#garnet x reade

[stevenuniversestoryart]

I swear Ruby is shorter than Y/n-

[phoenix-flamed]

Me, fondly remembering my playthroughs of FFVII, VIII, IX, X, X-2, and XII: I don't need more blogs I don't need more blogs I don't need more blogs I do --

Though if I did RP as anyone, it'd hands-down be Beatrix from IX.

[peachylynnie]

sick

word count: 1.8k

synopsis: in which sylus sneaks into your apartment and finds you sick. yet, you're not resting. why?

contains: sylus x mc!reader (they're not dating but sylus is pining and reader is confused), reader is implied to be in college, slightly obsessive sylus, mentions of violence and sickness, suggestive themes, cussing, and fluff.

a/n: i got sick yesterday. what better way to rest than to write about sylus? do NOT copy or steal my work. sylus WOULD NOT endorse plagiarism :)

you don't want to admit it. you really don't. but you're sick. there's no denying that with how short of breath you are, how nauseous you feel, and the goddamn soreness in the back of your throat that didn't go away with the first sip of water.

"shit…" you mumble as you sluggishly move to empty the dishwasher as your roommate asked. it's bad enough that you were sick, but you were also stressed out of your mind. midterms have been kicking your ass this semester. big assignments have been piling up on your already heavy shoulders. in essence, this was a burnout month, and all that lack of sleep and unparalleled stress had finally caught up to you. in the form of a cold, that is.

"of all the times," you grumble as you struggle to stack the dishes in the cabinet. "why now…" indeed, this was a terrible time to get sick. how were you to complete all your tasks while feeling absolutely miserable? you glance at the microwave clock in desperation. 10:00 PM, it read. although you meant to sigh a breath of relief, you let out a painful cough. maybe you could finish an assignment or two by midnight. that way, you can focus on studying tomorrow, you thought to yourself.

you sniff as you return to the dishwasher to unload the rest of the dishes. as much as you were happy for your roommate leaving for the weekend to finally see her family, you couldn't help but feel resentful. why were you here struggling to do the dishes while she got to have fun? shaking your head at your bitter thoughts, you bend down, trying to grab the utensils from the dishwasher. keyword: trying.

the sudden pair of strong arms that wrapped around you prevented you from doing so. normally, you would've swiftly elbowed the person behind you and turned around to land a hard blow that would have them seeing stars. instead, you exhale shakily. you recognize the mysterious backhugger's scent. the scent of sweet wine and sharp citrus. sylus.

how the hell did he get in? you don’t remember giving him a spare key when you told him your address. you look behind you, angling your head to meet his garnet eyes. "i did not give you my address just so you can sneak in like this," you say, trying your best not to sound like you're dying.

unfortunately, the nasal tone of your voice does not go unnoticed by sylus. instead of offering his usual quips, sylus furrows his brows and unclasps his right arm from your waist. you try not to flinch at the chill of his slender fingers touching your forehead. he frowns. "you're sick."

you immediately avert your gaze. "i'm not sick," you mutter as you try to bend down once more to grab the stupid utensils from the dishwasher. sylus doesn't let go. this time, he spins you around with his left arm, making sure that he can see you properly.

"you're burning up, sweetie." sylus says as flips the hand on your forehead for good measure. "you're sick and you know it."

you roll your eyes, squirming to get out of his grip. you did not want sylus to see you like this. a sick, miserable mess incapable of doing something as simple as emptying the dishwasher. you had an image to uphold after all. being vulnerable with someone like him could mean getting hurt again. last time you were vulnerable with someone… well, let's say you learned your lesson.

weakly, you push at sylus' arm around your waist with your small hands. you try not to think about how minuscule they looked next to sylus' deliciously veiny forearms. great, you're sick, and your mind decides to lust after sylus' arms. you shiver at your thoughts and attempt to push sylus' grip away once more. normally, escaping sylus' hold would be a reasonable task for you. after all, your sparring sessions with him prepared you to get out of sticky situations. but you were sick and exhausted out of your mind. all you could manage was a feeble squirm.

sylus' gaze moves from his hand on your forehead to your eyes. your half-lidded baggy eyes. his frown deepens. you looked extremely fatigued. your face was noticeably pale, and your intake of breath was short. not to mention, sylus could see the slight wince of pain whenever you tried to swallow your saliva. sylus sighs as he removes his hand on your forehead and replaces it with his own. you were neglecting yourself again.

under normal circumstances, you would've shied away from sylus' physical advancements. his hand on the small of your back? an immediate flinch and glare, signaling him to stop. a tap on the crown of your head? a swift jerk of your neck and avoidance of eye contact. instead—again, you blame it on your exhaustion—you tiredly close your eyes, relishing in sylus' cool forehead against your heated one. no resistance to be shown.

you don't see it, but sylus' sharp eyes soften at the sight of you accepting his touch. even with the eye bags and ghastly skin, you looked ethereal. like an angel sent from heaven to save him from his own solitary hell. as much as he wants to savor this moment of you finally giving into his touch, sylus knows what he must do. you're unwell and unrested. you need to be in bed immediately.

"you should be in bed, sweetie." sylus murmurs as he pulls away from your forehead. you try not to sulk at the loss of the soothing chill of his skin. though, not without feeling conflicted because why you would even sulk about him? for god's sake, he was a criminal. he's taken countless lives. not to mention, he choked you upon meeting you, called you a disappointment, and tried to alter you after three straight days of relentless attempts at a forced resonation… just thinking about him drives you nuts and being driven nuts is the last thing you want right now.

"i'm fine, sylus." it was your turn to pull away, trying to put as much distance between you two as his firm grip around your waist would allow. "besides, nothing a little old tea can't fix."

with that, you turn to face the dishwasher and reach for the utensils for the umpteenth time of the night. sylus sighs and pinches his nose bridge with his free hand. as much as he admired your stubbornness, he could not help but resent it at times like these. times when you were in desperate need of a break. before you can grab the utensils, you feel yourself get lifted off the ground effortlessly.

sylus' arm on your waist had moved to your shoulder, and his other arm was hooked under your thighs. he had you in bridal style in less than a second. your eyes widen, realizing the sudden change in positions. "what are you doing?!" you cough painfully. "put me down!"

you do your best to escape sylus' new grip on you by kicking your legs and squirming uncontrollably, but it was hopeless. you were weakened due to your sickness, and sylus was determined to make sure you looked only at him instead of the goddamn dishwasher. one more look at it, and he swears he's gonna break it with his evol.

quickly and confidently, sylus exits the kitchen with you in his arms and arrives at what he guesses is your shared bedroom with your roommate. he tries not to get distracted by the fact that this is his first time in your room. god, the entire space smelled so much like you, he wanted to become one with it and watch you forever and ever. dismissing his intrusive thoughts, sylus gently places you down on your bed and starts to cover you in your blanket.

"wait, sylus," you start, trying to get up. "i have to empty the dishwasher. i have homework, too." sylus tuts as he shakes his head, his messy silver locks following suit. although he doesn't respond, sylus continues to spread out your blanket. you furrow your eyebrows at his strange behavior. "sylus…" you whine. you actually whined. something you never thought you would do, especially in front of sylus. you could feel his intense gaze prick at you like little needles. you avoid his gaze, hoping to hide your flustered state.

adorable. that's what you are. incredibly adorable to the point sylus wants to grab your chin and force you to look at him as he coaxes more and more of your pretty whines out of you.

trying to fight his indecent thoughts, sylus locks eyes with you, a firm yet pleading look on his face. "you need to rest, sweetie," he leans in to adjust your pillow. "you won't get anything done in this state." you try to protest again, but sylus beats you to it. "rest. i'll take care of everything."

well, fuck. how can you say no when sylus, in all of his gorgeous glory, is centimeters from your face, telling you that he will take care of everything and asking you to do the one thing you've been longing to do for a very long time? besides, you felt sleepy ever since sylus took you in his arms. just this once. just this once, you'll allow yourself to be vulnerable with him. so that you can rest, of course. totally not because sylus had a way of comforting you so sweetly and breaking your defensive walls so charmingly.

your labored breathing slows as you cautiously nod. "fine," you yawn. "the utensils go in the very left drawer of the island while the pots and pans go in the stove oven, and…" you can feel sleep beckoning for you as you continue to list instructions. sylus can't help the grin that appears on his face as he watches your cute blinks grow in intervals.

"noted, sweetie." he caresses a stray hair strand out of your face. "i'll make sure everything is back where they belong." like you to him. though, he doesn't say that part out loud. maybe another day. when you are no longer wary of him and are willing to acknowledge his very obvious affection for you. deep in his fantasy, sylus almost misses your cute snores. he chuckles, taking this chance to admire you now that you've fallen asleep.

you truly were an angel. the way your eyebrows furrowed here and there in your sleep. the way your plump lips parted at times. the way your button nose twitched sporadically. oh, sylus loved it all. he could watch you sleep forever. but he had a better task at hand: to take care of you. he assured you that he would take care of everything. and sylus is a man of his words. carefully to not wake you, sylus cups your face with his right hand. closing his eyes, he places a delicate kiss on your forehead.

"rest well, sweetie. i'll see you soon."

[novelbeetle]

The impulse to quit my job and move to a remote small town somewhere in the US or Canada is really BIG at the moment. Maybe reading Indigo Ridge a small town romance doesn‘t help.

But seriously who wouldn‘t want to move somewhere start all over and fall in love?

[hongcherry]

pretty please (just this once) || c.sc

Seungcheol comes to visit you while you're working on a photo shoot; however, he ends up staying after you ask him for a favor.

🍒 Pairing: businessWorker!Seungcheol x fashionDesigner!Reader (f) 🍒 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Fluff, slice of life; Non-idol au, Pretty Please couple 🍒 Warnings: Suggestive content and allusions to sexual activities 🍒 Word Count: 4.1k 🍒 Timeline: This takes place before "love me," but you don't need to read that prior to this. 🍒 Author’s Note: Happy (almost) weekend! As planned, here's another installment of the Pretty Please universe ♥️ I'm excited to publish the next one! Spoiler: It's a two-parter 😉

pretty please masterpost | seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

this blog is 18+. minors do not interact. plz & ty! (ageless/minors/blanks blogs will be blocked)

“He did what?”

Your hands still and eyes narrow at Yumi, irritation quickly growing upon hearing the bad news.

“Apparently, he accidentally double-booked himself,” Yumi explains as calmly as she can.

Your eyes roll before you can stop them, hands dropping from the garnet you were working on.

Prior to booking your model, you had triple-checked both your schedules to ensure they aligned. Now, hearing that he canceled an hour before the shoot, has steam shooting out your ears.

Sure, you can reschedule, but you have already rented the space and have a deadline to meet for the photos. Additionally, you can no longer trust your old model to show up anymore.

“Of course he did,” you scoff and grab your phone. You’re not sure what you are going to do with it, but you grab it on instinct. Maybe subconsciously you think you can call in another model, but you doubt it due to the short time frame.

Sensing your thoughts, Yumi says, “Maybe there’s still someone available.”

Huffing, you throw your hands in the air in exasperation.

“Fine. Let’s try,” you say and unlock your phone to begin trying to get another model.

Not a second later, the door to the dressing room opens.

“Hey, ba—What’s wrong?”

Seungcheol slows his steps when he sees the tell-tale sign of distress on your face.

“What are you doing here?” you wonder, voice gentler but still on edge.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he replies, lifting up a bag of what you suspect are yummy goodies.

Your heart does a little flip despite you wanting it to. You had never considered yourself a hopeless romantic, but the small gesture tugs on your emotions.

“Thanks, it’s just—” You begin to say but a poke on your arm stops you. You glance at Yumi, whose eyes are flicking between you and Seungcheol. You can tell there’s an idea brewing in her head.

“What about him?” she whispers, but there’s no other sound in the room to cover her voice.

“What about him?” you repeat.

“He can be our solution!”

Your eyes widen slightly in realization, then you’re shaking your head.

“He doesn’t have experience,” you explain.

Yumi frowns. “At this point, we just need a good face. And look at him,” she pauses to gesture to Seungcheol. He stands with his head slightly cocked in confusion.

“He’s perfect.”

Your lips purse as you take in your boyfriend. There’s no doubt that he’s handsome, and his build is impressive… But what would your boss say if she sees someone unknown in the fashion world in the photos? She has a policy about not using rookies in her shoots. Though at the same time, what would she say if you didn’t get anyone at all?

You’re at an odds.

“What’s going on, Cherry?” Seungcheol questions.

You sigh for what seems like the tenth time.

“Our model quit on us last minute,” you disclose.

“You don’t have a backup?”

His question brings forth more irritation; however, that stems from self-anger than anger directed at him. You should’ve known better.

“Unfortunately, not, but,” Yumi trails off and she glances at you for approval.

It’s not like Seungcheol doesn’t have the looks, but he’s never done this before and what if he feels uncomfortable? Though, your hands are tied and you’ve already lost time.

You rub your lips together before finishing Yumi’s sentence.

“Since you’re here, would you mind stepping in?”

Seungcheol cocks an eyebrow up.

“You want me to be your model?” he asks in disbelief.

“You have the looks,” you shrug, trying to hide the smile that wants to form when he averts his gaze shyly.

“I’m not sure,” he fades off.

“Please? Just this once? We’ll guide you,” you offer some reassurance.

Seungcheol glances at the door as if imagining himself at the setup out there. 

PDA isn’t something you favor, but since it’s only you three in the room, you decide to test your luck. You step forward and guide his face back to yours. Your thumb brushes over his cheek gently.

“You’d really be helping me out, babe,” you plead.

He still looks unsure. 

You give him a peck on the lips. “Please?”

Seungcheol’s free hand squeezes your waist.

“Fine. What do I need to do?” He sighs.

You grin and give him another kiss. His hand moves to your lower back to pull you closer. Not wanting the kiss to last too long, you pull away after three seconds.

You straighten your clothes as if wiping away your embarrassment.

Yumi watches with a mix of surprise and delight. You’re unsure of their origins, but you get the hint it’s from seeing this new side of you.

You met Yumi on your first day of work a few months ago. She’s interning at the company, learning from fellow fashion designers and event coordinators. You don’t always work with her on projects, but she was assigned to this one with you as the lead.

You weren’t sure what to think of Yumi in the beginning; however, you’ve learned to like her. She is hard-working and passionate—two things you can relate to.

After clearing your throat, you instruct, “Tell the photographer to be ready in thirty.”

Yumi lingers in the room, eyes moving between you and Seungcheol, then she leaves.

You let out a breath when the door closes.

Yumi was aware you had a partner, but she’s never seen or met Seungcheol. You guess she doesn’t need an introduction now.

“I’ll take that,” you say and grab the bag from Seungcheol’s hands. You take a peek inside and see a bowl of noodles and veggies. Your tummy growls.

“When was the last time you ate?” Seungcheol wonders.

You set the bag down and move to the clothes rack.

“It’s been a while,” you answer vaguely. “Take off your clothes.”

“Cherry, you can’t starve yours—”

“I’m not. I’ll eat soon,” you interrupt.

When you see Seungcheol studying you rather than stripping in your peripheral, you turn to him with a frown.

“Seungch—”

“I know, I need to change, but your health is important,” he scolds lightly.

“So is this photoshoot,” you reply. You take off a few pieces from the rack and transfer it to an empty one.

Seungcheol reaches out to grab your arm.

“Baby,” he calls for your attention.

You look at him.

“At least eat a little while I change,” he suggests.

“I need to get hair and makeup—”

Seungcheol leans in and shuts you up with a kiss.

Your body wants to melt into his touch, but you force yourself to stay alert. Now’s not the time.

You gently push his chest to pull away.

“Eat,” he says.

Sighing, you relent with a nod. Just the smell of the dish is making your mouth water. You know he’s right. 

You gesture to the clothes and Seungcheol nods in understanding.

Once he starts changing, you text Yumi to inform her of your outfit choice and for the hair and makeup crew to get ready. Then, you sit on the couch and open the noodle meal Seungcheol brought.

Your boyfriend, now without his shirt, smiles at you—pleased to see you doing as he said.

Your gaze meets his, and your heart skips a beat. He looks too good shirtless. It doesn’t matter that you’ve seen it before; it still has an effect on you.

Seungcheol chuckles at your reaction and removes his pants.

“Lucky you, Cherry. You get lunch and a show,” he teases.

You roll your eyes in lieu of showing you flustered.

“Change faster,” you huff after you swallow a bite.

Seungcheol grins bigger, taking the pants on the rack and stepping into one leg.

“Afraid of what’ll happen if I stay naked for too long?” he taunts.

“You’re not naked,” you mumble, eating again.

“Bet you wish I was though.” He smirks.

You send him a not-so-deadly glare. 

Unaffected by your stare, he chuckles and finishes changing. Luckily, the hair and makeup people come in a minute after he fastens the last button on his shirt.

The outfit is a plain, all-black trousers and suit jacket, but Seungcheol fits the outfit perfectly. He suits formal wear extremely well.

The hair stylist gives him a wet-haired look and the makeup artist keeps it simple.

You hurry and finish half your food so you can check on the crew in the main studio. Thankfully, they’ve finished getting ready without any hiccups.

The door to the dressing room opens and Seungcheol comes to stop beside you. He may feel out of place, but he doesn’t look like it. You stare at him a little too long before adjusting the outfit. Though, there’s not much to adjust. You’re just worrying. 

“You sure about this?” you ask.

“Ah, not really,” he answers hesitantly, “but if it helps you, then I’ll be fine.”

Three words sit on your tongue, but you can’t find the courage to say them. It’s not that you don’t believe them, but there are people in hearing range, and saying it has always felt awkward to you.

Seungcheol gives you a reassuring smile. You know he wants to kiss you by the way he keeps glancing at your lips, but you appreciate that he respects your boundaries. Especially while you’re at work.

The photographer guides him to sit on the leather armchair. Seungcheol does so stiffly.

“Try to relax and look into the lens,” they instruct. “Pretend you’re a wealthy, overly confident CEO.”

Seungcheol nods and leans against the armrest. It looks almost unnatural.

Even though there’s music playing, the sounds of the camera feel extra loud. You peer at the monitor and watch as the pictures begin to appear.

The photographer moves to different angles. Seungcheol shifts a bit as he follows the camera.

After a few more shots, the photographer tilts their head.

“Let’s try resting your chin on your hand,” they say.

Seungcheol follows, but there’s still something off. You can tell the photographer thinks so too from their slightly furrowed brows and downturned lips.

Seungcheol’s not oblivious to everyone’s reaction. He becomes more rigid and mimics everyone’s small frown.

You rub your lips together in thought. Maybe Seungcheol really wasn’t the best choice. He has the looks, but the photos are not coming across well.

“Let’s take five,” you call out, walking toward the setup and stopping at the edge of the backdrop.

“Follow me,” you tell Seungcheol and turn on your heel. You hear Seungcheol excuse himself as he stands from his chair.

You guide him back to the dressing room and find it empty.

“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol says as soon as he shuts the door. “I’m trying, but it’s weird having everyone stare at me.”

You lean against the built-in vanity counter with your hands resting on it. You stare long enough without a word for Seungcheol to apologize again.

You know you can’t blame him. It’s uncomfortable to try something new in front of strangers. However, it’s too late to try to get a model. Either you deal with the unsatisfactory photos or you try to knock some confidence in Seungcheol. You go for the latter.

“Don’t apologize,” you sigh and walk to him. “I’ll ask them to leave.”

“It’s fine,” he mumbles.

You raise your hands to his shoulders and begin massaging the knots out. His shoulders slowly begin to deflate. 

“Try to focus on something besides the camera,” you suggest.

His frown deepens. “That’s hard to do when I’m supposed to look at it.”

You take a step closer, gaze lingering on the deep v the suit jacket makes.

“Then maybe imagine it’s me,” you reply, a hand trailing down. Your fingertips graze his exposed chest.

“You?” he asks with an airy voice.

“Yeah,” you smile and trace shapes on his skin lightly. Seungcheol’s pupils begin to dilate.

“What about you?” he asks.

Your eyes flicker to his. There’s mischief in them before you speak that causes Seungcheol to hold his breath.

“Use your imagination,” you tease.

As you’re about to pull away, Seungcheol grabs your waist and flushes your body against his. His mouth captures yours, fingers slipping under your shirt to touch your bare skin.

The simple touch makes your heart thump faster against your ribcage and your knees feel weak. 

“Cheol,” you mumble against his lips, grabbing his hands. He hums and stays pressed against you.

You try to tear his hands off you, but he persists. Granted, you didn’t try too hard.

“I miss you,” he says in the kiss.

You know you shouldn’t, but you lax in his arms. Despite seeing him nearly every night, you haven’t spent much time with him. It’s a busy season for you both at work and by the time you get home, both of you want to sleep.

You’ve missed his kisses and attention more than you realize.

A knock at the door jerks you away.

“Just wanted to let you know everyone’s back,” Yumi says from the other side of the door.

You clear your throat and step from Seungcheol who’s tempting you by just standing near.

“Thanks,” you reply. “We’ll be out in a moment.”

“Okay,” Yumi says.

You listen to her steps fade before looking at Seungcheol. He’s already straightened out his clothes.

“You good?” you ask.

“No, I could really use more alone time.”

You sigh. “Seungcheol.”

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles. “I’m ready.”

You hum, turning to leave but stop with your hand hovering over the handle.

“Something wrong, Cherry?” Seungcheol asks behind you.

You bite your lip and spin around. You quickly lean in and give him another kiss.

“For luck,” you explain, then exit the room before he can do anything and before you cave into his touches. 

Seungcheol follows shortly after, standing a little taller and looking less awkward.

You watch as the photographer guides Seungcheol back into the chair.

“Okay, just think about the CEO thing,” they remind.

Seungcheol nods and rolls his shoulders. He’s a little stiff again at first, but after a few pictures, he loosens up.

At the start, you watch the monitor as the pictures appear, but your eyes end up gravitating toward the live shoot.

Seungcheol catches your gaze. Something stirs in your belly, and you watch as he shifts to sit lower in the chair and spreads his legs. He leans his head back slightly, keeping his eyes on yours. He really could pass as a well-known CEO. He has the looks, the aura, and the work ethic. For the briefest moments, you wonder how successful Seungcheol will be in the future.

“Oh, I love that! Let’s try moving lower, put a leg out,” the photographer instructs.

Seungcheol keeps his expression the same but does as told. He hangs one arm off the side of the chair while the other stays beside him.

“That’s great! Now, eyes on the camera,” they say.

Seungcheol tears his eyes from you to the lens. You release a silent breath you didn't know you were holding.

You can’t help your eyes trailing down his body slouched on the chair.

Seungcheol shifts once more to rest a hand on the top of his thigh. The subtle change makes your mind race with thoughts of being kneeled between his legs. You curse mentally, changing weight to your other hip and looking at the monitor again.

Though that doesn’t help.

Since he’s looking at the camera, his stare bores into yours through the screen. If you didn’t know him, you’d think he’d done this before.

“He looks good,” Yumi whispers beside you.

You turn to her, unable to hide the small pang of jealousy that bursts in your chest.

Yumi laughs and shakes her hands in the air.

“Not like that,” she says, a hint of humor to her tone. “I mean, he looks good enough to make the boss woman happy.”

“Ah. Right,” you mumble.

She smiles and nudges your shoulder, eyes on Seungcheol still posing. You move your gaze to him as well.

He’s sat up now, legs still spread but looking down at the camera. You push away the memories of seeing him in a similar position in private. 

“Though I can’t say you aren’t lucky,” Yumi adds. “He sure is handsome.”

“Yeah. He is,” you murmur. For the first time, you scan the audience, noticing how many of the people watch on with interest. 

“I think we have enough of these,” the photographer announces and turns to you.

Seungcheol stands and follows the photographer toward you.

“Great,” you say, snapping out of your thoughts and reining in your lurking jealousy. “We have enough time for a quick wardrobe change and a few more pictures.”

“Sounds good,” the photographer says.

“Come,” you instruct Seungcheol.

You get him changed and his makeup adjusted quickly. You had a few more outfit options, but with the fiasco earlier, you’ve run out of time to try them all.

You lead Seungcheol back to the set, not having much time to take a break.

You watch from the sidelines again as the photographer guides Seungcheol into different poses and expressions.

Seungcheol has gone into character, following the photographer’s instructions with as much ease as he can for an amateur. Which, to be fair, seems to be above average. You’re surprised to see him doing so well.

By the time they’re done, you only have twenty minutes left of your rented space.

The photographer gives you a flash drive with the photos and let’s you know you have a week to pick your favorite ones so they can edit them. Normally, the photographer would keep the photos and select the best ones themselves, but since this photographer works within the same company, things are a little different.

The hair and makeup team have already cleared out their stuff from the dressing room when you walk in with Seungcheol.

You sit on the couch and grab your laptop, inserting the USB drive into the slot and opening the photos.

“These turned out really good, Cheol,” you praise enthusiastically as you swipe through the photos.

Seungcheol glances up from unbuttoning his shirt. “I guess your advice worked then.”

“What advice?” you ask, distracted with studying the images.

You don’t hear Seungcheol move closer until he grabs the laptop and sets it aside. You look at him confused.

“You said to imagine the camera was you,” he replied.

Your words flood back into your brain. “O-Oh.”

He chuckles.

“I’m glad it worked,” you say, ignoring the pounding of your heart.

He raises an eyebrow. “You don’t wanna know what I was thinking about?”

“You already said me,” you reply hesitantly.

Seungcheol slowly rests his hands on the back of the couch, caging you in. You stare up at him—excited and nervous for his answer.

“You, in that sheer cherry lingerie… wearing that necklace I gave you on our first month anniversary,” he says lowly, deep voice luring you in.

Your mind races with the memory of showing him that for the first time. Warmth floods your chest and goes south recalling how many times you had cum that night. You hadn’t expected him to get so worked up at the sight, but you didn’t complain.

“You were a great inspiration,” he whispers and leans down closer. His lips hover over yours, a smirk on them.

“Kiss me like you want to,” he says.

You curse at him silently. It’s not that you don’t want to, but knowing he knows how badly you want it, makes you stay still.

“I think you want it more,” you reply.

He chuckles and slowly retracts himself. He shrugs, taking off his shirt and placing it on a hanger.

“Where should this go?” he asks.

You swallow the lump in your throat and point to the rack to the left.

He eyes you for a moment longer before setting the hanger on the rack. You know he’s amused by your loss of words.

When he starts unbuttoning his pants, you shoot up from the couch.

“I’m going to make sure everything’s okay out there,” you announce and then swiftly walk toward the door.

“Hey, now,” Seungcheol calls out, grabbing your wrist and gently spinning you into his arms. His hands rest on your hips while yours flatten against his bare, muscular chest.

“You can’t leave me, pretty girl,” he says.

“I—I think you can get dressed without me,” you reply, trying to escape his hold.

“I don’t know,” he hums. He trails his hands up your body and grabs your hands. He pushes them down to the top of his already unbuttoned pants.

“Lend me a hand?” he questions darkly.

“We can’t do anything,” you warn, worried someone will come in.

“I know,” he says with a subtle frown, “but I just… wanna be close to you for a bit.”

Your chest clutches knowing he’s feeling the same about your busy schedules. You’re surprised he’s been here for so long.

“You’re not busy?” you ask, starting to carefully push his pants down his thighs. Your hands brush against his skin, making you yearn for more.

“I had some meetings get canceled,” he explains and watches you lean down slightly to get the rest of the pants off. He steps out of them.

You pick them up and start hanging them when Seungcheol wraps his arms around you from behind. You suck in a breath when you feel his growing bulge against you.

“Sorry,” he mumbles into your neck.

You place the hanger on the rack and turn in his arms.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, finally giving in to the kiss you wanted earlier.

Seungcheol holds you tighter, making you feel him more and causing arousal to shoot downward. It’s been too long since you’ve felt him fill you. You whimper into the kiss accidentally at the mere thought.

“Fuck, you’re making this hard,” he groans while pulling away.

You giggle, dazed by his kiss. “I know.”

He chuckles and rests his forehead against yours.

“That’s not what I meant,” he mutters.

You lean in to peck his lips again.

“I know,” you repeat. “You’re making this hard too.”

And how could he not when he’s kissing you heavenly and pressing up against you with his near-naked body—one that’s a sight for sore eyes.

“Let’s go on a date this weekend,” he suggests, hands rubbing your sides.

“Really?” you ask. You know people go on dates on the whim—you don’t need a reason—yet the idea of one randomly still surprises you.

“Yeah. Wanna spend time with you,” he says and kisses you shortly. “Wanna see you get all dolled up just for me.”

You smile and wrap your arms around his waist. You press your cheek against his naked chest, basking in his embrace.

“I’d like that,” you reply.

“I knew you would,” he says and hugs you tightly. He gives your head a tender kiss, letting the moment run its course.

Although you’re still weary about being so intimate in a public setting, you can’t help but get lost in the desire to feel Seungcheol. To just have him here with you.

“I guess I better get dressed,” he says after a while.

You linger for just a moment, then slowly release him. You feel cold without his heated body against yours.

“You working late tonight?” he asks while changing back into his work suit.

You begin packing the clothes in garment bags.

“Hopefully not. Just my normal hours,” you answer. “And you?”

“Unfortunately,” he sighs.

You hide your frown and zip up the bags.

“How late?” you wonder, hanging the bags from your arms and grabbing your purse.

“Not too late this time. Maybe an hour or two?” he replies.

You nod.

Seungcheol, now dressed, takes the garment bags from your arm despite your protests.

“I’ll help you load your car, then I’ll get back,” he informs.

Nodding once more, you lead him out. There’s only three people lingering around, cleaning the area. You bid them goodbye and guide Seungcheol to your car. After everything is packed, Seungcheol hovers by your side.

“I hope your boss is happy with the photos,” he says.

“She better be,” you reply. “We had a handsome man modeling.”

He grins. “Oh, yeah? You got a crush on ‘em now?”

“A big one,” you tease.

Seungcheol chuckles and kisses your cheek. He seems to want to say something but hesitates.

“I’ll see you at home. Drive safe,” he finally says.

“You too, Cheol.”

Seungcheol opens your car door and makes sure you’re in safely before shutting it. He stays on the sidewalk to watch you depart. In your rearview mirror, you see him turn and head toward his car.

You wish he wasn’t walking in the other direction and hope the day goes by fast. You just want to be in his arms again.

A/N: How could I not take the opportunity to write about Seungcheol modeling with this couple??? Do you guys think this will be the last time PrettyPlease!Seungcheol does this for Cherry? 🫣

For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

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[alastor-simp]

Sickly Deer - Sick Alastor X Female Reader

❥Summary - Alastor is a very proud man, and he will almost never admit that something is wrong. However, you noticed he seemed a bit off today and wanted to know what was wrong?

❥Tags: Sick alastor, sick day, alastor becomes sick, female reader, reader takes care of a sick alastor, stubborn alastor, fluff , adorable fluff, taking care of someone sick

❥Notes: Always wanted to do a sick character story and I finally get to do one with Alastor.

Was a quiet day in the hotel today. Usually there was the occasional chaos, but surprisingly it was peaceful. Charlie and Vaggie were out shopping for groceries for the hotel. Angel was lounging in his room, relaxing with Fat Nuggets. Niffty was reading a book, most likely manga in the lounge room, with Husk taking a cat nap on the couch next to her. Sir Pentious was in his ship, crafting some devices with his egg bois.

You were lounging in the hotel library, enjoying some quiet time to yourself while reading. Well it was quiet for a second until you heard the sound of static-like cough coming from next to you. Alastor happened to be in the library as well, reading his weekly newspaper. He's usually very quiet when he reads, except with the occasional sound of humming or static. But this was new, as you almost never heard him cough or let alone sneeze for that matter. The coughing started slow, but then it kept getting rougher as he kept doing it, causing you to worry. "Hey Al?" Your eyes were gazing at him with concern. Alastor turned his head towards you, wearing his signature smile: “Yes? What is it my dear?” “Well, are you alright? I noticed you have been coughing a lot. Once you said that, Alastor let out a boisterous laugh. “Oh-ho! It is nothing my dear. Just a small tickle. Nothing to concern yourself with!” He waved his hand in the air, after he finished talking. You still felt unsure, but if he said it wasn’t a big deal, you wouldn’t question him.

How wrong you were, the more and more you saw Al throughout the day, the worse his cough got. Not only that, his face was slightly paler and a bit drenched with sweat. He still was acting like everything was alright, but you knew he was lying. Enough was enough. You caught up with Alastor, as he was walking down the hallway. “Alastor! Stop!” You yelled his name out. He stopped in front of you, and slowly turned around, head tilted in confusion. “You’re sick, aren’t you” Alastors face stayed neutral when you said that, but you knew you got him. “I told you already, my dear. It’s nothing to concern yourself with.” Alastor just smiled wider and turned away from you to continue walking. He was stopped again when he felt a hand grab one of his coat sleeves. His body grew tense and he turned back eerily, not appreciating you touching him. You gave him a strong look: “Well, I AM concerned. And you should be resting cause you’re only going to make it worse.” His garnet colored eyes locked on to yours, static in the air getting louder. “I am the radio demon, my dear. I do not get sick, so please remove your hand, n̸͚͇̏̉o̸̼̓ẇ̷̹̓.” His eyes flashed into radio dials for a split second, causing you to remove your hand from his sleeve quickly. “Thank you. Now then, I shall take my leave.” He turned back around and began to walk away from you. As you were watching him walk away, you noticed he drew to a stop again. His body was still up, but then he began to fall forward. “AL!”

**Alastor POV**

“Ugh….huh?” Alastors eyes opened slowly. He recognized he was in his hotel room as the ceiling was covered in grassy moss and leaves, as he was the one to change it due to his magic. He soon realized he was laying on his bed, wearing his pajamas as he slowly got up from lying down. He doesn’t recall heading back to his room, as his head was still a bit fuzzy. His head was throbbing and his throat was feeling sore. Alastor knew he was feeling sickly, but he refused to believe it. He hates to be perceived as weak, so he preferred to play it off that he was fine.

The sound of the door opening alerted him, causing him to look up. He sees you walking into his room, carrying a tray along with a plastic bag hanging from your arms. “Oh your awake? How are you feeling?” You bear a smile at him, as you walk closer to his bed, setting the tray down on the night stand. “How did I end up here?” Alastor questioned you, still confused at what happened. “You don’t remember?” Your eyes gazed at him back with concern. Alastor shook his head. “You fainted Al. I stopped you in the hallway cause I knew you were sick, but you said you were fine and as you walked away, you stopped and fell forward.” Al’s eyes widen at your statement, as he kept listening to you talk. “I carried you back to your room after that.” You gave him a small smile.

“I see. I’m sorry for the trouble you had to go through my dear, but I’m quite alright now.” Pulling the covers off, Al swung his feet to place them in the floor. He was stopped by a hand on his chest. “Oh no you don’t mister. You are staying in bed and getting better. Understand?” Your eyes were filled with determination. “My dear, I am qui-” “Understand?” His words were cut off by you. He continued to look at your face, seeing that you were refusing to budge. Heaving a sigh, he nodded his head. He positioned himself back to how he was on the bed. “Does anyone else know about my ailment?" He said, as you turned his head to look at you. You were removing some stuff out of the plastic bag and set them on the night stand before turning back to him. "The only ones who know are me and Niffty. No one else, I promise you. I had to tell her you were under the weather, and she told me to head to the store to get you some medicine while she made you some venison stew." Alastor continued to listen until he asked you another question: "Did you change me into my pajamas as well?" Your face flushed at that, and you shook your head no. "Your shadow happened to appear when I brought you to the bed. I told it to change you." Alastor just nodded his head at that, smiling at bit wider at your adorable reaction.

Grabbing one of the chairs from Al's desk, you brought it over to where his bed was and took a seat. Reaching for the bowl, you placed it on your lap. He observed you blow a bit on the spoon and hold it out to him, causing him to raise an eyebrow at you. "Come on Al. There's nothing wrong with me feeding you." Alastor sighed, and opened his mouth, allowing you to give him some of the stew that Niffty prepared. He was able to finish it all off, which pleased you. Placing the bowl back, you grabbed the medicine and a glass of water and handed it to him. Alastor grabbed it and quickly popped them in his mouth, chugging the water to get them down. Sighing, he laid back on the bed, placing his head on the pillow, turning it away from you. "I despise this feeling." He whispered that to himself, but you were able to pick up on it since you were still seated next to him. "What feeling?" you said back to him, tiling your head. "Alastor continued to look away. "The feeling of being sick. Makes me appear weak." Alastor grumbled out the response.

Alastor remained quiet after that. A hand was placed against his cheek, allowing his head to turn back towards you. His eyes widen at you, as he saw you wearing a kind smile. "You're not weak Alastor. Everyone gets sick from time to time, nothing wrong with it. Also, you should know the others would never think about that, they would rather you get some rest and get better." Your thumb stroked his cheek. Alastor listened to what you said and gave a sigh, closing his eyes. "I know, my dear. Just.....feels strange." Moving his hand, he placed it against the one on his cheek. "Thank you, my dear. If there comes a time where you are ailing, I will return the favor." His lips curved into a soft smile. He heard you chuckle, as your hand moved away from his cheek. "Get some rest, Al. I'll come back to check on you." Smiling, you got up from the chair, and grabbed the tray, heading over to the door. Alastor just watched you walk away, leaving his room, and closing the door. His eyes began to grow heavy, as his body started to relax, drifting into a deep sleep.

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[aemondsbabe]

Duty & Sacrifice | Claimant Pt 2

summary: your wedding to jace will happen whether you and aemond like it or not; even still, you know where you truly belong

pairing: dark!brother!aemond x sister!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, dark aemond, threats against jace, jace slander do not come at me you were warned, blood purest aemond like he's voldemort coded idk he loves that valyrian o neg, breeding kink, fingering, unprotected sex, piv sex, biting, brief hand on neck, possessive aemond, obsessive aemond, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 3.7k

a/n: big thank you to @rabbit-hearted for sending a request for more dark!aemond! i hope you enjoy!! dark aemond was a bit toned down in this one but he (and the reader) will be going unhinged psycho in part 3 uwu

gif creds to @aemondtargaryensource

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🔪read part 1 here!

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“Oh, you look absolutely beautiful, Princess,” your lady’s maid coos over your shoulder while she finishes tying the laces at the back of your gown, eliciting a chorus of echoing hums and titters of agreement from the other women fluttering about your chambers. 

“Thank you, Kella,” you murmur, meeting her gaze in the mirror, your lips stretched into a thin, tight smile. Even in your periphery, the sight of the ivory dress makes your stomach turn and twist into barbarous knots and you quickly glance away. You try to ignore the pang of guilt that eats at your heart as you keep your eyes trained on the shelves beside the mirror, silently reciting the name of each book stacked on them over and over again, anything to keep your mind occupied. 

It only halfway works, just as it had every time before – every other time you stood in this exact same spot as the tailor measured and fitted your dress, as you discussed hairstyles with your maids, as you chose jewelry with your mother. Helaena had spent weeks, hours upon hours, sewing bead after bead into the alabaster fabric, creating intricate patterns of florals giving way to flames, and you could hardly bring yourself to look at it. 

If I don’t look, it’s not real. If I don’t look, it’s not real, the words, foolish as they were, echoed in your mind for the millionth time as your maids added final touches to your outfit – sliding your feet into shoes and clasping on various ornate jewels. 

“Should we finish the hair first or get the cloak on first?” You hear one of your lady’s maids ask another, somewhere off to the side. 

“Mm, I think the cloak,” another one answers; you can hear the doors of your wardrobe being pulled open, “Her tiara may get snagged otherwise.”

Glimmers of red from the small garnet gemstones decorating your gown create bloody splotches in your periphery as morning sunlight filters through your windows; your mind begins to wander again despite your best efforts and crimson quickly gives way to hues of sapphire. Absent-mindedly, you dig your nails into your cuticles as you recall that night. The events play out behind your eyes like they have time and time again in the weeks between then and now – the pin-pricked chill you’d felt from his gaze, the way his whispered promises made your heart ache with a confusing whirlwind of longing and dread, the way his hands had felt against your skin. The sound of your blood pumping wildly in your veins drowns out any other noise as his voice echoes in your head. 

“Prove your devotion to me, my Strong girl,” he had commanded, directing your attention to the hilt of his dagger. And you had, the memories of it make you shiver even now. 

You had.

But it didn’t matter because here you are, clad in an ivory gown that may as well be a death shroud for all the joy it brings you.

“Princess?” A little gasp falls from your lips as you’re hoisted out of your reverie and your eyes finally focus on Kella standing before you, matching cloak in hand. 

“My apologies,” you say, managing a little chuckle, “I’m not sure where my head was at.” 

“No trouble, Princess,” Kella smiles, waving a hand dismissively, “I’m sure you’re eager to get the day started, marrying a prince and all.”

“Eager, yes,” you sigh, forced smile falling flat the second she looks away. The back of your throat tightens when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror and, for the umpteenth time today, you try desperately to ignore the urge to run – to sprint all the way to the Dragonpit, mount Silverwing, and go. Instead, you swallow down the sick feeling in your gut and compel yourself to be still as Kella drapes the cloak over your shoulders, the red silk underlining enveloping you in a sanguine veil. 

Just as she’s about to fasten it to the little ties at the shoulders of your gown, the doors to your chambers bang open, causing both of you to jump as your heads whip toward the sound of the noise. 

“Prince Aemond,” Kella says breathlessly, draping the cloak over an arm and curtsying politely. 

“Get out,” he murmurs lowly, violet eye not moving from yours as he stands at the doorway, arms tucked behind his back, “I wish to have a moment alone with my sister.” Your heart hammers so wildly that you’re amazed the sound of it doesn’t echo off the walls – that it doesn’t burst in your chest. 

You don’t miss the uncertain glances your maids give one another, though they ultimately nod their heads. A small chorus of, “Yes, your highness,” rises around you as they scurry from the room; Kella quickly drapes your cloak over the back of your vanity chair before leaving as well, the doors to your chambers closing behind her. 

Aemond quickly locks them, the barest hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips for a precious second as he does so, before turning to you. Your brows furrow as nervousness builds within you, nails digging into your cuticles as you desperately study the neutral expression on his face as he stalks toward you. 

“Don’t you look breathtaking, sweet sister,” his eye sweeps over your form as he speaks and you feel as if every ounce of air is pressed from your lungs when he gently grasps at your chin, angling your face up toward his when he comes to a stop before you. 

“How did you get in here?” You question, hating how feeble your voice sounds, how your heart slows the second he touches you. Your question is a valid one, though – your mother had taken great caution in the weeks following the night of your betrothal feast to keep you and your brother as separated as possible. 

He chuckles as he tilts your face to the side, exposing your neck. “Someone may have delivered an anonymous tip to Cole informing him of a supposed smallfolk revolt brewing in Flea Bottom,” you don’t miss the twitch of a victorious smile on his lips, “Of course, the Gold Cloaks had to attend to it – we wouldn’t want anything ruining such a… joyous day. Once they were gone, it was easy enough to slip from the Sept and make my way back here.”

“You’ve been planning,” his eye stays fixed on the ruby necklace clasped around your neck as you speak, though he hums in acknowledgement at your words. After another few seconds of heavy silence, you cannot help but huff and jerk your chin from his careful grip, “Did you come here to merely ogle at me or do you need something?”

“Mm,” he hums, narrowing his eye for just the barest of seconds, “There is something I need indeed, Strong girl.”

“Don’t call me that!” You snap, the little huff of laughter he gives only makes you more agitated. He turns his back to you and stalks over to your vanity; it’s only then that you see he’s holding a small box behind his back, “What is that?”

“Only a little wedding present,” Aemond drawls, violet eye meeting yours in the mirror as he runs his fingers over the soft ivory silk of your cloak; his nose twitches in disgust, the most subtle of movements that you’re sure only you are able to spot. 

“Can… can I see it?”

Another twitch of his lips, a little pulling at the corners, just enough for you to know he’s satisfied about something, makes your heart squeeze in your chest. Whatever game he’s playing at, whatever imaginary battle he’s thought up in his mind, he’s winning. 

Am I even fighting back? Do I want to?

Silently, he makes his way back over to you, each heavy step a nail in your proverbial coffin. He’s standing before you again, long hair spilling over the shoulders of his tunic like a pearlescent waterfall, held back from his face by two thin braids that join in the back. 

Finally, he opens the box, carefully sliding the lid off. Your lips part as you stare down at the contents, eyes as wide as the moon as it feels like all the air has been sucked from the room. 

“I had it made by the finest craftsman in the city,” he murmurs, eye gleaming with pride at your stunned reaction, “Do you like it, little one?”

“I… Aemond, I…,” you stammer, at a loss for words as you look over the necklace resting on a bed of soft cloth. Made from a breathtaking assortment of pearls, the attention to detail is immaculate; each milky white stone is threaded onto a fine silver chain, all leading to a gleaming deep blue sapphire in the center, framed by the figure of a small silver dragon. “I-It’s gorgeous, brother, I… thank you.”

“You deserve only the best,” he purrs, watching closely as you reach up and carefully run your fingers over the glittering stones, “Shall I put it on you?”

“I already have a neck –” You start, only for a loud gasp to rip itself from your throat as Aemond tears the ruby necklace from you, the delicate gold chains easily snapping and sending dozens of tiny rosy stones clattering to the floor. All you can do is gape at him, one hand grazing against the place on your neck where the necklace once sat. 

Meanwhile, your brother’s violet eye merely follows a few of the stones as they skid across the stone floors. “Pity,” he tuts, stalking around you like a lion would its prey before stopping behind you and meeting your gaze in the mirror. 

“Do you have any idea who that necklace bel–”

“I don’t give a shit about who it belonged to,” he hisses, reaching over your shoulder and grabbing your jaw, forcing your head to turn back enough to meet his heated stare, “All that matters is that you belong to me, not some sniveling fucking bastard who shall only bring you ruin.”

He stares at you for a second more as if trying to drive the point somehow further into your heart before finally releasing your chin, smirking at the little shiver that runs down your spine when he skims his fingers over your neck. 

Your eyes flutter shut as he delicately sweeps the hair away from the back of your neck before pressing a soft kiss there, only to trail more down the crook of your neck and shoulder; time seems to slow for a moment while you savor the feel of his lips against your skin and your chest tightens when he groans. 

He huffs when he straightens back up, like being apart from you, even if only by a few scant inches, is painful – a feeling you know all too well. Opening your eyes, you watch as he carefully clasps the sapphire necklace around your neck. The larger middle stone sits perfectly at the base of your neck, the rich blue hue sparkles beautifully against your skin. 

“Flawless,” he says lowly, gently kissing just below your ear before trailing his eye up to the floor-length mirror the two of you stand before, hands resting on your waist, “We look perfect together, don’t we, little one?”

Automatically, you nod your head, unable to separate your gaze from the mirror. He’s right, he always is. The two of you simply fit together – perfect compliments of the other. 

He smiles lazily over your shoulder and pulls you closer against him, relishing in the small gasp that leaves your lips as his length presses against you, already half-hard and wanting. “Yes, you and I were meant to be together,” he breathes, slowly pulling up the skirts of your gown, “You may be marrying that traitorous little cunt, but you’ll belong to me soon enough, sweet sister.”

Your brows furrow at that and you start to question him, ask what exactly he means, but before you can utter a word, a feeble, stuttering moan is wrenched from your lips instead. Aemond holds you steady, keeping one hand firmly around your waist, as the other fits itself between your thighs; you’re helpless to do much else than watch yourself fall apart in the mirror as his lithe fingers slip through your already drenched center.

A pleased hum reverberates against the side of your jaw as he presses soft kisses against your neck, ravenous eye glued to your chest as it rises and falls with sharp pants, your breasts heaving beneath the bodice of your wedding dress.

“Promise me you won’t let him touch you,” your brother growls, swirling his fingers around your already aching pearl with practiced ease, “Swear to me that I am the only one who will ever claim you, sweet girl.”

“A-Aemond, I…,” you gasp, already having to fight through the fog in your mind to remain upright, much less speak, “Brother, please!”

“Swear it!” He snarls, biting harshly at your shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark. 

“I promise, I promise!” You quickly concede, the truth willingly spilling from you. You did not want anyone else, you never had – your gaze had been firmly set on Aemond for as long as you could remember. Your heart had soared with hope when Aegon and Helaena’s betrothal was announced, only for those hopes to be squashed when you were all but promised to Jace not too long after Aemond’s eye had been taken – doomed to a marriage built on regrets. 

Your older brother had felt the same from an earlier age still, always doting on you, even as a child. He loves Helaena, yes, but his heart had only been yours. His screams still echo in your mind – the only time he’d ever raised his voice at your mother, when he’d stormed into her chambers as soon as Aegon had taunted him with news of the raven from Driftmark. 

But it was the same each time, excuses of repairing relations and making amends, commands for you and Aemond both to grow up – to make sacrifices for the realm. 

Was I ever more than a lamb raised for slaughter? That question has kept you up for more hours than you care to admit. Now, watching in the mirror as a man who is not your betrothed brings you to heel on the morning of a day you have mourned for years, the dam inside you finally bursts – you are tired of bowing to duty. 

“Aemond, please!” You gasp, nearly crying as the fog in your mind finally lifts, “Please, take me, please!”

He pauses at that, the fingers on your aching bud stopping as his eye flicks up to yours. His eye is studying, calculating while he looks over you — there is a terrible relief in being finally, truly seen. “Is that what you wish?” He hums, chuckling when you pant as his fingers circle your dripping entrance, “To be filled with me, little one?”

You’re nodding before he’s even finished the question, desperate whines spilling from you as he slips his hand from between your legs, only long enough to loosen the ties at the front of his trousers.

“I’ll breed this sweet cunt,” he grunts, the arm around your waist moving to hook securely around your chest while the other grabs at his length, positioning it at your entrance as you hold your skirts out of the way in a trembling grasp, “Give you a pure Valyrian babe, just as you deserve.”

All of the air is knocked from your lungs as he pushes into you, spearing you on his cock in one swift motion. Your fingers abandon your skirts to instead claw helplessly at the arm draped over your chest, knees nearly buckling as Aemond pauses long enough for you to adjust. 

“Gods!” You whimper as he sets a punishing pace from the outset, though the harsh thrusts feel like paradise after being deprived of his mere presence for so long. Your head droops forward as he snakes a hand around your hip to begin rubbing at your pearl yet again, lucid enough to know that the two of you are operating on borrowed time. 

“You have always been mine, all of you,” he gasps, watching as your bodies writhe together in the mirror. After a moment, he growls and grabs at your neck, forcing your head up until your eyes meet his. “That’s it, sweet girl,” he praises, leaning forward to kiss and nip at your neck and shoulder, “You’re mine, you’re mine…”

You nod as best you can as he chants the words again and again like a prayer, pushing his length in and out of you in time with each one, until your mind is nothing but a cacophony of mine, mine, mine. 

“I-I’m, Gods, I’m – Aemond!” You all but sob, the knot in your stomach that had been pitifully winding itself for weeks finally about to unravel as your cunt tightens around him, his grunts and growls in response only pushing you further to the end. 

“Do it,” he commands, redoubling his efforts on your bud, his other hand scrambling frantically to grasp at your stomach, “Let go and I’ll breed you, I’ll give you a babe, our babe, little one. Let go for me, let go.”

His muttered command sends shivers down your spine and you’re powerless to do much else other than obey and your eyes squeeze shut and your lips part as a harsh, shuddering cry is knocked out of you; fire seems to ignite every cell within you as you pulse around his length. Your knees buckle when your high washes over you, Aemond’s grip around your waist the only thing keeping you upright. 

“Good girl, good girl,” he murmurs, the sound of his voice just barely cutting through the rush of blood in your ears. A handful of thrusts later and he stills against you, growling and squeezing you to within an inch of your life as he fills you, cock twitching. 

You both still for a moment, harsh pants filling your chambers as you catch your breath. You whine when Aemond finally pulls his softening length from you, though he shushes you sweetly before leading you to your vanity chair and sitting you down. 

“I don’t want to marry him,” you whisper suddenly, sniffling softly as tears sting the back of your eyes, “I don’t w-want to, Aemond, I –”

“Shh, shh,” he says softly, gently cupping your cheek and angling your face up toward his, “There’s nothing we can do to change today, as much as it pains me. Were it possible, I would gut him in the Sept and stake my claim to you then and there, Gods be damned, I –” 

He pauses, cutting himself off with a harsh sigh, “I will have you, I swear it. I will not fail again.” 

Were it any other time, the dark shadow that lingers behind his words would give you pause, would frighten you as they have before. 

Now, though, they settle over you like a warm blanket – there is a safety in this fear. Aemond, for all his faults, is nothing if not determined. 

Whatever surety had settled within you only an hour before is swiftly and sharply pushed from your mind as you exit the carriage and climb the many steps up to the doors of the Great Sept of Baelor, unsteady even with Aegon at your side. 

By the grace of the Gods, Aemond had managed to slip from your chambers, and supposedly from the Red Keep, unseen by all except your lady’s maids, and they had all been sworn to secrecy long ago. Once he had gone, they filed back in and had blessedly made no mention of the intrusion as they bustled about you yet again – quickly braiding your hair through the prongs of your tiara and securing your cloak to your shoulders. 

They knew better than to ask about the sapphire clasped around your neck, or about the mess of rubies on the floor.

Your eldest brother, however, had not been so forgiving; his dark eyes had narrowed the moment you were seated together in the carriage. “Today, sister? Really?” He had teased, a dangerous spark in his eyes.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you had grumbled, clenching your legs together as you sat. 

“Hm,” he hummed, chuckling softly, “Maybe I’ll soon be mother’s favorite after all.”

“We stand here in the sight of Gods and men to witness the union of man and wife,” the septon’s booming voice fills the Sept as you stand together with Jacaerys, your hands in his, “One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.”

You try your hardest to keep your eyes trained to his, to keep your lips crooked into a smile, but all you can focus on is the two stares practically searing your flesh. 

Alicent’s face swam in your vision, the way her cheeks had paled when she had caught sight of the jewelry clasped around your neck, at the guilty look in your eyes. You can feel hers boring into you now and you have no doubt her jaw is clenched, her fingers bloodied and raw. 

The other stare makes your skin prickle, much as it did on the night of your betrothal feast. You keep inwardly scolding yourself, again and again, as your eyes lock with Aemond’s every few seconds as he stands at the base of the steps to your side. 

“In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity,” the septon continues, gesturing to you and Jace, “Look upon one another and say the words.”

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger,” you recite together, all the while you desperately try to ignore the hollow, aching pit slowly opening itself in the very center of your chest.

“I am hers and she is mine,” Jace murmurs, dark gaze fixed solely on yours as he squeezes your hands, a terrible longing in his stare, “From this day, until the end of my days.”

“I am his and he is mine,” you say, each word feeling like a knife being twisted in your gut, “From this day until the end of my days.”

The septon gestures once more for the two of you to step closer together; it takes all of your restraint not to gasp when you feel a rivulet of Aemond’s spend leak down your thigh as you do. 

“With this kiss, I pledge my love,” Jace says softly. His warm hands cup your cheeks before he leans in but when your lips touch, all you see is sapphire.

thank you for taking the time to read! hope you enjoyed! :)

consider adding yourself to my tag list or check out my works on ao3!

[gracefireheart]

Once again, did some fanart of @lenny-link TF2 x SU AU, but tried making more fusions! :]

First one is Andalusite [Heavy + Medic] (who I've drawn before already), second one is Iolite [Cheavy + Medic], and the third one is Ametrine [Demoman + Soldier].

[Below the keep reading line, I'll show off the fourth fusion I drew as well, but ended up just-- disliking to hell and back o(-( Also, some notes and such about each fusion]

First off, here's the fourth fusion I did, which was Cat's Eye Tourmaline [Scout + Sniper]. (Side note: I picked out Tiger's Eye as Sniper's gem)

After looking at Steven's fusions with other gems (since Scout's a half-human half-gem in this AU fusing with Sniper who's a full gem), I did notice that basically all of them (besides Obsidian) had some kind of oddity to them. Like Smokey Quartz has three arms instead of four or just two, Rainbow 2.0 is the first gem with male pronouns and has a tad bit strange legs, and Sunstone isn't as humanoid as the other (non-corrupted) gems and fusions.

So I wanted to show that off here, but uh, I just ended up giving up on it in the end o(-( Mostly 'cause I had no clue how I wanted to color them based on the Cat's Eye Tourmaline gem, but also 'cause the overall design ended up leaned a bit more towards Sniper's design than I intended it to do.

Anyways, onto the notes for the other fusions.

Andalusite [Heavy + Medic]:

The duo that imo would probably fuse the most out of the TF2 crew, whether for battle or to just relax together (like reading a book or whatever). So with that, Heavy and Medic would have had plenty of time to refine how their fusion would look like, and making sure both of them like how they look together.

For their fusion weapon, I was thinking about them either having something like Garnet's upgraded gauntlets (the ones with spikes jutting out of it's knuckles), or letting the gauntlets have claws or something.

Iolite [Cheavy + Medic]:

I mostly did this one 'cause of one of the drawings in Lenny-Link's original piece, which made me thinking of Lapis and Jasper fusing into Malachite and all that, which lead me to this. I wanted the design to 1. Make it look chaotic due to the two people that are fused here, but also 2. Make it lean a tad more towards Cheavy's looks to make said guy think that he's the one mostly in control of the fusion, only to have Medic take over take over and do something to trap the fusion and/or get them the hell away from the TF2 crew. Something something angst idk lol

Decided to make Cheavy a [blue] Topaz. Since Heavy's a Topaz as well. I don't have any other reason than that :') Also, I placed his gem on the side of his right shoulder.

The eye goggles change color depending on who is in control. If the two weren't fighting for it, it would be one eye blue and one eye magenta. But since they are, whenever Cheavy's in control, the eyes are blue. And whenever Medic's in control, the eyes are magenta.

Ametrine [Demoman + Soldier]:

Originally, I was going to have them be a Morganite, but decided on Ametrine instead as it fit their color scheme more. Also originally, I was going to give them a knight helmet, but I wanted to draw their hair, so I instead gave them a bandana covering their possibly one eye. Possibly.

Assuming Soldier's helmet (with or without the horns) is Soldier's gem weapon like Jasper's helmet, I thought it would be neat if their fusion weapon [(horned) helmet + sword] would be something like a Morningstar, which they would be able to duel-wield without much trouble.

I've got other lil' ideas as well for this AU, like how Jeremy/Scout was the one that gave these gems their nicknames (Spy, Sniper, Engineer, etc.), how Medic grew a fascination for the organic lifeforms of Earth and how exactly they healed/was able to treat their wounds, and how- instead of Spy being all dead and gone Rose Quartz style when Jeremy was born- Spy is a lot weaker than he should be due Jeremy getting half of his gem. But uh-- I don't wanna go too overboard when this ain't even my AU :')

Either way, I'll probably go and relax a bit before drawing some regular TF2 stuff. But I might do some more fanart for this AU whenever I feel up for it. 'Cause genuinely, I love this AU sm <3

[certainlynotasimp]

Just A Bite.

(Miguel O' Hara x Female! Reader)

A/N: Hello~ I got another Miggy and Sunny post for my beloved readers, and I think you'll like it. I'm still working on the request too, but I had this idea and I had to write it. Also if you want to be notified about this series, please leave a comment on this post, and if you wanna read more then check out my master list.

Also thank you guys for 100 followers! I really appreciate you guys so much and I hope you all stay with me on this journey!

Warnings: Grumpy x Sunshine, Barley any use of (Y/N) ((Sunny is a nickname, not her name)), Female pronouns, Miguel being a teasing mf, Gwen being a snoopy spider, Establish Relationship?, Fluff, a little break in canon, and Google translate Spanish ((please give me critique if you guys are fluent in Spanish because I don't know how to speak it.))

Still haven't seen the movie yet so excuse any inaccuracies.

“So are they?” Jessica stops picking at her salad as the younger SpiderWoman peers over her shoulder.

Turning her head slightly, it didn’t take her long to discover what the young protégé’s attention is focused on. 

The signature blue costume hugged the tall Spiderman as he stood several feet away from them. His normally dangerous talons were hidden by the two trays of food in each hand. His eyes were narrowed in annoyance as he seems to be hyperlinked on something. It didn’t take long before Jessica figured out who she needed to spot as the source of Miguel’s irritation. 

The black and white costume of the tiny spider caught her eyes first before she realizes that Peter B. Parker had enamored her attention away from Miguel.

 Well, not so much him, but the one-month-old Mayday Parker had the Spider Society's sunshine orbiting around her. Her little hand grasps around the digit of an older woman as Sunny cooes. A look of awe and sadness filled her eyes as the whole world seemed to disappear around her.

“Are they what?” Jessica asks as she turns her attention back to her lunch, mildly groaning as her little bug certainly didn’t appreciate the diet their daddy put them on. 

“Is Miguel and (Y/N) together?” Gwen repeats her question as she analyzes Miguel’s body language.

It was odd to Gwen as Miguel appeared to be annoyed that he had to hold their plates while waiting on her, but he didn’t make a move to say to rush along the tiny spider. In fact, Gwen nearly choked on her drink as she sees the longing gaze in his garnet eyes.

“To be honest…” Jessica catches Gwen’s attention again as she starts packing away her now empty tray with trash. “I’ve been a part of the Society for a long time, but Sunny was here before I was. Her and Miguel are kinda a packaged deal, but I have no idea if they are together.” Gwen tilts her head with a confused look on her face. She knew the older Spiderwoman was one of the first members of the Society when Miguel created it, but she didn’t know the cheery spider was here longer than Jess. 

“She was here before you?”

“She was here before all of us.” Peter interrupts as he plops in the seat next to Gwen. The infant was now quietly sleeping against her father’s chest with webbing holding her up. Peter steals one of Gwen’s french fries off of her tray as Gwen looked annoyed by him. “Miss Sunshine was the first spider Miguel recruited from what I heard, and I should know.” He plops the fry into his mouth as he chats. “I was the second.”

Jessica chuckles at Gwen’s shocked face at the realization as to how long the futuristic spider man has had his cheery companion. “Little bit wants to know if the big guy and Sunny are a thing or not?” Peter raises an eyebrow as he teases Gwen, “Why? You got a crush on one of them?”

“Ew, no. They are old and I’m 16. It's just they are always together and they seem like a couple, but they don’t do normal couple things.” Gwen whines as her face burns in embarrassment.

“First off, they are not old.” Peter scoffs as he runs a hand through his own graying hair. “Miguel is 28 and Sunny just turned 27.”

Jessica giggles as a memory pops into her mind. The look on Miguel’s face when his smaller companion brought him a cake she made for his birthday will forever be Jessica’s favorite moment since joining this team. Well, the second greatest moment. The slight teary-eyed look the leader gave to the bouncing spider as he had to endure her butchering the birthday song was also very funny. At least she can cook better than she can sing.

“And adult relationships aren’t like the ones you’ve seen in high school.” Peter sighs as he remembers the regretful decisions he made in high school. “They aren’t gonna make out in the hallways or tell each other that they love each other every five minutes.” “So they are together?” Gwen slaps Peter’s hand away from her fries, which causes the baby to stir. Peter hastily bounces the baby as he throws Gwen a glare.

“Oh, I have no idea,” Peter answers honestly as Gwen plops her head on the table. “Why don’t you ask them?”

Jessica smiles fondly as Mayday stares at Peter as he finally starts eating his own food. Her hand wanders to the growing baby bump as she looks into Gwen’s frustrated gaze. “Never hurts to ask. But I suggest asking Sunny because Miguel will deny everything.”

~~~~

“Miss. (Y/N), are you dating Spiderman?” Gwen rehearses to herself as she wanders down the corridor, trying to find her cheery colleague. Gwen groans as rubs her face in frustration, hating all the ideas she came up with sounded childish. How do you ask a grown woman if she is dating her boss? Especially if you’re mutant superheroes who travel to different dimensions and fight anomalies in bright spider costumes.

Just as Gwen rounds a corner, a series of grunts fall into her ears as she draws closer to the combat simulator. One of Lyla’s ideas for the HQ was to include a training room with the ability to use advanced AIs to simulate how fighting in different dimensions. She also thought it would be a fun idea to make it a level system so Miguel can review their abilities and hand out missions appropriate for the skill sets. Gwen attempted to fight in there several times, but she always gets her ass handed to her once she reaches level 3. 

Reaching the door, she peers into the window and sees a disheveled Miguel as he stood in his spider suit in a barely lit simulation. His back to her, she can see his shoulders heave as he pants for a breath of relief in this difficult setting. Despite his lack of spidey sense, Gwen knew he was pretty agile and was one of the strongest Spidermen they had. His talons emerge as his mask disintegrates. His fangs shine in the dim lighting as he looks around the room, looking for something. 

Hunting for something.

She ducks when Miguel looks her way before peeking her head back up. Before she can realize what’s going on, a flash of white gets whipped at the menacing spider, causing him to shred the opposing webbing to bits. Miguel focuses on the direction the attack came from as a smirk rolls onto his face as he approaches his invisible prey. His eyes a dangerous red as his mischief and hunger grows at the anticipation.

“¿Dónde estás, mi pequeña araña?” The predator purrs as his gaze locks on a particular corner. Gwen could barely hear it, but a faint sound of panting, of his prey trying to catch her breath. “No me dejarías esperando demasiado, ¿verdad? Extraño desesperadamente tu dulce rostro, querida.”

Miguel saunters slowly towards the faint sound, a glint of victory shining in his eyes as the smell of her perfume floats into his nose. His smirk turns into a deviously sweet smile as he cracks the bones in his hand. “Especialmente cuando estás gimiendo tan dulcemente debajo de mí…” He mumbles as he finally lunges toward the corner. Gwen puts a hand in her mouth to hide the gasp as he pounces but tilts her head in confusion as his hunt turns sour.

Miguel looks equally stunned for a moment when he realizes that nothing was in his grasp. He pats around the corner to make sure before his hand gets caught on something. He growls as he tries to free his hand upon realizing that it was a trap. A flash of white traps the other hand to the wall above the other as the air rings with giggles. 

“Caught you, Miggy!~” A voice cheers from above as both Miguel and Gwen look up to the ceiling. In a faint glow of green, the victorious smile of the small jumping spider appears out of thin air. Unexpectedly, Miguel meets her smile with a warm chuckle as the hints of a smile appear on his face. “You certainly did, little one.” He sighs as the woman hops down and lands in a crouch position in front of him. Gwen smiles at the adorable display until the older woman leaned over to Miguel’s shoulder. Miguel flinches slightly with a flush of red covering his face as Gwen realizes what just happened.

‘Did she just bite him?!’ Gwen thought as she stared at the smiling duo in bewilderment. 

“Think its going to leave a mark?” He commented as he watches in amusement as his sunshine glares at him.

“It better! Yours are gonna take forever to heal.” She huffs as she stands up. Miguel rolls his eyes and chuckles at her attempt to appear annoyed. 

“It's not that bad…” “NOT THAT BAD?!” Sunny blurts out, interrupting the amused man.

The top part of her costume disintegrates, exposing her tank top underneath as Gwen had to stop herself from shouting in shock. Littering the small spider’s frame were 5 large bruising bite marks, each featuring two distinct puncture wounds. Gwen looks up at the panel beside the door and sees they are on level 6 of 1v1 combat simulation. The realization dawns on the teenager as her face turns an unflattering shade of red. Before she can witness anymore, Gwen teleports out of the corridor as the duo sees the flash of orange. 

“What was that?”

“I don’t know, but whoever it was is gonna be on trash duty for a month”

~~~~~

“So you ever asked her about if she and Miguel are-”

“No, and I’ll never try to figure that out again.”

~~~~~~

A/N: Please please let me know what else you guys wanna see or throw me some critiques. I love hearing from you all!!

~~~~~~

Taglist:

@ameliadraws 

@tojisrightnut

@whyareyoubored

@silly-lovestruck-em

@luvil1y

@chims-kookies

@himesuedi

@22carolina08

[stevenuniversestoryart]

Hello!!!!! Welcome to my new blog( again). This is another blog that goes with my first story blog “StevenUniverQuotevStoryatory” no capitals it just autocorrects everything.

Here’s the link if you wanna visit my first story blog.

Anyway, this is for art for the story!!!! Anyone can send me art so don’t be shy!!!! I will never make fun of other peoples artwork!!!!

But there are some rules on here-

-All work must be appropriate

-No changing the sexuality of the characters

-No weird ships

-No one is aloud to make fun of other peoples artwork

-You can draw Y/n in your own style too!(Isnt gonna be used for the story though-)

And I believe that’s the rules for now, I’ll add some more later if I have to!

Also, I’m looking for a cover to this book and am going to be choosing my favorite one. Here are the rules if you want to try to win!

-Y/n or Ocs cannot be included. I also recommend that you don’t include ruby on there too.

-Title must be somewhere on the artwork.

-Nice backgrounds

Please take note that I may choose multiple and the Coner will most likely change every year or so. Not most likely though.

I’m happy you read this and I can’t wait to see your art!!!!

Also, I’m really bad at drawing but am gonna post here anyways too lol

[haruhar-u]

“A rose upon you”

Rook x g/n reader, fluff

A/N: damn this is finished earlier than I thought it’s be finished. I did struggle to write his dialogue so I apologize if it’s ooc

edited but not beta read

The first day, it was a red rose that smells vaguely of apples. Then it was a box of your favourite chocolates. The rose had a velvety garnet bow with gold trim around the edges. In gold embroidery was the initial "R.H." Seriously, who is this admirer of yours? You sat on the couch in Ramshackle’s lounge, holding the two items in your hands. Oh, Ace was there too. Your flaming tuna cat and Deuce were out buying snacks at Sam’s. 

"Oooh,” Ace cooed at you in a teasing manner, almost like when in elementary school a boy and a girl get called to the board together, or even in the same group, for that matter.

“Shut up.” You elbowed Ace in the ribcage, not hard enough to hurt him, but hard enough for him to get the message at least. You looked closely at the ribbon around the rose, softly tracing your finger over the embroidered initials. Ugh. Everything this person did made your heart race. You weren’t even sure you could think straight.

“Yo, look.” Ace pointed out the embroidered initials. "Obviously, that could be Rook Hunt…..he’s the only one crazy enough to do this anyway.” 

Rook Hunt….? The vice of Pomefiore. You will admit the two of you have gotten oddly close as of recently. He’d always try to help you with your work and would suggest you two go to the oddest places together. Such as the woods. At 3am. Why????

“I’m gonna go on a….walk?” You tell Ace and get off the couch and put on your fuzzy jacket and boots. You all but gently open the door. The icy winter air blasts on your face as you step out, snow crunching under your boot.

You don’t have to trek out much further until you hear someone call out “mon trickster” from the bushes. At this point, you’re not going to question why he was in your bushes in the first place.

“Were you the one behind... well, all this?" You ask bluntly, approaching him with the rose in hand. He steps out to hold the rose in his hand, gazing at the ribbon.

“Of course it was me. I thought you needn’t have to put much thought into it!!” He says all dramatically. “-Name- do you accept my confession of love??”

Your name instead of a nickname in French?! Does that mean he’s more serious than you originally thought? You take a moment to think about it. After all that happened in Styx, the Pomefiore vice was with you every step of the way. He always made sure to check on you to make sure you’re okay, both physically and mentally. Sometimes it’d be by tapping on your window at 3 a.m., but that was his way of showing affection. “I do.” You say when you finally come to an agreement with yourself.

“Magnifique!” He grabs your hand abruptly, causing your heart to skip a beat. “I have so much for you to witness.” He pulls you off into the nearby forest, presumably to read you some poetry. The snow-capped trees looked a lot more inviting with him by your side. Forever and always.

Taglist : @xen-blank @krenenbaker @edith-is-apparently-a-cat @whspermy-name @the-banana-0verlord

[brownblob]

Bumbling Fools

Kalim Al-Asim x GN!Reader

TW: None, just fluff!

The sun set in the west, illuminating everything an ethereal golden. Pretty garnet eyes sought you through the nearly vacant halls, a fumbling grin plastered across his lips upon noticing you.

He sped towards you, in his hand an opulent card perhaps an invitation that he longed to hand over to you. His eyes shimmered with a sort of childish joy as he took in your features once more. A nervous grin danced across his lips, one he wishes would simply leave, as he parted them to speak.

"Prefect.." He said hesitantly, a sort of reluctance present within his voice, eyes glancing over you nervously as if you'd shun him away.

"Please come to my party, won't you..?"

He said, the words finally slipping out of his lips, an elated sigh leaving his lips after he could finally rid himself of the anxiety he felt. His hand practically slammed into yours as he quickly placed the card into it, a skittish chuckle following suit. It was a rare sight honestly considering Kalim was not a shy person, ever. In fact, he was the most extroverted person anyone might've known.

Needless to say, you were a bit confused by the sudden hesitance in his voice, something you were recently seeing build more off. Luckily for him, your obliviousness to such things was a blessing. At least it would be if he himself knew of his feelings, for he was oblivious to them.

It was honestly laughable how his sunny persona would fade into a stuttering mess in mere seconds upon the mere mention of your name. It was something even he couldn't pinpoint himself.

Thankfully, you couldn't either.

Upon gazing at you, he felt even more confused. He didn't know why but whenever he saw you, he felt as if he was messing everything up. But even if he was, just why did be care so much?

He didn't like the feeling, but at the same time he couldn't help but relish in your presence, in your company. He was confused, he couldn't comprehend why speaking with you made him into a bumbling fool, why his words would come out funny, and why his face felt so awfully warm. Maybe he'd figure it out if he saw the fluster of his face, the deep blush of his cheeks.

"It's nothing big this time, I promise. It's not even a party really...just some time in Scarabia, you and me, alone..?" He asked, his voice shaky, crimson eyes holding only admiration as nervous words spilled out of his lips.

He felt stupid, and it felt worse because he didn't even know why. It wasn't as if he said something dumb, not that he'd know what you'd consider dumb as you did always humor him. So why was it that whenever you came into his vision, his heart would race so incredibly fast? Why would his words come out either too slow or too fast?

And, just why was his mind clouded with one singular thought?

The need to engulf you in his arms, bask in your comforting warmth as he worshipped your very presence. The desire to spend time with you, alone, away from others. The childish want to be able to cuddle you, hold you whenever he pleased. The yearning to be able to call you his, kiss you like a prince would in a dreamy fairytale.

Was he going mad? It was surely that.

Jamil was right, he was an idiot, an idiot who was going mad and was somehow fixated on you. That must've been it. And for the most part it was, he was an idiot but not the usual deranged fool.

He was just another idiot in love, something he didn't realize himself.

He was awoken form his frenzy of thoughts as you suddenly spoke, a cheery tone surrounding your words as you looked at him so fondly. For some reason, that made him so awfully happy, so content.

"That's very sweet of you Kalim.." You started, eyes crinkling as a soft smile played at your lips, hands gently holding the opulent invitation. You opened it, reading the contents serenely.

"I'd love to go, and we can definitely stargaze together.." You said, a giggle following suit as you referred to the part of the invite in which he asked if you'd like stargazing. You did think it was a bit peculiar how he brought an invitation that didn't include a time, but the idea itself was quite endearing.

His eyes immediately lit up, the nervousness engulfing him almost disappearing. Almost.

"Let's go then, I'll even get Jamil to prepare some sweets for us..Oh! And we can go on a carpet ride too..!"

His words were so beautifully endearing, as if they conveyed how much he liked you, how much he cherished any of the time you both spent together. His hands fidgeted together as he awaited your response, innocent eyes gazing into yours with a gleeful smile painted across his lips.

"Then, let's go. It's been long since I saw the Scarabia moon.." You spoke, your words gently touching him at the positivity.

"And I'll definitely take you up on the offer of Jamil making some sweets.." You said, a childish chuckle escaping your pretty lips. His eyes only fixated on you; how ethereal you looked as the golden rays of sunshine basked you in their fleeting form. It was as if his breath was taken away from him, a breeze tousling his pristine hair as he only stared.

Then you both walked, his body following behind yours as if you were the one inviting him over. He could only stare, words not daring to leave his lips, sealed away in his heart. He might've finally understood what this gut wrenching feeling may have been, and he was so awfully scared of rejection.

His hand gently cradled yours upon arriving at Scarabia, Jamil sighing in relief upon Kalim's return. Curt greetings were exchanged between all of you, Kalim practically hugging Jamil when he already had sweets prepared. Kalim then whisked you away, one hand eagerly holding yours, hoping you'd dismiss it while the other held the tray of snacks.

There you both sat, underneath the stars as you exchanged words, laughter surrounding the room as the stars twinkled so brightly. You twirled underneath the celestial trinkets decorating the sky, the sweet hum of a song escaping your lips.

You looked up, gaze fixed on the stars while he looked at you, staring as if you were the stars.

He didn't know how he suddenly gained the courage, but he did. His hand held yours, bodies close next to each other as you danced underneath the glittering stars, no words were exchanged as soft music played in the background.

Garnet jewels were fixed on you, shimmering so beautifully. His pristine white hair was tousled so perfectly, his headband and ornaments jingling as you both moved. A sheepish smile danced on his lips, mischief hiding underneath the nervous grin. He hoped to not mess this up, to not mumble out a stupid phrase.

He only hoped to let this moment keep going on, make it timeless.

Maybe it was how the both of you danced or maybe the close proximity, but now he knew it. He was an idiot, not a deranged fool but a lovesick idiot.

And he loved it, because being in love with someone like you was nothing short of an honor.

Soon, his hands tightened ever so slightly around your waist, your eyes widening as his head rested in the crook of your neck. The movements were slow as he carefully guided you to a divan. The room was lit only by the stars and the gleaming moon, his tresses of white matching with the celestial bodies.

The same sheepish smile returned to his face, shyness hidden not so discreetly as he simply held you. It was a fragile moment, a gentle one. It felt nice, his eyes holding the purest form of what you could only register as admiration for you. A blush, the color of his eyes, now adorning your cheeks as the usually sunny boy held you like some prince in a fairytale.

"Prefect, I think I love you.."

His words were boyish, a childish smile adorning his lips. The roles were switched, now there he was acting so carefree while all you could do was fumble upon the sight of him. Your eyes could only widen at his words, your gaze averting to anything but him as you struggled to focus.

Then it happened, a magical moment, one which you could only describe as whimsical.

He leaned closer, ever so slightly, your hand in his as he pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. A playful smile was etched across his lips, eyes studying you as if you were the most precious treasure one could lay eyes upon.

"May I..?"

He asked, leaning closer once more, this time to your lips. His free hand now held the back of your head, fingers spun around your locks. You nodded slowly, a little confused and a bit too flustered for your liking.

His lips finally met yours and everything seemed to stop. Your eyes closed and so did his, your face flushing more than you knew it could. The soft music in the background only made this moment even dreamier than you could imagine. His gentle hands carefully caressed you, his fingers locked around your hair as his other hand interlocked with one of your own.

The kiss was a fleeting one, one that was so awfully pure that it made your heart yearn. Both of your eyes opened at the same time, a blush coating both of your faces as he looked away in embarrassment. He turned his gaze back at you slowly, hoping he did the right thing. His hand was still interlocked with your own while his other one left your hair and was now caressing your cheek.

"Prefect, you are far sweeter than any of Jamil's sweets.."

He said, an endearing smile on his face as you only averted your gaze, forgetting to even speak. He made you feel so fuzzy, so blissfully dreamy that you couldn't help but lean into his embrace, closing in any space between you.

He was an idiot in love but his foolishness was infectious, infecting you so quaintly.

Now there were two idiots in love. Two little bumbling fools.

Note: If you enjoyed this, please interact with this post and reblog! Thank you! Any kind gestures are greatly appreciated!

Note 2: Kalim is the love of my life (づ > ᴗ < )づᡣ𐭩

(Edit) Note 3: Just edited it and proofread it :)

[pearl-blue-musings]

golden hour

Aventurine x reader

A/N: I wrote this while listening to this song, and garnet is my birthstone

Word count: 532

Penacony. The land of dreams. The original IPC prison. The place where you can be whoever you want to be. Love a different life, live a better life. Penacony, the dreamscape where no one can die. Or so they say.

Maybe Jade wanted to pit you against the other Stoneheart for mere amusement that you couldn’t fathom. Nothing got past her or Diamond for that matter. So sending you, Garnet, with Aventurine, to reclaim Asdana for themselves seemed redundant and useless. Why send two when Topaz was already backup and Jade was on the way? It made no logical sense to you but who were you to argue with the higher ups?

It’s also completely plausible that they knew you needed a vacation and some time with your lover before the inevitable would occur.

All the while, you thought the two of you were discreet. Never going on the same missions, having conflicting schedules, and yet… And yet, you’re sure someone broke down all the walls you put up to read your heart as if it was on your sleeve. There was sympathy laced with this assignment, as if they knew something you didn’t. You kept a poker face as you all arrived and settled into your rooms, something your lover taught you well. It wasn’t until you descended into the dreamscape that you began to relax.

Golden hour this one was called. The ideal dreamscape to be in. And the one where you were able to shed Garnet and be yourself. Of course you’re not surprised Aventurine showed up as Aventurine, but you loved seeing him all the same. As he cast his gaze upon you, his heart skipped a beat. It was as if all the stars and lights in golden hour surrounded your ethereal frame. You’re gorgeous, a vision to behold. He loves you in the mask and loves this version of you. The version that he fell for outside of work and the office. The one that saw the true him and still found him worthy and lovable. As much as he loves seeing you be Garnet, this is the version of you he loves the most.

He slowly approaches you, a soft gaze to match his soft smile as you run to him, almost in slow motion. In this very moment, in this second, in this dreamscape, nothing else matters.

It’s just you and him, meeting in a lovers embrace. His gloved hands cul your face for a soft yet passionate kiss. You smile and giggle into the kiss, melting into the feeling as if a symphony is playing behind you. The two of you might have a job to do, but who says that there isn’t a chance to indulge in each other for just a moment? Where you are you, and Aventurine is Kakavasha.

He briefly thinks to himself that he needs to thank Jade for bringing the two of you early, knowing that this time with you is precious before he has to make some intense decisions he knows you know nothing about. But for right now, he wants to spend some intimate moments with you while the stars shine brightly in Golden Hour.

[lou-struck]

Bigger Bling

Mammon x reader

Wc:1.9k

~Mammon can’t stand to look at that damn promise ring Lucifer gave you any longer.

a/n: This is a loose sequel to this Lucifer One-Shot HERE (You don’t have to read it but If you want to go ahead)

It's shiny

It's expensive 

And it's BIG!

Mammon's deep blue eyes glare down at the stunning promise ring on your finger. The very one Lucifer had bought for you all those months ago. As it rests on that special finger, the Demon determines that he has never hated a gem more in his life. The deep red garnet with the black-gold band looks like something his brother would choose for you. 

He really hates that.

"Mc, you should take that thing off and Let the Great Mammon give you a real rock." he pouts, his tanned fingers boredly toying with the sparkling gem on your finger. 

You only laugh and ruffle the Demon's white hair with your unembellished hand. "Mammon, I can't do that. This ring is very important to me. How would Lucifer feel if I took his gift off?" 

The Demon's cheeks turn a dusty pink color as he tries to hide your effect on him with his hands.

"Who cares what he thinks?" he mutters, "I want to give ya somethin' even better so you'll be dyin' to take that old ring off."

That's it!

Mammon's eyes light up as the cogs in his head start to turn with a not-so-evil scheme. 

All he has to do to get you to take off that cheap little ring is to buy you something even better. It will be gold, and shinier and will cost even more Grimm than what his older brother had spent on you. 

He turns towards the door, using his insane speed to bolt before you have a chance to say goodbye to him. He doesn't notice the look of confusion on your face as he shuts the double doors behind him with a conniving grin. 

With you out of sight, Mammon has the alone time he needs to revel in his brilliance. He had just made a killing from selling some of the gifts that were just sitting in Asmo's closet of offerings from his fan clubs. 

His brother really has no idea how much of a fortune he is sitting on…

Nevertheless, Mammon reaches into his wallet and pulls out Goldie. The credit card seems to shake in apprehension of the Demon's upcoming shopping trip to only the best jewelry shops the Devildom has to offer. 

~

It's been a long day at RAD, and without Mammon's company, the day seemed to go by even slower than normal. After he walked out on you this morning, you didn't see him for the rest of the day.

After talking to a few lesser demons you realized that he didn't show up for any of his other classes either. And as you are sent to his voicemail box for the nth time today, your heart begins to ache in worry that your Avatar of Greed has somehow gotten himself into some kind of trouble.

Twisted scenarios of the Demon being chased by witches or undead debt collectors churn your gut throughout your walk home. As you let yourself in through the massive double doors, your weary mind replays your last interaction with him before he left. 

You fiddle with the ring on your finger and wonder what was it about the gem on your finger that got him so upset?

Your good-natured worrying begins to boil under your skin. When you notice that he's not in the living room with the others, those feelings only increase.

Clear your throat, gaining the attention of the three conscious demons in the room. Belphie, the fourth, is fast asleep, resting his head on his twin's lap. Lucifer is off at the castle doing some work with Diavolo. And Levi is up in his room, where he has been working his way through a new game since last night. "Hey, have any of you guys seen Mammon anywhere?" 

Satan looks up from his book briefly and gives you a smile. "Thankfully, no. Without his jabbering, I've been able to make some sufficient progress in my book."

You roll your eyes lightheartedly at the blond's remark but look to the others in hope they have a different answer for you. 

Asmo sees the concern on your features and tries to comfort you with an embrace. The sweet scent of his cologne soothing you a bit. "Sorry, Hon, I haven't seen him since breakfast. But I'm sure he'll come back soon. In the meantime, how about I take your mind off things?" The playful suggestiveness in his tone makes you giggle as you look over 

"Mmnnnother two., Breakfast." Beel hums dreamily as he imagines the Bufo Egg quiche Asmo baked for you all this morning. You can tell from the little stream of drool that trickles from the corner of his , That he will be of little help to you. 

Belphie blinks up at you sleepily, stretching his arms out lethargically as he sits upward. "Mammon?" he yawns. "I saw him earlier when Beel and I were walking home. He was out shopping and looked strangely happy. 

"We did?" Beel asks, coming out of his food-related daze. "When? I didn't see him."

"Probably because you were trying to sniff out the Devil Dog vendor." Belphie snorts before turning his attention back to you and gives you a sleepy smile. "He's just messing around somewhere. He'll be back soon."

As if on cue, you hear the front door burst open. Mammon calls your same in a sing-song voice from the entrance as the others groan. Satan huffs and puts a cat-shaped bookmark in the novel he is reading. "There goes my quiet afternoon. I'm gonna go to my room and finish this."

The Avatar of Wrath gets up and pads quickly out the door just as Mammon strides in with a pep in his step. A small gift bag in his hand as he blinds you with his pearly white smile. He looks elated, which kinda irks you since you have spent the better part of the afternoon concerned for his well-being.

What are ya doin' Mc?" the white-haired Demon asks, as if you are the one who has evaded him all day long.

"Wondering where you have been all day, Mammon?" You respond back exasperatedly. "You just got up and left me this morning and didn't show up for any of your other classes. I thought you got yourself in trouble or kidnapped by witches… again." you mutter that last part under your breath, but Mammon seems too excited to notice. 

"Course you were worried bout the Great Mammon," he laughs, slinging an arm around you comfortably. "That's why yer such a good human."

"Mammon, seriously, Where were you?" 

There is a twinkle in his eyes and a faint dusting of crimson on his tanned skin as he looks around the room at his brothers, who are not-so-subtly listening in on the conversation. "Lemme show ya somewhere private."

He takes your left hand but quickly jolts and releases it when he comes into contact with your ring. He takes your right one instead, and you notice how sweaty his hands are. He walks you silently down the hallway and up the stairs until he gets you to the safety of his bedroom. 

He sits with you on his plush bed and begins to ruffle through the tissue paper of his gift bag before pulling out a cubic, black, crushed velvet box. 

The size throws you off a bit since it is roughly the size of a child's shoe box. 

Far bigger than any kind of jewelry box you have ever seen. 

Not even the cases Diavolo uses when transporting the crown Jewels are this big. Your curiosity and confusion blend together in a strange concoction as Mammon sets the box in your hands. "Mammon, what is this?" you ask nervously. 

He is practically wiggling in your seat in anticipation "Jus' open it, you'll see."

Spurred but his excitement, you crack open the box to reveal the biggest freaking diamond you have ever seen in your life. The gem is the size of a softball and is tethered to a thin golden band at the bottom. 

You blink at your reflection in the facets of the gem, unsure of what to say. "I-is this a."

"Isn't it amazin'?" he gushes. "The biggest ring ya ever seen?"

So it is a ring…

"It's certainly the biggest." you parrot, unsure if you should take the ring out of the box or put it in some kind of museum. "This must've cost a fortune. How did you pay for this?"

"Oh it's nothin'," he laughs with a nonchalant wave of his hand. "It'll take me a few hundred years to pay the thing off, but only the best for my human." It takes both of his hands to remove the heavy ring from its cushion. The thin golden band looks like it is bending under the ring's weight. "Come on, you should take that old thing off and put this baby on instead."

You realize that he is gesturing to your promise ring, and everything clicks into place. 

Mammon wanted to give you something so special so you would remove the ring Lucifer had given you all those months ago. That ring is invaluable; it's a promise, a thank you for the love you have given to him and his brothers since you arrived in the Devildom. It's not something you can just discard.

But Mammon must think you wear it as a sign you love Lucifer more than him. "Oh Mammon," you murmur, placing your hand on his shoulder. "You know I love you, right?"

When he realizes that you aren't going to throw your older ring to the floor in disgust, his face falls. He's confused and looks at you like a kicked puppy. "B-but this one is better; i-it costs ten-no a hundred times more than the other one."

"It's not the price of the ring that makes it special," you say softly, gently tracing your finger over the massive diamond Mammon had gotten you. "This is beautiful, but it's too much."

"I jus' wanted to show ya that I'm yer first. I love ya Mc." he sighs. "And I wanted to give ya somethin special so everyone would know it."

"I know you do, and I love you." gently, you close the box and hand it back to him. "Even without the Diamond to end all diamonds." 

"I know ya do." he sighs, bumping you playfully with his shoulder. "But do ya really want me to return it?" 

"It's for the best," you chuckle. "I wouldn't want you to be in debt."

"It was a lot of Grimm," he says, chuckling nervously. "I swear Goldie was cryin' when I pulled her out t' pay but yer worth every bit."

"I'm sure she was," you laugh. "But I do appreciate the gesture. How about we take it back together."

"Yer the best mc," the Demon says eagerly, giving you a heartfelt smile, "How about we pick out another piece for ya. Like a bracelet or somethin?" He sees the slight apprehension on your face and places his hand over your own. "It doesn't have to be crazy expensive if ya don't want it ta be' I jus' wanna give ya somethin' so ya know how much the Great Mammon cares about ya."

Swayed by this little compromise, you find yourself agreeing to the Demon's request. Standing from the bed and taking his hand.

A few hours later, you come back wearing a simple yet elegant gold bracelet. Giggling when Mammon marches you around the Devildom to show everyone the special piece of jewelry he got for you.

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

[vodika-vibes]

I'm back because I need more, lol. You can totally keep them on the short side. It makes it easier for me to read while at work 😂

Okay, so let's choose something a little different... How about Wolffe, garnet, and winter?

Once again, take it wherever you want. You know me best 😘 It'll be fabulous as usual.

Please and thank you 💚💚💚

@the-bad-batch-baroness

No Power

Summary: A sudden winter storm leaves Wolffe trapped in your apartment with you. Luckily, there are worse people to spend your free time with.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Reader

Word Count: 554

Prompt: Garnet - Protective Love

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I don't think this really feels protective, but, at the same time, it kind of does? Wolffe just gives off protective vibes.

You pull your knees up onto the couch as you watch Wolffe talk on his comm. You can’t hear what he’s saying, the conversation isn’t for you after all, but you can hazard a guess.

This blizzard came out of nowhere, after all. There’s no way that Wolffe is going to be able to get back to the barracks tonight. Or tomorrow, based on what the news is saying.

Coruscant just isn’t made for inclement weather.

Your gaze drifts to the window, and at the snow falling from the sky. It looks peaceful, but you’re pretty sure that it’s nothing more than a facade. 

There’s the sound of a call being disconnected, and you turn your attention back to Wolffe, “Everything okay?”

He glances at you, warmth crossing his face, “Yeah. I was given the order to shelter in place, for the time being.”

“Understandable.”

“I’m not complaining, there are far worse places that I could have to shelter in place at.” Wolffe crosses the room and settles on the couch next to you, and you immediately curl into his side. “Sinker, Boost, and Comet are all sheltering in place at their partners' homes too.”

“I didn’t know that they were dating?”

“Yeah, neither did I.” He presses a light kiss to your temple, “It’s fine. I’ll deal with it later.” His lips trail down the side of your face until they’re hovering just over yours, “Sorry for putting you out, angel.”

“Oh no, I have to spend extra time with the love of my life, whatever will I doooo~?” You tease, giggling as he peppers light kisses all over your face. 

“Brat,” His voice is affectionate, “I suppose you’ll just have to share your bed.”

“Oh no~”

“And your shower.”

“The horror~”

“And the kitchen,” 

You dramatically drape yourself across Wolffe, “Not the kitchen~”

A squeak falls from you as he tugs you, properly, onto his lap and catches your lips in a proper kiss, “Not to worry, cyare. I’ll find some way to pay you back.”

“Ho?”

“I’ll protect you from your neighbors, when they get annoyed at how loud you’re going to be.” Wolffe offers with a sly grin.

You tilt your head, “Why would I be loud?”

His sly smile becomes a cocky smirk, and your face heats. You grab a decorative pillow and smack him with it, “You. You’re such a…a man!”

“You’ve never complained before.” Wolffe replies with a grin.

You open your mouth to say something, only to pause when the lights flicker, and then turn off. “...ah.”

Wolffe sighs, and his arms tighten around you. “I assume that the building has a generator?”

“For heat only.”

“Good enough for me. Let’s dig out your candles and some blankets, and we can make a romantic night of it.”

You smile at him adoringly, “I love you.”

Wolffe drops a kiss to your forehead, and then your lips, “I know. I love you too.”

And then he prods you to your feet and effortlessly navigates the apartment in the dark to find all of the blankets and candles that he needs to make this a romantic night.

And you watch him in adoration for a few moments, before you also get to your feet to go and find your battery powered camp stove. You’re going to need it.

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

Prompt: "I thought you were going home for Christmas." - "Well, I couldn’t leave you all alone."

Pairing: Silver x Gn!Reader/Prefect/Yuu

Genre: Fluff

TW: NA

Silver paced up and down his room. The clacking of his boots soft and controlled, he walked from one side to the other, while a pair of garnet eyes watched him closely.

Lilia leaned back against the headboard, hand gently stroking the little sparrow that had flown in earlier to sit on Silver's desk. The tiny bird and the ancient fae watched the human boy pace patiently; the bird unaware of the reason behind his anxiousness, the fae finding amusement in it.

Silver took one look at the digital clock sitting on his desk, then continued his steps. Click clack, click clack, click clack-

The door opened, and both father and son looked towards it. Malleus entered the room, closing the door behind him with a carefulness that seemed at odds with his intimidating stature. The carefulness of a being far too powerful to be careless.

Silver looked up at the fae prince. Verdant gaze met auroral eyes, and with a shake of his head, Malleus replied to the wordless question he could see in Silver's eyes.

"They declined my offer."

Silver seemed to deflate at his words, sitting down onto his bed with a frown pulling at his lips. Lilia raised an eyebrow, leaning forward to look at Malleus better. "Oh?"

Malleus nodded, sitting next to Silver, his head turned in Lilia's direction to answer him.

"The Child of man thanked me for inviting them to Briar Valley, but said that they wished not to impose on us. I could not change their mind."

Turning to the youngest in the room, he whispered, "My apologies, Silver."

Silver shook his head, "No need to apologize, Malleus. I know you must have tried your best."

Lilia looked at the young boys in front of him. Both of whom looked very down about your refusal to visit their land. Lilia knew you meant no harm, that you merely wanted to have them enjoy their holidays without taking on the role of a gracious host to a guest. But while he was privy to knowledge of how your mind must have been working when you turned Malleus down, he was also too invested in what steps Silver would take to actually tell them that.

Ah, young love. So precious and pure... and entertaining, he thought to himself as he watched Silver deliberate on Malleus' words till he physically could before yet another one of his sleeping spells caught up to him.

Bundled up in your favorite blanket in front of the merry fire that danced in the fireplace and warmed the entirety of Ramshackle, you finished the last bit of homework Professor Crewel had assigned over the holidays. Finding your days far too free, since your friends had already left for their homes, you decided to get your sizeable portion of homework done before inevitably having to lend a helping hand to Grim, who was currently busy snoring away.

The dorm was quiet, save for the soft snores emanating from where Grim lay on the sofa, one paw leaning off the side. Even the ghosts had decided to keep a low profile, sleepily shuffling along somewhere in the dorm. The air felt like a comforting hug, lulling you into peaceful relaxation.

One that was quickly shattered by the ringing of the bell. You frowned in confusion as you sat straight, gently coaxing Grim who had startled at the sound back to sleep much like a mother with their child, before getting up to check who was at your door. As you walked to the door, your glanced over to the clock.

7:30 p.m., it read, and you hummed. Who could it be?

Twisting the doorknob, you opened to find Silver, one of his hands outstretched to ring your bell again, his other hand behind his back. He froze when he made eye contact with you, hand hovering in the air awkwardly for a few moments before dropping to his side.

"Prefect," he breathed out, his breath fogging in the chill that was synonymous with the evenings nowadays. "Silver..?" You said, words soft as you take a step toward him, a shiver running down your spine. Your cheeks darkened slightly as you gave him a smile.

Dressed in a rather simple dark green coat with a black turtle-neck and black pants, Silver looked as though he had walked out of a fashion magazine. The scarf around his neck was grey and quite obviously a handmade one. You could easily guess whose handiwork it was to be so proudly presented on the silver-haired boy, who was currently peering down at you with his silver eyelashes dusted with snowflakes.

"Oh, I'm so stupid, I should've asked you to come in," you mumbled before ushering him in, and Silver gave you a fond smile. Closing the door behind him, you looked at him properly as Silver removed his coat.

"So... what are you doing here? I thought you were going home for the holidays?"

"Well, I couldn't leave you all alone."

Your heartbeat sped as you looked up at the silver-haired boy, cheeks tinted with the slightest bit of colour at his sweet words. You let out a chuckle, missing the way Silver's eyes seemed to soften.

"I'm not alone, y'know? I have Grim and the ghosts to keep me company," you smiled, and Silver couldn't help himself. His hand reached to hold the side of your face, thumb gently caressing your cheek. You flushed at the gentle touch, looking up at him with a question in your eyes.

"And what if I am alone? What if I need your company?" He asked, words so soft that they might as well have never been spoken. You wondered if he even meant for you to hear them. Heart beating in your chest so fiercely that you worried it may burst out, you asked, "Are you upset that I turned down Malleus' invitation?"

Silver was silent for a few minutes. "Perhaps a little," he admitted bashfully. "I do not want you to feel obliged to visit Briar Valley, but... I cannot help but want to show you the place where I grew up. The place which helped shape me into who I am today."

"When you say it like that.... how am I supposed to tell you no?" You asked, shaking your head with a smile. Silver's eyes widened as his lips stretched into a slight smile. "Are you...? I mean, would you...?"

"Fine, since you asked so nicely," you playfully sigh, "I'll come visit Briar Valley with you. But Silver, you need to promise me something."

"Anything."

"Next time, just ask me directly, you dork."

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