trouble. But he wanted more. He wanted to be down there, on the playing field as he watched over his own human.

So he would cheat occasionally, maybe snooping into human's lives for more than he was allowed to. Sometimes he'd pause on certain bits that drew a little curiosity and simply observe. He'd also on occasion tried to make his way down to Earth, only to check things out on his own. All his attempts were always met with reprimands from his higher ups, claiming that a soul as curious as his own should not be near humans. The existence of angels was meant to stay a myth, after all.

When Seungkwan took him into one of the offices designated for guardian angels, Jeonghan had been shocked. He had been banned from being brought here a few years back, so it was a very well appreciated change of pace for him. What was even more shocking, however, was when Seungkwan led him into one of the sphere rooms, which contained a view of any and every human in existence in real time. The most shocking thing, though? The pretty girl reflecting on the globe, very deep in slumber as Seungkwan revealed Jeonghan's promotion.

"Her old guardian angel retired. Chose to move to the land of humans-turned-angels. Angel Jihoon was simply going to ask you to assign her a new angel, but I put in a good word for you, so he gave you the job. Don't fuck it up, Jeonghan. Do you understand?", his friend was quite stern as he warned him.

"Big words for an angel."

"Don't go puritanical on me, Jeonghan. Your behavior in Heaven doesn't matter. It's when you meddle with humans that you'll get in trouble. Just ... Please follow the rules and don't step out of line."

Seungkwan was right. From all the accounts he heard from angels who had died and gone to heaven, Heaven and Earth were quite similar. People held jobs, lived a day to day life, had relationships. There were a few stark differences, though. There was no suffering in Heaven – no illness, no tiredness, no debilitating feelings. Sure, frustration and annoyance were a thing (God knew Jeonghan had felt those things), but it was virtually impossible to be truly unhappy in Heaven.

Jeonghan had no problem with Heaven, he was just far too curious about humans to stay still and do nothing. He was not allowed to admit it, but he had always wanted to know what it'd be like to be human. To live through pain, struggle, confusion. He just wanted to experience it all.

Angels had no needs in heaven. Hunger didn't exist, neither did aging or an itch to do or feel things humans usually engaged in. For instance, while Jeonghan had heard of sex and romantic relationships, this was something that angels did not have the innate desire to feel, as they were born fulfilled in every sense. Human-born angels, however, brought their humanly experiences and emotions along with them to heaven, sometimes telling tales of such things, always drawing Jeonghan's curiosity to new heights.

Looking at you through the sphere, Jeonghan felt excitement at thinking of what humanly emotions you may be feeling. He also felt giddy at knowing that you would one day come to pass onto his heavenly realm, where he would meet you after having known you for the entirety of your lifetime.

...

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NOTE: comment if u'd like to be tagged when it comes out<3 i wont respond to comments but if u reply ill tag u<3

[the-offside-rule]

Pau Cubarsí (FCBarcelona) - Wake Up Call

Requested: yes

Warnings: none

Pau woke up on Monday morning with a sense of unease. He had sent a good morning text to his girlfriend, Y/N, but it had been hours without a reply. As he got dressed, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Concerned, he decided to head over to her house. Arriving at Y/N's place, Pau knocked on the door. To his surprise, it swung open, revealing her younger brother, Fernando, wearing a bright smile. “Hey, Pau! What are you doing here?” Fernando asked, his hands still clutching a bowl of cereal, the remnants of breakfast smeared across his cheek. “I came to see Y/N. She didn’t respond to my message this morning. Is she around?” Pau replied, trying to mask his worry.

“Yeah, she’s still asleep.” Fernando said, as he waved his twin sister, Jorda, over. She was sprawled on the living room floor, engrossed in a cartoon, a cereal box clutched in her tiny hands. Pau peered into the living room. “Are you guys just having cereal straight from the box again?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah! It tastes better this way!” Fernando grinned, tossing a piece of cereal into his mouth. “Where are Xavi and Sergi?” Pau asked, momentarily forgetting that their older brothers had started university this year and wouldn’t be back until Sunday.

“Xavi is in Madrid for college, Sergi is in London. Mama is on a business trip, and Papa is working a night shift, so he won’t be home until three.” Fernando replied, nonchalantly. Pau’s heart sank. “So, Y/N is alone?”

“Yup. Just sleeping.” Fernando confirmed, popping another piece of cereal into his mouth. With a resolute nod, Pau decided. “Alright, I’ll help get you two ready for school. Y/N needs some sleep.” He quickly walked towards the stairs, peeking into Y/N’s room. The sight made him smile and worry at the same time. Y/N was sprawled across her bed, notes scattered around her like fallen leaves. He couldn’t help but admire how dedicated she was to her studies, but it also made him feel guilty that she hadn’t been able to rest.

“Come on, let’s get you two ready!” Pau said, returning to Fernando and Jorda. “Are we going in your car?” Jorda asked excitedly, bouncing on her toes. “Of course! It’s a special day,” Pau replied, smirking as he recalled how the twins loved riding in his new Cupra. As they made their way down to the car, Pau switched to Spanish, engaging the twins in their father’s native tongue. “Cómo están, mis pequeños?” He asked playfully.

“Bien!” They chimed in unison, their eyes wide with excitement. Although being born and raised in Barcelona, Y/N's family primarily spoke english at home, mostly due to it being their mother's first language. Her job didn't require her to learn Spanish, she simply stayed at home until her company sent her out to review something. Her father however, was from Lleida and moved to Barcelona, in doing so, meeting their mother. Since the twins rarely spoke spanish or catalan at home, Y/N and her father tried incorperating it in everyday at home, simply by having breakfast in spanish every morning. “I’m just going to send Y/N a quick text so she doesn’t panic when she wakes up,” Pau said, pulling out his phone.

Hola cariño, just bringing Fernando and Jorda to school so you can get some rest. Love you!

Once they were all buckled in, Pau started the car. The twins immediately bombarded him with questions ranging from who he thinks will win the balloon d'or, to questions about whether the chicken or the egg came first. However, one question really did stick out to him. “Pau, do you want to marry our sister?” Fernando asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. Pau sucked in a sharp breath. He hadnt exactly thought of thay before. They were both young and had been dating a year. After a second, he chuckled, a warm feeling spreading through him. “When we are older, I absolutely will.” He replied with a wink.

As they arrived at school, Pau couldn’t help but notice the awe on the other children’s faces as they saw the shiny Cupra. He parked the car, and the twins hopped out, waving goodbye. “Bye, Pau! Thanks!” Jorda shouted, running off with her brother. With a smile, Pau watched them run inside before heading off to training. As he drove, he couldn’t shake the thoughts of Y/N from his mind. Finally, during a break in his practice, he pulled out his phone and checked for messages.

His heart lifted when he saw a reply from Y/N: “Sorry, babe! Just woke up. Thank you for taking care of the twins. You’re the best! Love you!” Pau smiled to himself, feeling the warmth of their connection and the excitement of their future together. Everything felt right in the world, and he couldn’t wait to see her later.

[gor3-hound]

ETERNITY — SUGURU GETO

a/n: hiii !! first geto fic on this account maybe?? shocker bcs i love him so bad... commission for @nexysworld !! love her so bad, pls check her out <3

cw: 18+ content, father-daughter incest, possessive behaviour, sheltered reader, mildly dubious consent, yandere-ish themes, very teeny tiny amount of religious themes, too. p in v, creampie, brief choking

Suguru Geto is not a man you would consider to be unkind, but there was very little affection within his actions. Your father was often patient with you - strict, but forgiving. When he touched you, it was always cold and clinical; always born out of necessity. 

Your mother had always been irrelevant to him, nothing more than a means to an end. That just so happened to be you, his daughter, and one and only heir. He had sensed the cursed energy within you the moment you were born, and he took you in to raise you on his own. He had no need for that woman anymore - she had served her purpose and bestowed him with a gift greater than any other.

Your life was free of troubles. Perhaps you did not get to play with the village children, but that was alright. You were allowed to play with the others within the compound. His followers were always kind to you, if not somewhat on edge in your presence. You did not understand it then, but now you realised the apprehension they held did not stem from your actions, but from fear of upsetting your father. You had been sheltered, yes, but you found you did not crave much else. You were well-fed, well looked after… It was hard to feel caged when the compound was all you had known.

Your youthful naivety could not last forever, and Suguru knew this. He dreaded your growth with each passing year, waiting for the questions that would come. He could keep you from the outside world, but he could not keep the outside world from you. He had many visitors, people looking to be cured of their ailments. He could keep you from watching these interactions, but he could see the way your curious eyes shone as you watched them come and go.

You asked him about the outside world only once, shortly after he had ‘cured’ a young child. You had been excited to see someone closer to your age, but his words quickly shut you down.

“The child has been plagued with demons,” He had told you simply, eyes cold as he glanced down at you. “I can keep them at bay, yes. But it would not do you well to socialise with others such as him. They will corrupt you.”

It had not convinced you entirely, and he could see that in your eyes. With a small frown, he kneeled before you, tilting his head to the side. “I extracted one from him. Would you like to see it?”

You nodded, as expected. Hopeful curiosity glimmering in your eyes, the idea of being shown something new and dangerous exciting to you. He sighs, allowing the cursed spirit he had absorbed free. He had no worry - he knew it was safely under his control. But he could see the fear in your eyes as it stalked towards you, the way you instinctively backed up, glancing at your father for protection.

“Daddy-” 

He lets its maw open inches from your body, the acrid stench of its breath filling the room as it goes to attack. He watches, unblinking, as you tremble and beg for his help, tears streaming down your face. Even still, he waits a few more seconds before driving his cursed tool through the spirit, exorcising it with ease.

“Do you see now why I cannot let you outside? It is far too dangerous for you.” You nod, clinging to him as you sob into the fabric of his robes. He lets you, holding you close to him. “I do not wish to see you hurt. Promise me you won’t ask to leave the compound again.”

“I promise.”

The years pass, and you do not dare mention leaving the compound again. Even as you reach adulthood, the memory of the demon you faced as a child keeps you biting back any requests of more freedom.

Something in your father has changed - you’re not sure what it is, but it leaves you with a lingering sense of unease whenever you cross his path. His gaze has become sharper, watching your every movement like he’s waiting for something. What it is, you’re unsure of. Your pulse is constantly racing when you’re forced to be in his proximity for more than a few seconds, but your brain can’t register what it is about him that’s making you so tense.

Your realisation comes to you slowly. You’ve seen that look before in some of them men that have wandered around the compound. Not directed at you, but you’re able to identify it all the same. 

Hunger.

Your realisation doesn’t come with any changes in his actions, but you can see in the subtle curve of his lips that he knows. He can sense that you act differently around him. Geto is an intelligent man, and it’s clear he planned for you to find out from the start. Months pass by without any changes in routine. You rarely see your father unless he deems it necessary to address you, his followers often being the ones responsible for ensuring you attend meals and stay within the compound.

Then, suddenly, he comes to you.

It’s the middle of the night when he wakes you with a gentle caress on your cheek. It’s one of the most affectionate touches he’s given you since you were a little girl, fingertips gently brushing over your cheekbones. When you meet his eyes, your heart stops beating for a moment.

His gaze is anything but kind. His jaw is set tight, and in that moment you realised how naive you were to think ignoring his glances would be enough to keep him at bay. Seeing your eyes widen with fear is enough for a sharp grin to spread across his face, his hand shifting to grasp at your hair, tilting your head back harshly.

“You're looking so beautiful these days, sweetheart.” Suguru murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck, free hand grasping at your hip. “I thought about resisting my impulses, but it’s as if you were made to tempt me. Pure, kind, beautiful. Forbidden fruit is always said to be the sweetest, but I had never thought temptation would come to me in the form of my very own daughter.”

You stiffen under him, hands pushing at his chest. He tuts disapprovingly, his fingers slackening as he pulls his hand from your hair. Suguru slides his fingers down the side of your neck, delicately wrapping around your throat before he squeezes.

“Shh, calm down. It’s only me, bunny.” He purrs the nickname, one he has not used in years in an attempt to soften you, It works, momentarily, but your muscles still feel fraught with tension. He leans down, fingers tightening around your neck in a warning as he presses his lips to yours.

His mouth is hot against yours as he kisses you. He keeps the pace leisurely, almost teasing as he presses his chapped lips against yours, tongue coaxing your lips open. The hand on your hip slides under your shirt in a way that makes you jolt, immediately breaking the kiss.

“Daddy, wait-”

Suguru scoffs, raising a brow at you. “That makes you sound so childish. You're a big girl now, aren't you?”

“D-Dad?” You correct, feeling yourself squirm under his harsh gaze.

“Better.” He breathes out, lowering his head once more to lathe his tongue along the flesh of your throat, licking hotly at your quickening pulse beneath the skin. The hand on your bare slides higher, dragging the fabric of your shirt up until he’s cupping your breast, thumb brushing gently over your nipple. You gasp softly at the pleasure it brings, something that brings an unfamiliar heat searing through your veins as wetness pools in the gusset of your panties.

He grins at the gasp he draws from your lips, teeth gently nipping at your skin as he releases your throat. His thumb flicks over your nipple once more as he drags his other hand down, moving to feel the wetness seeping through your underwear.

“I promised I’d protect you, bunny, and I meant it.” He murmurs, tracing a finger down the middle of the dampened fabric. He feels you tremble as he brushes over your clit, so he presses down gently to hear you whimper.

“I meant it,” he repeats, “I won’t hurt you, I just want you to feel good. You trust me, don’t you?

It’s a question, but it sounds more like a threat. You felt that familiar sense of unease in the back of your mind. You hadn’t experienced these things before, but you weren’t clueless.  You knew this was wrong, that he shouldn’t be touching you like this, but as his thumb replaces his finger so he could gently rub circles into your clit, your apprehension melts.

“Good girl.” He praises, words smooth and sweet. His fingers hook in the waistband of your panties, and he slowly slides them down your legs. His eyes hone in on your cunt, slick with arousal that he caused. “Look at you.”

Shame burns your face as you close your thighs, attempting to hide yourself from his view. Suguru grabs your knees, prying your thighs away before sliding his body between them to keep them from closing again.

“What’s wrong? You said you trusted me, bunny. Why are you trying to hide from me?”

“I wasn’t, I… I’m sorry.” You reply, gaze dropping nervously. Your heart pounds almost painfully in your chest, feeling more ashamed for disappointing your father.

“I don’t want to punish you, darling. Don’t you want to be good for me?” He says quietly, his tone almost condescending. He doesn’t wait for a reply before he sinks a finger into your tight cunt, a groan rumbling his chest as he feels you squeezing the digit. “Such an innocent little thing. So tight and wet.”

Suguru pulls back briefly only to remove his clothing, settling between your legs once more. His thumb presses down the base of his cock, allowing himself to align the tip with your dripping hole. “This may hurt at first, but you need to relax for me. Can you be a good girl?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, voice soft and nervous. Suguru presses forward, sliding himself inch by inch inside of your tight heat until his cock is pressed to your cervix. Tears prick at your eyes from the sudden burn, your chest heaving with heavy breaths as he pauses to allow you to adjust to his size.

“Shh, shh. You’ll be alright, bunny. Your body was made for me, after all. It will feel good soon.” He promises, gently rocking his hips. “My sweet girl. I’d never have another have you like this. No, it has to be me. I won’t ever let anyone hurt you.”

He tries to be gentle with you - he has no intention to hurt his sweet little girl - but the way you squeeze around him feels divine. He’s sure he’s never felt anything so perfect before, feeling as though he’s being driven mad as your slick walls cling to his cock, sucking him greedily every time he starts to pull out. Suguru is not one to lose control, but he can’t find it within himself to hold back as he starts to fuck into you with earnest, pounding you into the mattress until you’re crying out with every thrust.

His hand falls to rest on your pelvis, thumb brushing your clit in a way that makes you mewl, arching into his touch. He grunts as you squeeze tighter around his cock, his hips stuttering as he rubs circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips buck, and he slams into you harder, bruising your cervix each time his hips snap forward. You’re so tight and warm and perfect around him, and he’s not sure how much longer he’s going to last inside of you.

He watches through hooded, lust-glazed eyes as your body coils up tight, the prettiest moans and whimpers spilling from your hips as you come undone around his length. His teeth clench at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him, the grip on your hip turning bruising as he fucks into you erratically, chasing his own release. His hips stutter before he stills, spilling deep inside of you with a low groan. His eyes squeeze shut, hand falling away from your clit to grip the sheets as he floods you with his cum.

“There we go, bunny.” He murmurs softly as he returns to himself, slowly pulling out of you. He sighs shakily, brushing some hair from your face. “You’re mine forever, darling. I’m never letting you stray from my side.” 

His tone alone assures you his words are a promise.

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗥𝗢𝗖𝗞 - part eight max verstappen x fem! driver! reader ( fluff ) series summary . . . when the lives of an f1 and wec prodigies collide, they find out they find out that they’re not that different and carve out a place for their selves in each others hearts. the commentators from sky sports call this puppy love

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Max was sitting cross-legged at the end of you’s bed, tugging on one end of a rope while Marshmallow, you spotted Dalmatian, gave it all he had on the other. Marshmallow growled playfully, his teeth gripping the rope as he crouched low, eyes shining with determination. Max was grinning, leaning back slightly to tease the dog by letting the rope slacken, only to give it another quick tug just as Marshmallow tried to make his move.

The game paused when you reappeared from the room service table, balancing two plates. She handed one over to Max, who glanced down to find a plate of kebabs, still steaming and smelling like a mouthwatering mix of spices. He blinked, caught off guard. He’d mentioned in a TikTok interview once that he loved kebabs, but he couldn’t remember telling you about it. She couldn’t have known . . . right?

You sat on the bed beside him, nibbling on your own food and looking entirely unbothered by the thought that you might’ve just exposed yourself. Marshmallow, on the other hand, was absolutely determined to ruin the peace, inching up next to you and giving you the most heart-melting stare as he eyed your kebab. She chuckled, shooing him off with your fork. “You already ate, mister.”

Meanwhile, Max was twirling his fork, glancing between the plate and you, and mustering up the courage to ask something that had been weighing on him. Finally, he spoke, his voice softer than usual. “So . . . what’s your mom like?”

You paused mid-bite, looking at him with a mix of surprise and confusion. She’d never really been asked that before. It was then, as you were processing the question, that Marshmallow seized his chance. With a swift, triumphant chomp, he snagged a piece of kebab off your fork and trotted proudly over to Max’s side, plopping down as if Max had been his partner in crime.

You huffed, laughing softly as you watched your dog munch away before turning your gaze back to Max. “Well . . . I wouldn’t really know,” you started, your voice carrying an edge of practised nonchalance. “My mom was young, barely eighteen when I was born. I guess you just weren’t ready to handle it, so . . . you didn’t.” you tried to brush it off with a shrug, focusing on the flickering TV screen instead. “It didn’t really matter, though. My dad was always there, and I had Fernando, Carlos, Jenson . . . I grew up surrounded by people who cared. I was happy.”

A comfortable silence settled between them, each taking bites from their plates, and for once, Marshmallow seemed satisfied as he sat curled up by Max’s feet, licking his chops. you glanced back at Max, curiosity pricking at her. “Why’d you ask?”

Max hesitated. He didn’t want to admit he’d overheard Carlos mention it to Lando; he didn’t want to make you feel awkward. So he simply shrugged, offering you a gentle smile. “I know your dad pretty well, but your mom? Not so much. I get it, though,” he added softly, his gaze dropping to his plate. “In a way . . . I think we’re kind of similar. We both had parents who—weren’t really there in the way we needed.”

His words hung in the air for a moment, and you felt a surprising warmth bloom in your chest. She gave him a small, appreciative smile, inching a little closer until you could lean your head against his shoulder. You watched TV in silence, the show barely registering as you both sat in a quiet, shared understanding.

You ate in easy companionship until you suddenly remembered your conversation with Lando from earlier. You sat up, your eyes bright, catching Max mid-bite.

Max blinked, pausing as he chewed, his fork halfway to his mouth. “What’s up?”

She bit your lip, and without thinking twice, you asked, “Can I kiss you again?”

Max nearly choked on his kebab, swallowing quickly. “Uh, my mouth’s full of kebab, but . . .” He grinned, wiping his mouth on his wrist. “Sure. Please.”

He leaned in, giving you a quick, playful peck as you giggled, and for the first time, Max felt like he could happily sit here, lost in your laughter, for as long as you’d let him.

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“Is that guy serious?” you groaned, easing off the throttle as the black Alpine in front of you sluggishly took the corner, red lights flashing, his car creeping around the track like it had all the time in the world. You abandoned your fast lap, grip tightening around the wheel as frustration boiled over. “Is he fucking—who is it? Who’s number 31?”

“That was Ocon—”

“Ocon?” you cut off your engineer, voice sharp and incredulous. “Really? Is he serious with me right now? Again?” You sped past the Alpine, flipping the driver off as you zoomed down the straight, jaw clenched so hard you swore you could feel it in your temples.

Your radio crackled back. “That’s P15 for tomorrow, Yn. P15.”

“Great,” you shouted, sarcasm seething through your voice as you pushed the car into the pits. Every turn, every acceleration suddenly felt meaningless. You were stuck now. “That’s it? I’m done?”

“Yes, confirm. That is P16 for tomorrow.”

“Fucking hell.” The words hissed out before you could stop them, anger rushing like adrenaline in your veins. The second you pulled into the pits, you pulled your helmet off, ripping it free of the wires, and hopped out. As you strode over to your team, you could feel the weight of that disappointment pressing down, hard and relentless. Ocon’s little maneuver had cost you everything you’d worked for in qualifying, and now you were looking at a dismal starting position because he decided to mess around.

As you hit the weigh station, getting through the post-session formalities, you felt the simmering anger twist into something even sharper. And what made it worse was everyone around you treating you like a ticking time bomb that they needed to defuse. “Just calm down, Yn, it’s all right,” someone coaxed, a hand patting your shoulder gently. “Deep breath, all right?”

It took every ounce of self-control not to scream. You didn’t need their calm words, didn’t need to be handled like you were on the verge of a meltdown. They didn’t seem to understand that it wasn’t okay, that losing your lap to an unnecessary block wasn’t something you could just brush off.

In the end, Ocon had done exactly what he wanted, securing his teammate’s spot in Q3 while shoving you down the grid. You could feel your fists clenching, the need to release all this pent-up frustration itching under your skin. Your PC stayed glued to your side as you made your way toward the briefing room, but your mind was still racing, stuck on that Alpine. If you saw Esteban after the debrief, he’d better have his helmet on—because right now, every thought you had involved giving him a piece of your mind and then some.

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direct messenges: Max + YN

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‘Finally’, Charles thought as he leaned his folded arms on the back of your sim chair, watching you do a few laps on the circuit. You smiled a little when he unconsciously commented on what you should do differently, glancing up at him. “I think I know what I’m doing, Leclerc.” You joke, turning off the sim and scribbling your quiet time somewhere.

“But this is the first time you’ve driven here since 2017.” He reminds you, smiling down at you as you stand up. “I’ve also won here a few years ago.” If it was up to Charles, he’d let himself get lost in your eyes and melt at the sound of your sarcastic laugh, or the way you patted his chest before walking out. His eyes followed you as you regrouped with Carlos’ PR to prepare for the media pen, overhearing how your goal for tomorrow would be gaining points for the team, the same words you’ve said last weekend.

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The start of the race had been a chaotic mess, with red flags and yellow flags throwing half the field off their game. But for you? It was a godsend. Each restart and caution felt like another opening, and you seized every one with a focus sharper than any you’d felt in weeks. Bit by bit, you clawed your way through the pack, pushing the limits of your car, finding every possible inch of track space until you found yourself in P2, just one position away from Max. And from there, the real chase began.

For the next grueling stretch, you stayed glued to his tail, pushing him to his absolute limit. You could almost imagine him there, jaw clenched, eyes narrowed, knowing that one slight slip would cost him the lead. You were pushing him so hard, it felt like a game of chess at breakneck speeds—one where every maneuver, every millisecond counted.

Your engineer buzzed into your ear. “You’re gaining, Yn. Keep the pressure.”

“Copy,” you muttered, eyes locked on Max’s car just meters ahead. He was fast, but you had DRS in your back pocket, an advantage you let linger, savoring the chase. You didn’t need to pass him yet; you just needed to keep him pushing harder, faster, to build that gap. And it was working. The two of you were so far ahead of the rest of the field now that it felt like your own private battle.

Each time the DRS opened, you felt the adrenaline kick harder. You could pass him whenever you wanted, but where was the fun in that? You’d wait until the moment was perfect. Finally, with Logan Sargeant’s car ahead, you knew it was time. You opened DRS, overtaking Max with precision, your car slicing past his like it was second nature. Your heart surged as you glanced at him in the mirror, the split-second look of determination in his eyes making you grin.

Now in the lead, you latched onto Logan, using his DRS to bolt ahead and create an impossible distance for Max to overcome. Each corner, each stretch, you could feel the power surging through you, knowing you’d not only taken the lead but had crafted a strategy that made it near impossible for him to catch you. Logan played his part well, too; after you overtook him, he got DRS off you, towing along behind you as you both surged forward. Watching Logan gain positions behind you almost felt like poetic justice.

It wasn’t until you reached the back markers that you glanced in your rearview mirror, expecting Max’s car to be right there, as relentless as he always was. But he wasn’t there.

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The crowd was roaring, a deafening symphony of cheers and applause, but you were hardly aware of anything except the pounding of your own heart. You stood on top of your car in Parc Fermé, fists raised to the sky, just like your dad used to after each of his wins. The moment felt surreal, as if it wasn’t just yours but his too, echoing through time. Closing your eyes, you could almost hear his voice, proud and booming, “You did it, kiddo.”

When you finally hopped down, the first person you spotted was Fernando. Without thinking, you sprinted toward him, leaping into his arms, your heart bursting with the joy of the moment. His hands pressed into your back, holding you close as his voice broke, thick with emotion. “I knew you could do it! I’m so proud of you!” The warmth of his embrace wrapped around you like a protective shield.

Pulling back, you caught the glisten of unshed tears in his eyes. His expression said everything his words couldn’t—this victory was more than a trophy; it was a piece of the past you’d resurrected. You couldn’t help but smile, a mix of joy and bittersweet nostalgia bubbling up inside you. “I felt him with me out there, you know?” you confessed, your voice soft.

As you reveled in the moment, somewhere in the crowd, Max was trying to make his way to you. His eyes darted through the throng, heart racing at the thought of celebrating your win together. He clutched a hair tie in his hand, a little memento from last night—a way to keep your hair back amid the whirlwind of the podium. But before he could reach you, a firm grip yanked him back by his shirt. Carlos stood there, his expression a silent warning that conveyed, Not now. Max froze, understanding the message, but the urge to congratulate you burned stronger than ever.

You were blissfully unaware of the tension, moving on to greet Susie Wolff, who pulled you in for a warm embrace. “Thank you, Yn,” she whispered, her voice filled with sincerity. “You’ve shown that it’s possible. We always knew it was, but now everyone else knows it too.” Her words settled deep within you, pride blooming like a flower in spring, the weight of her admiration lifting your spirits even higher.

Next came the Sainzes—Carlos Sr. wrapped you in a bear hug, his smile radiant, soon joined by Carlos Jr. and Fernando, pulling you into a warm, all-Spaniard embrace. Their laughter mingled with your own, a shared joy that felt like family. “You’re a legend now, Yn!” Carlos Jr. declared, beaming. “Next, we’ll need to build a statue!”

When it was time for your post-race interview, you spotted Jenson waiting with a grin, microphone in hand. But before he could say a word, you charged forward and threw your arms around him. He laughed in surprise, the warmth of your embrace catching him off guard. “Didn’t… didn’t expect that!” he exclaimed, patting your back awkwardly. Pulling back, you could see the amusement dancing in his eyes, and for a moment, the nerves and adrenaline of the race melted into pure joy. “You really stole the show today, didn’t you?”

Finally, you climbed onto the podium, greeted by the deafening cheers of the crowd below. Mark Webber handed you the trophy, his eyes twinkling with pride. You hugged him tightly in thanks, feeling the warmth of his support. Taking a deep breath, you held the trophy close, leaning in to spit on it before kissing it, a ritual honoring your dad. As you lifted it high, tears pricked your eyes, the weight of the moment crashing down on you. This victory was yours, but it was his too, and you wished he were here to see it.

Before you could gather your thoughts, a jet of icy champagne hit your shoulder, and you yelped, spinning around to see Lando grinning mischievously, the bottle in hand. Laughter bubbled out of you as you grabbed a nearby bottle, spraying him back with equal enthusiasm. “You’re going to pay for that!” you shouted, both of you drenched in the celebratory chaos.

Once the festivities quieted, you sat down on the edge of the podium, the trophy still cradled in your arms, letting the crowd’s cheers fade to a distant hum. The reality of it all was slowly settling in, the magnitude of what you’d achieved filling every corner of your mind like a warm glow.

Then you felt a presence beside you. Charles plopped down on one side, ruffling your hair with a proud grin. “Look at you, superstar,” he said, unable to hide his admiration. On your other side, Lando joined you, patting your back. “I knew you could do it! The legend of Yn Ln begins now!” The three of you sat there in comfortable silence, gazing out at the sea of fans, feeling the victory settle into your bones, the warmth of friendship and accomplishment wrapping around you like a cozy blanket.

“Have you guys heard from Max?”

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The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a golden glow over the superyacht as the drivers celebrated the Australian Grand Prix victory. Laughter and music floated across the water, mingling with the soft sounds of waves lapping against the hull. You arrived fashionably late, the buzz of excitement already palpable in the air. As you stepped aboard, the chatter momentarily faded, and all eyes turned to you.

“Ladies and gentlemen, your Australian GP winner!” Lando’s voice rang out, booming over the crowd like a proud announcement. Cheers erupted, a chorus of claps and whoops filling the air, and you couldn’t help but laugh as you raised your trophy high above your head, the gleam of victory shining in your eyes.

“Thank you, thank you!” you called out playfully, the thrill of the moment making your heart race. The warmth of the celebration enveloped you, and as you mingled with your friends, you noticed Lando leaning against the railing, a playful scowl on his face. He shot you a stink eye, as if to say How dare you win before me?

With a grin, you sauntered over, wrapping your arms around him. “What’s wrong, Lando? Jealous?” you teased, planting a quick kiss on his cheek, your lips brushing against his skin. He feigned annoyance, but you could see the corners of his mouth twitching upward despite himself.

“Just surprised you didn’t trip over your own trophy on the way here,” he shot back, but the light in his eyes betrayed him. You giggled and hugged him tighter, savouring the moment before excusing yourself. “I need to find Max,” you said, waving as you slipped away from the group.

Navigating through the crowd, you spotted Max in a quiet corner, leaning against the wall with that familiar, soft smile. As you approached, his eyes lit up, warmth radiating from him like a cozy fire. Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace.

“Hey, you,” you greeted, your voice a whisper amidst the sounds of the party.

“Hey yourself,” he replied, his eyes glinting with admiration. He reached up, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You were amazing out there today.”

“Congratulations, Yn,” he murmured, his voice low and full of admiration. His honey-brown eyes softened as he looked at you, and you felt a flutter in your chest at the intensity of his gaze. It was as if the world around you faded, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble.

“Thanks, Max,” you replied, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. “It means a lot coming from you.” You could see the pride written all over his face, and it filled you with a sense of warmth.

He reached up, his fingers gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and your breath caught for a moment. “You look amazing up there. Like a true champion,” he said softly. Then, with a playful glint in his eyes, he added, “Not that I’m surprised or anything.”

“Did you have fun out there?” he asked after a moment, his voice low and soft, filled with genuine interest. You could feel his warmth radiating through you, those honey feeling blue eyes melting any lingering stress.

“More than I ever expected,” you replied, pulling back slightly to meet his gaze. You couldn’t help but admire how the moonlight caught his features, making his smile even more captivating.

In a moment of tenderness, he gently lifted a stray lock of hair from your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. Then, with the hair tie he had saved from earlier—more like stole from your room from when you two had dinner together—he deftly gathered your hair into a loose ponytail. “There,” he said, satisfaction evident in his tone. “Now you’re ready to celebrate.”

You chuckled, warmth flooding your cheeks. “You’re the best, Max.” Your eyes locked, and for a heartbeat, the world around you faded, leaving just the two of you in your own little universe. The noise of the party felt like a distant echo, the laughter and music muted by the magic of the moment.

“You know where the Red Bull fridge is?” You ask, taking his hand and pulling him to the rest of the party.

“You are an addict.” Max laughed as he followed along.

As the celebration continued, the music pulsed in the background, but you found a cozy corner on the yacht, curling up on a plush couch with your trophy nestled against your chest. You were half-awake, a blissful haze of exhilaration and a few too many drinks swirling in your mind. The trophy felt heavy yet comforting, a tangible reminder of your victory and the legacy behind it.

Max wandered through the yacht, searching for you among the revelers. Spotting your familiar figure sprawled out on the couch, a gentle smile spread across his face. He quietly made his way over, sitting beside you, careful not to disturb your peaceful slumber. His fingers instinctively reached out, brushing through your hair with a tender, soothing motion.

You stirred slightly at his touch, eyes fluttering open to find him gazing down at you with a soft, affectionate expression. “Hey,” he said quietly, as if afraid to break the tranquility of the moment. “What are you doing down here all alone?”

“Mmm . . . just reminiscing,” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleepiness. “It’s just . . everything feels so unreal.” You shifted slightly, hugging the trophy tighter as a sleepy smile spread across your face. “I was thinking about my dad.”

Max’s heart softened at the mention of your father. “What about him?”

You took a deep breath, the memories flooding back, sparkling with nostalgia. “You know how the Australian GP was always our favorite? We used to come here every year.” A giggle escaped your lips, your mind drifting back to sun-soaked days. “He would always say, ‘This is where legends are made, Yn!’ and I would dream about being on that podium one day.”

Max listened intently, his fingers still weaving through your hair, his gaze locked onto your face as you spoke. “We’d spend the whole week surfing, chasing the waves. He’d push me to go bigger, to not be afraid. I can still hear him cheering for me, ‘Go on, my little champion!’” Your eyes sparkled with fondness, but there was a hint of sadness that Max caught.

“Did you surf today?” he asked gently, wanting to keep the conversation flowing, to draw you deeper into those cherished memories.

You shook your head slowly. “Nah, I didn’t. Too busy racing, I guess.” A small laugh escaped you. “But it doesn’t matter. I feel like I brought a piece of him with me today. Winning here... it’s like I finally made it happen. I know he’s proud.”

Max’s heart swelled as he absorbed your words. “He is, Yn. You did something incredible today. I could see it in your eyes out there.” He brushed a thumb against your cheek, his gaze unwavering. “You’ve honored his legacy.”

You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand grounding you. “Thanks, Max. I really needed this. You have no idea how much it means to me.”

In that quiet moment, as you shared your memories, a profound connection blossomed between you two, weaving your past into the present. Max leaned a little closer, whispering softly, “I’ll always be here to remind you of how amazing you are. You’re more than just a champion—you’re a force.”

With a sleepy smile, you closed your eyes again, allowing yourself to drift off once more, comforted by his presence. The gentle rhythm of his fingers in your hair lulled you into a peaceful state, the chaos of the party fading into the background as you felt safe, cherished, and deeply understood.