#look at her eyes sparkle! ✨🥹

[tutuandscoot]

Would you just look at these precious lil beans about to go back out on the ice for their encore 🥹

[lizzyiii]

The Dragon’s Treasure has my WHOLE heart 🥹

thank you, babe. i've really enjoyed writing her and aemond

The Dragon's Treasure (3)

pairing | young aemond targaryen x niece!reader

word count | 11k words

summary | “...and for the first time in what felt like ages, you felt a glimmer of happiness for the future.”

tags | as we all know ANGST, ANGST, ANGSTTTT, and eventually rainbow after the storm, SA! (aemonds brothel scene), things do get better y'all, targaryen incest, reader is described to have silver hair and lilac eyes, reader being a sensitive queen, and FLUFF and young love, aemond being a SIMP, TOOTHROTTING FLUFF

a/n | I cried so much, while writing this. I loved writing young aemond, I loved writing young helaena but especially loved writing young reader. I promise you guys this, when I have the time I'll write a one shot of them when they're older and more post-episode 7. When they're older (16&18). Also I really went overboard ngl

likes, comments, reblogs are always appreciated ✨

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 1 — 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 2 — 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You weren’t eating again.

Aemond had overheard his mother’s worried whispers as she discussed your condition with the maesters. He was still angry with you—hurt by the thought that you would try to leave them all behind, leave him behind, without a second thought. But no matter how deep his anger ran, his concern for you ran deeper.

After a long and contemplative ride on Vhagar, the weight of the sky above him and the sea below doing little to settle his thoughts, Aemond sought out his mother.

“Aemond,” Alicent began, her voice weary as she looked down at him, her exhaustion evident in the fine lines around her eyes. Between preparing for Aegon and Helaena's wedding and your worsening state, the strain was taking its toll. “I don’t think she’s in the mood for any visitors.”

She still didn’t know the full truth of what had happened—the attempt to run away with Helaena, the plan you had kept hidden from them all. All Alicent knew was that you had retreated into yourself once more, refusing to speak to anyone, even to Helaena, the one who had once pulled you from your darkness.

“It’s her nameday tomorrow,” Aemond murmured, his voice quiet but steady.

Alicent’s face tightened, pain flashing in her eyes as she thought of how you had been before all this—brighter, more spirited. Aemond continued, his tone soft but resolute. “She likes strawberry cakes. Let me bring her one, Mother. Please.”

Alicent’s gaze softened as she looked at her son. Her sharp, determined boy, scarred both in body and soul, yet still showing more kindness than anyone would expect after all he had endured. He had lost an eye, but his heart—his heart still carried a tenderness that surprised her.

She sighed, her shoulders drooping with the weight of her worries. “Very well,” she said softly. “You have my leave to visit her tomorrow.”

Aemond didn’t smile, didn’t show any hint of relief, though inside, the resolve in his chest tightened. He simply nodded in acknowledgment. His mind had already begun to turn over what he would say to you when he saw you—how he might reach you through the walls you had built around yourself.

Tomorrow was your nameday, and whether you liked it or not, Aemond would be there for you.

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Aemond’s heart raced as he approached your chambers, his hands gripping the tray carrying strawberry cakes. He had spent much of the morning thinking of what else he could bring—perhaps a necklace, something to match the sapphire that lay hidden beneath his eyepatch. You loved jewelry, and he knew how your eyes lit up at the sight of anything that sparkled. But in the end, he settled on simplicity—just the cakes you loved, hoping they would be enough.

As he neared your door, he was greeted by Ser Rowan, your loyal guard, who stood as firm as ever, his expression stern.

“My prince,” Ser Rowan acknowledged with a nod, his voice gruff. “The princess is in no condition to receive visitors today.”

Aemond stiffened, his chest rising as he squared his shoulders. He would not be turned away so easily. “It is her nameday,” he said firmly, his voice laced with authority. He took a step closer, meeting Ser Rowan’s unyielding gaze with his own, violet eye sharp. “The queen has granted me permission to visit her.”

Ser Rowan remained still, but Aemond didn’t back down. He tilted his head slightly, his tone low and challenging. “Will you disobey the Queen’s word?”

There was a moment of silence as the guard’s eyes flicked down to the tray Aemond carried. His stern expression softened just slightly when he saw the strawberry cakes. Ser Rowan let out a heavy sigh, his duty to you outweighing his hesitation. He too wished for your recovery, and perhaps, he thought, a visit from Aemond might bring some light back into your eyes.

“Very well, my prince,” he said at last, stepping aside. He opened the door with a creak, allowing Aemond to enter.

Aemond took a deep breath, holding the tray steady as he stepped into your chambers. The door closed softly behind him, but the room was dim, heavy with silence. His heart clenched at the sight of you curled up on the bed, facing the wall, your small form barely stirring.

"Niece," Aemond’s voice echoed softly through the room, breaking the heavy silence of your chambers.

There was a pause, and then your voice, quiet and tired, reached him. "Go away."

He pursed his lips, setting the tray down gently on the bedside table. The room was dim, shrouded in a pink hue from your curtains, and he made his way over to the window, pulling the drapes wide open. Sunlight poured in, casting the room in a golden glow.

From behind him, you hissed, "Close them." He heard the rustle of your blankets as you pulled them over your head, shielding yourself from the brightness.

Aemond couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips as he turned back to face you. "Happy Nameday," he said, his tone lighter than before. "I brought you something."

"I don’t want it," you muttered from beneath the covers, your voice muffled and distant.

He sat beside you, his movements careful, placing the tray of strawberry cakes within arm’s reach. "I’m sure you will," he replied softly, hoping to coax you out from your cocoon of blankets.

For a few moments, there was nothing—just the faint sounds of the breeze outside and the distant chatter from the courtyard. Aemond sighed, the weight of the silence between you heavier than he could bear. He reached out, his hand hovering just above your arm, but then hesitated. His fingers twitched before he pulled his hand back, unsure of how to communicate with you.

"You know," he began quietly, his voice careful, "I wouldn’t force that on you. To bear children you don’t want. One would be enough."

There was a sharp scoff from beneath the blankets. "How generous of you," you replied, the bitterness in your tone unmistakable.

Aemond’s jaw tightened, but he kept his gaze steady on the blankets that covered you. His mind drifted to the records he had been reading, the histories you both loved to discuss. He knew how much you valued stories of the past, of old kings and queens, of the lives they led. Swallowing, he decided to share what had been on his mind, hoping it might reach you.

"I’ve been reading more since our last talk," he murmured. "About King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne. Even after many children, he made her bear more when she didn’t wish to." His voice was soft but steady, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you. He had been thinking of you, trying to understand your fears.

The sunlight streamed across your bed, casting shadows as Aemond spoke. He knew that love was rare among their kind, especially in Targaryen unions, but he hoped. Hoped that maybe, in time, you would not just be duty and title to him.

"I would never do that to you," he added, his tone sincere, almost vulnerable. "I want our marriage to be different."

The room was still. The only sound was the faint rustling of the breeze outside, and the quiet breathing of Dreamfyre from somewhere far beyond your window. Aemond’s words lingered, waiting for you to respond, to show him something—anything—that might bridge the gap between you.

Slowly, you lowered the blankets just enough for your eyes to peek out, meeting Aemond's gaze. "He was a bad man," you mumbled, referring to King Jaehaerys.

Aemond, ever the scholar, couldn’t resist. "He was a good king," he pointed out, his tone firm but calm.

You rolled your eyes, a small defiance shining through your sadness. "Still a bad man." For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other, and then you added thoughtfully, "Aenys Targaryen was a good man."

Aemond let out a scoff. "He was weak."

You narrowed your eyes at him, but there was a flicker of something behind your lilac gaze, something like amusement. "A weak king, yes. Only because he tried to make everyone happy."

Your eyes shifted towards the tray on the bedside table, where the strawberry cakes sat. After a moment of hesitation, your voice, still tinged with sadness, broke the silence. "Is today really my nameday?"

Aemond nodded, his own expression softening. "Yes."

"Oh." Your response was quiet, almost absent-minded, as if you were still processing.

Aemond reached for the tray and held it out to you, offering a tentative smile. "Would you like one?"

You eyed the cakes, and though your sadness still lingered, something softened in your expression. "Those do look nice," you murmured. Finally, you pulled the blanket away from your face and sat up slowly, your movements careful and deliberate. Though your face remained neutral, devoid of the joy that used to light it up, you gave a small nod. "Alright."

Aemond couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his face as he handed you a cake. It wasn’t much, but seeing you like this—out of bed, talking to him—felt like a small victory.

As you took a bite, your eyes flickered to his once more, and Aemond stayed beside you, content with the simple moment of shared silence, hopeful that things might get better.

Aemond felt as though he were trapped in a cage of unbearable heat, the air around him thick, suffocating. The wine—a dark, bitter liquid that Aegon had forced upon him—now churned wildly in his stomach, its taste sour and unpleasant. He longed to rid himself of it, to escape the strange and unfamiliar sensations overtaking him.

It was after the grand feast in honor of his thirteenth nameday that Aegon, with a sly grin and a glint in his eye, had promised him a "surprise." Aemond, still naive to the darker aspects of his brother’s humor, had followed without protest, his curiosity outweighing his caution. They had ventured deep into King’s Landing, to a shadowed place Aemond had never seen before—a pleasure house filled with laughter and the soft rustling of silks.

Before Aemond could voice his hesitation, Aegon had disappeared into the throng of bodies, swallowed by the merry voices and whispers of the women within. And Aemond was left alone, standing awkwardly, unsure of what was to happen next.

He was led into a small chamber, dimly lit by flickering candles, their soft glow casting strange and unsettling shadows on the walls. The tapestries that adorned the room depicted scenes he barely understood—men and women entwined in ways that seemed more confusing than enticing. He felt a knot tightening in his chest, and a cold wave of dread settled over him.

Then she entered—a woman far older than his mother, her presence overwhelming in the confined space. She smiled at him, her voice soft and syrupy, laced with sweet lies that made his skin crawl. She cooed over him, her hands reaching for him before he had the chance to say anything, her touch gentle yet intrusive as she began to undress him.

Aemond’s heart pounded in his chest, and every fiber of his being screamed for her to stop, to leave him be. But his voice—his strength—had abandoned him. He remained frozen, his limbs stiff and unresponsive as she whispered things into his ear, words he wished he hadn’t heard, promises he didn’t understand.

When it was over, Aemond was left numb. He sat there, silent, as if his body no longer belonged to him, as though he had become something entirely separate from himself. Trembling, he fumbled with his clothes, his fingers shaking as he struggled to dress. His mind was a whirl of confusion, shame, and anger, but above all, he felt the desperate need to flee.

He didn’t care where Aegon had gone, didn’t want to face him or anyone else. The only thought that filled his mind was reaching you, his niece, his betrothed, his future wife, the one person who might make him feel whole again.

His feet carried him through the secret passageways of Maegor’s Holdfast, each step heavy with fear and sorrow. His breaths came in sharp, ragged gasps, his chest aching as he pushed himself to move faster. His tears—hot and unbidden—ran down his cheeks, blurring his vision, but he did not stop.

He passed his own chambers, the rooms of his mother, and everyone else, not wanting to explain the mess of emotions swirling inside him. He only wanted you.

It felt as though the gods had granted Aemond a moment of mercy when he reached your chambers, finding Ser Rowan absent from his post. Without hesitation, he pushed open the door and stepped inside, his heart still racing, tears brimming in his eye as he struggled to hold them back.

You were fast asleep, your back turned toward him. Aemond let out a quiet breath of relief. He hadn’t come to disturb you, only to be near you—just your presence, your warmth, was enough to calm the storm inside him.

Quietly, he made his way to your bed and carefully, as if afraid to wake you, slid in beside you. He kept a respectful distance, not wanting to intrude, but just close enough to feel your presence. The motion stirred you from your sleep, and you sat up, blinking in confusion.

Your eyes widened when they fell on Aemond, and for a brief, horrible moment, he realised it was because of his face. He had forgotten—he had left his eye patch behind at the brothel. The clear ragged sapphire was bare for you to see.

Panic surged through him. You would be disgusted, he thought, repelled by the sight of his disfigurement. He moved to leave, heart pounding, but your voice reached him before he could retreat.

“Aemond, breathe,” you whispered, your strained voice soft and steady.

He froze, his chest tight with the effort to suppress his panic. He needed to leave—he couldn’t bear for you to see him like this. Not you, his dearest niece, who always knew him as strong, as whole. He couldn’t let you witness the broken, ruined side of him.

But then, you reached out, grabbing his trembling hands in your own small ones, your touch warm and gentle. "Please, stay," you whispered, your voice filled with concern. Slowly, you began rubbing his cold hands, trying to bring warmth back to him, both in body and spirit.

His breathing was still uneven, but your soft words and the warmth of your touch soothed him. He looked up, meeting your eyes for the first time. There was no disgust there, no fear—only worry and care. Just like before. Slowly, the tension began to leave his body, and for the first time since he had fled that terrible place, Aemond felt a glimmer of relief.

He swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

You shook your head, squeezing his hands a little tighter. "I don’t care about your face, Aemond," you murmured softly, your tired lilac eyes meeting his. "I care about you."

As you gently laid back onto your pillow, you looked at Aemond with concern, urging him to lie beside you. He hesitated for a moment, but slowly, he did as you asked, his awkward frame seeming out of place in your small bed. You turned to face him, your wide lilac eyes full of care, while Aemond’s own single violet eye struggled to meet yours.

With quiet care, you reached out, placing your small hand on his scarred cheek. He flinched at first, his breath catching in his throat, but you didn’t pull away. Your fingers traced the jagged line of the scar that ran down his face, the skin rough beneath your touch. It was as if you weren’t looking at the scar at all, just him—Aemond, your beloved uncle, the boy who protected you, who read to you, who you always knew to be brave.

He shivered under your touch, his emotions twisting inside him. But you said nothing more, just a quiet, simple comfort.

“Sleep, Aemond,” you whispered softly, your voice gentle and soothing. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

The words wrapped around him like a balm, a promise in the soft glow of the dim candlelight. For so long, Aemond had carried his burdens alone, but in this moment, with your hand on his face and your soft breath mingling with the night air, he felt something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel since Driftmark—peace.

His eye fluttered shut, and with the rhythm of your breathing beside him, he let himself drift away, finally surrendering to sleep.

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Aemond entered your chambers quietly, the weight of the box in his hands almost insignificant compared to the heaviness that lingered in the air. He had been allowed to visit freely now, thanks to Ser Rowan's softening stance, but each visit felt like walking on a thread, delicate and uncertain.

He paused when he saw you on the chaise, struggling with your embroidery. The soft light from the window highlighted the paleness of your features—still recovering, still distant, but better than before. You were eating now, and though your mood hadn't brightened, that small improvement brought Aemond some comfort. He cherished these moments, even if they were shrouded in silence.

"I've brought something for you," he said, his voice steady yet quiet as he approached.

You glanced up from your work but said nothing. The tangled mess of threads on the pillow caught his eye, and he bent slightly to inspect it, attempting to mask the awkwardness he always felt in the wake of that night. He hadn’t been ready to speak of it, and thankfully, neither had you.

"That’s a nice lion," Aemond offered, pointing to the uneven form stitched into the fabric.

Your lips parted slightly, a faint glimmer of amusement mixing with frustration as you murmured, "It was supposed to be the Queen."

Aemond’s lips twitched in response, nodding solemnly as if in deep thought. "Now that you say it," he replied, his voice light, "I do recognize her hair."

With a small sigh, you tossed the pillow aside like it was something offensive, watching as it tumbled to the floor, forgotten. Your eyes flickered towards the box in Aemond’s hands, suspicion mingling with curiosity.

"What have you brought me?" you asked, your voice quiet, but holding a hint of anticipation.

Aemond didn’t reply at first, simply stepping forward and offering the box to you, his expression unreadable. You hesitated for a moment, then carefully took it from him.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you lifted the lid, pulling back the fine paper that covered the gift inside. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you uncovered a stunning gown—lilac silk adorned with delicate embroidery, tiny jewels catching the light like stars. Your hands traced the fabric, feeling the softness beneath your fingertips, the craftsmanship clear in every stitch.

Aemond watched you intently, his eyes never leaving your face. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was a shift in your expression—a glimmer of something that almost resembled joy.

"Do you like it?" he asked, his voice low, holding his breath as he awaited your response.

You glanced up at him, and for the first time in many moons, you smiled. It was small, barely there, but it warmed Aemond's heart like the sun after a long winter.

"Yes, I do," you replied softly, still admiring the gown. "What's it for?"

"Helaena's wedding."

At once, the warmth in the room seemed to drain away. The smile you had given Aemond, fleeting as it was, vanished, leaving a hollow silence in its wake. His heart sank, watching as you carefully folded the gown, tucking it back into the box with deliberate gentleness. The delicate fabric crinkled under your hands as though it were something too precious to be touched, something that no longer belonged to you.

"I'm afraid you've wasted your efforts," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, your gaze fixed on the gown. "I'm not going."

Aemond's brow furrowed, frustration bubbling beneath his calm exterior. He stepped closer, his voice steady yet urgent. "You have to go."

But you refused to meet his eye. You knew how intense his gaze could be, how easily it could pierce through your defenses. Staring at the box instead, you shook your head, your words coming out firm, resolute. "I won't."

Aemond's lips pressed into a thin line, the familiar weight of your stubbornness settling between you both. "Helaena needs you," he urged, his tone softening, as if pleading might sway you.

You let out a bitter sigh, your fingers tracing the edge of the box, a dull ache settling in your chest. "Well, perhaps I can hurt her the same way she hurt me," you muttered, your words tinged with petulance, though the pain beneath them was clear.

Aemond stood in silence for a long moment, weighing your words, the tension in the air thick between you. His voice, quieter this time, broke the silence like a whisper carried on the wind. "Will you really not go?"

"No," you replied, though your voice softened now, the sharp edge of defiance fading. You hesitated, a flicker of doubt crossing your face. You raised your chin, trying to hold onto the last bit of resolve. "Now, is that all you've come to visit me for?"

Aemond's heart ached at the sight of you—so distant, so caught in your own sorrow. He stood there, unsure of how to reach you, the distance between you feeling far more than just the space in the room.

The day of Helaena’s wedding arrived, and just as you had promised, you didn’t go. Aemond had come to your chambers in the morning, his expression pleading as he urged you one last time to change your mind. His words were careful, filled with the weight of his disappointment, but still, you remained firm.

You had refused.

As the sun set, casting a warm golden hue across the castle walls, you lay alone in your chambers, curled beneath the thick blankets on your bed. The echoes of the celebrations reached your ears in faint murmurs, muffled by the heavy stone of the keep. The joyous sounds of laughter and music only seemed to deepen the ache in your heart.

It was when night fell fully that the tears came, slow at first, then faster, spilling onto your pillow as regret took hold of you. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, but it did little to stop the sadness that had finally caught up to you. You could see it so clearly in your mind—Helaena standing alone in the grand Sept, a pale and fragile figure, her face drawn with sorrow. You imagined her forced to marry Aegon, the brother you both knew was unfit for her, and the weight of your absence pressed hard on your chest.

How could you not have been there for her?

The thought made you feel smaller, childish even. You had let your anger and hurt guide you, and in doing so, you had abandoned Helaena on one of the worst days of her life. She was likely miserable, her heart heavy with sadness, and you, spiteful and stubborn, had stayed away. You bit your lip, choking back a sob.

Your gaze drifted to the gown Aemond had gifted you, still lying folded neatly in the box by your bedside, untouched, its lilac fabric gleaming faintly in the moonlight. You reached for it now, pulling the soft material through your fingers as though it could offer you some comfort.

But it didn’t.

It only reminded you of the mistake you had made.

You missed your mother.

For all the hurt she caused, all the ways she had abandoned you, there was still a deep ache for her, like a wound that wouldn’t heal. You wanted to hate her, truly despise her for leaving you behind. But no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t. The love for her still clung to you like a shadow you couldn’t lose.

As the days passed in the quiet isolation of your chambers, you began to understand things you hadn’t before. With each lonely hour, the weight of your thoughts pressed harder on your heart. Your mother had been selfish, more than you had ever allowed yourself to admit. She had promised you the world, and yet, in the end, she had given you nothing.

You were her firstborn, the eldest of her children, and yet the title that should have been yours had been passed to Jace. He was her heir to the Iron Throne, the future king, while you were left to the shadows. Even Driftmark, the seat of your grandsire, should have been yours by birthright, but it had been given to Luke instead.

The bitterness inside you grew with every thought. You hated them now—your brothers. You knew it was childish, petulant even, but the feelings were there, and they wouldn’t leave. They had taken everything from you. Titles that were rightfully yours, the pride of riding dragons, and worst of all, they still had your mother. They were together as one big happy family on Dragonstone, while you had been left here in King's Landing, a forgotten daughter in the midst of their enemies.

“It’s fine,” you whispered to yourself in the dark, trying to believe it. You had never liked Dragonstone anyway, with its cold winds and sharp rocks. But even as you said it, your heart tightened with the lie. You missed the place, the warmth of the hearth, the sight of the sea from your window, and the feeling of belonging—something you hadn’t felt in so long.

And in the quiet moments, when the anger settled and the room was still, you knew the truth. It wasn’t your brothers’ fault. They hadn’t asked for this, to be born as they were, with all the whispers and shadows cast over their lineage. No, it was your mother’s choices that had led to this. Her indiscretions. But even as that truth formed in your mind, you found that you couldn’t hate her.

It was easier to be angry with them—with Jace and Luke—because hating her, the one you loved most, was something you just couldn’t bear.

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"I hated you, you know."

Aemond's head jerked up, eyes widening at the unexpected words. He had been sitting quietly in your chambers, absorbed in a thick tome about the horrors of Essos. You stood across the room, brush in hand, painting the pink walls of your chamber as if it were any other day. But there was a tension in the air, a weight to your voice that made his heart quicken.

You didn’t look at him, your gaze fixed on the canvas as you murmured, "When you claimed Vhagar, I hated you."

The words hung in the air, sharp and heavy. Aemond’s mouth parted slightly, but no words came out. His heart pounded in his chest as he watched you. The stillness of the room was broken only by the soft strokes of your brush against the canvas.

"I feel as if I hate everyone," you continued, voice tight and strained. "I hate Luke and Jace for stealing my titles." Your brush moved faster, more aggressively. "I hate Daemon for stealing my mother. I even hate Baela and Rhaena, if only because they get to have her now, as if she’s theirs instead of mine."

A scoff escaped your lips, but the sound was bitter. Aemond noticed the way your hand trembled slightly, how your breath caught as tears glistened in your lilac eyes.

"I hated Helaena for not running away with me," you whispered, the words coming out choked. "And I hate myself for not having a dragon, for not being someone important, someone worthy of a title."

Tears began streaming down your face, and yet you kept painting, as if the act itself could somehow keep the flood of emotions at bay. Finally, your gaze lifted from the canvas and met Aemond’s. His heart clenched at the sight of your tear-streaked face.

"And I hated you," you said, voice breaking, "for claiming Vhagar and leaving me alone in this world."

The sob that followed was wrenching, and Aemond couldn’t stay still any longer. He moved toward you, closing the distance between you both with careful, deliberate steps. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest, your head resting on his shoulder as you wept.

"I don’t want to feel this way," you cried into his tunic, voice muffled and raw. "So pathetic, so angry at everyone. But I can’t help it. And yet, no matter how hard I try, I can never hate her."

Aemond’s chest tightened at your words, his own emotions swirling in a storm he didn’t know how to express. He rested his chin gently on your head, holding you as tightly as he dared, feeling the weight of your pain as if it were his own.

"I know," he whispered softly, his voice rough with emotion. "I know."

And so he held you, offering no more words, just the quiet comfort of his presence as your tears slowly soaked into his shoulder. He wished he could consume your pain and take it away, wished he could make things right. But all he could do was stand there, arms around you, as the world outside seemed so far away.

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“How is Helaena?”

It was the first time in what felt like forever that you had left your chambers. Aemond had been persistent, urging you to take some air, to leave the four walls that had become your prison. Reluctantly, you agreed, and now the two of you sat beneath the heart tree in the Godswood, surrounded by the stillness of nature. Aemond had brought a stack of books, ones he knew you both enjoyed, hoping they might distract you.

“The same as ever,” Aemond answered absently, his attention flickering between the pages of the book in his lap and the rustling leaves above.

He paused, glancing up at you. "She’s set to give birth in three moons' time," he added, his voice soft, as if the thought still surprised him.

You looked down, your heart aching at how quickly time had passed. It had been almost two years since you had returned to King’s Landing, and though you tried to avoid thinking about it, you knew things would never be the same. “Is her pregnancy going well?” you asked quietly, your voice small against the whisper of the wind.

Aemond pursed his lips, his brow furrowing in thought. “She has strange cravings," he said, his voice low. "And her belly is… large, perhaps too large for just six moons.” He hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on you. “I’m sure a visit from you would lift her spirits,” he suggested, his tone careful, as though he didn’t want to push too hard.

You shook your head almost immediately, your silver curls spilling over your shoulders. “I’m not sure it would,” you murmured, your voice full of doubt.

Aemond studied you for a long moment, his sharp violet eye watching the way your expression shifted, the way your gaze seemed to turn inward. "She speaks of you sometimes," he said quietly, trying to find the right words to reach you. "She misses you."

You sighed, pulling your knees to your chest as you looked away from him, your fingers tracing idle patterns in the grass. You missed her too.

Aemond, noticing the sadness clouding your face, cleared his throat, quickly steering the conversation elsewhere. “Perhaps when you feel better,” he began, his voice lighter, “you could join me on a ride with Vhagar.”

Your head snapped up in surprise. “Me? Ride Vhagar?” You shook your head. “I’m not sure Vhagar would like me. A loud, annoying girl.”

Aemond raised a brow, his face dead serious. “If that were true, Vhagar would’ve eaten Baela and Rhaena years ago.”

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you laughed. A real laugh, bubbling up from deep within, spilling out in a way that felt foreign yet so relieving. Two years of being shut away in your chambers, and now here you were, laughing at Aemond’s dry humor. The sound filled the Godswood, bright and full of life.

Aemond, momentarily stunned, blinked at you in astonishment. He hadn’t expected it, not after everything, but when his mind caught up, a broad smile tugged at his lips. The kind of smile that was rare for him, genuine and unguarded.

“Vhagar will love you,” he said, his voice quiet but sure. He hesitated for just a moment, his thoughts turning to words he longed to say but didn’t. Just as I do, he thought. But instead, he insisted with a warmth in his tone, “I’m sure of that.”

You gave a small shrug, murmuring, "Maybe," without truly committing to the idea.

Aemond studied your face for a moment, his heart lighter at the sound of your earlier laughter, and before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out. "I claimed Vhagar for the both of us."

Your expression shifted in an instant, the color draining from your face as you stared at him. "What?" you mumbled, barely above a whisper.

Aemond averted his gaze, trying to appear casual, though his heart raced. "I remembered what you said—about sharing a dragon. And when your dragon egg didn’t hatch, I decided... Vhagar should be for both of us." He looked up, meeting your startled lilac eyes with his steady violet one. "For you and me to share."

Tears welled in your eyes without warning, and Aemond’s calm composure crumbled. He immediately scrambled to your side, kneeling in the grass and reaching out to comfort you. "No, no, I didn’t mean to make you cry," he said, his hands hovering nervously, unsure of what to do.

You waved his hands away, though a small smile began to form through your tears. "I feel a bit foolish now," you admitted, as tears continued to fall down your cheeks.

Aemond took your hands gently in his, bringing them to his lips in a tender kiss. "And so?" He whispered, his gaze filled with sincerity.

As the tears dried on your cheeks, you let out a shaky breath, though your nose remained a bit red. "But... I think Vhagar is much more suited for you," you finally said, your voice still soft but calmer.

Aemond nodded, willing to agree if it brought you comfort. "Will you still consider joining me?" he asked, his tone hopeful.

You looked at him, your smile returning, this time more playful. "I shall," you said with a teasing glint in your eyes, your hands still resting in his.

──────────────────────────────

"Princess, are you almost done?"

Ser Rowan’s voice was tinged with exasperation as he stood with arms raised, holding the pose you had instructed. You had begged him to model for your painting when he arrived to greet you at dawn, and now the sun was climbing high in the sky, casting warm rays through the window. Despite the time, he remained your patient subject.

"Almost, Ser Rowan," you replied cheerfully, your brush gliding across the canvas as you focused on capturing the details of his expression.

The knight let out a weary sigh, feeling his muscles beginning to stiffen. Yet he would endure anything to keep the smile on your face; he was your willing captive, devoted to your whims.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and Ser Rowan instinctively straightened, positioning himself protectively in front of you. He relaxed his stance when he saw Prince Aemond enter, though a worried look darkened the prince's features.

"Aemond, what’s wrong?" you asked, your brow furrowing in concern as you set down your brush.

The prince was out of breath, urgency threading through his voice. "Helaena went into labor last night. It’s been long and difficult. She’s calling for you."

Your eyes widened, and you opened your mouth in shock, struggling to find your voice amidst the sudden rush of fear and worry.

Before you could respond, Ser Rowan spoke softly but firmly. "Princess, we must go."

You nodded, the news settling in your stomach like a stone, heavy and cold. You hurriedly followed Aemond and Ser Rowan out of your chamber, your heart pounding with a mix of concern and guilt.

Thoughts raced through your mind—what would you say to Helaena? Would she forgive you for not being there these past months? You hadn’t seen her in nearly ten moons, too consumed by your own sadness to leave your room.

As the three of you made your way to the birthing chambers, the air felt thick with anticipation. Upon reaching the door, you encountered another guard who bowed respectfully at your approach.

"The princess has successfully given birth, your Highnesses," he announced, his voice steady.

You and Aemond exchanged a glance, relief washing over you, and he offered you an encouraging nod. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to enter and see Helaena, the weight of your past decisions lingering in the back of your mind, but hope beginning to spark within your heart.

As you stepped into the chamber, your eyes immediately found Queen Alicent standing in the center, cradling a tiny bundle in her arms. A soft glow of love radiated from her as she looked down at Helaena's babe, a precious life nestled against her.

Your gaze shifted, and you gasped softly when you finally spotted Helaena on the birthing bed. To your astonishment, she was holding another baby as well.

"Twins," you murmured, the words slipping out louder than intended, catching the attention of both the Queen and Helaena.

Alicent's eyes widened in surprise, and a warm smile spread across her face at the sight of you. "Princess, it brings me joy to see you out of your chambers," she said, her voice gentle.

You nodded, feeling a rush of embarrassment as you shifted your gaze back to Helaena. She was already looking at you, her expression filled with a mix of fatigue and joy. Slowly, you approached the bed, holding your breath as you took in the sight before you.

The babe in Helaena's arms had the unmistakable silver hair of House Targaryen, a stark contrast to the dark-haired children of your brothers. You couldn’t tell if it was a boy or girl, but the sight of the tiny face, so fragile and perfect, made your heart swell.

"What are their names?" you asked softly, careful not to disturb the babe's slumber. Your voice barely rose above a whisper, filled with wonder.

A tiny smile bloomed on Helaena's weary face, her eyes lighting up with pride. She gestured to the babe nestled in her arms. "This is Jaehaera," she said, her voice tender. Then she nodded toward the child cradled by Queen Alicent. "And that is Jaehaerys."

You nodded slowly, feeling a swell of warmth at the names, though a shadow lingered in your mind. You didn’t dare ask where Aegon was; the thought of him missing the birth of his children felt too heavy to voice. Carefully, you settled beside Helaena on the birthing bed, the air filled with soft silence and the smell of newborns.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, unable to meet her gaze as your eyes traced the delicate features of Jaehaera. The babe's tiny fingers curled and unfurled, and your heart ached with a mix of joy and regret.

Helaena's hand found yours, giving a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry too," she replied, her voice thick with emotion.

Looking up at her, a relieved smile broke through your sadness, tears glistening in your eyes. In that moment, the past felt a little lighter, the bond between you strengthening. But then Helaena's expression turned hopeful. "Would you like to hold her?"

You immediately shook your head, anxiety creeping in. "I don't know how."

"I didn’t know how either before this," Helaena said, her voice soft and encouraging. She carefully passed Jaehaera into your arms. You cradled the babe as if she were made of glass, your heart racing with both fear and delight. "It’s very easy."

A small laugh escaped you, bubbling with nervousness. "She’s very small."

"Yes," Helaena murmured, a hint of nostalgia in her tone. "Just as we were once."

You gazed down at the sleeping babe, feeling the weight of her tiny form in your arms. You glanced up at Helaena, her eyes shining with love and hope, and for the first time in what felt like ages, you felt a glimmer of happiness for the future.

You let out a huge yawn as you finally walked back to your chambers, the weight of the day settling on your shoulders. You had spent most of your time in Helaena's chambers, cradling Jaehaerys and Jaehaera in your arms. Queen Alicent had eagerly encouraged your visits, saying it was good practice for when you would have your own children with Aemond.

The thought felt strange yet comforting. After so many hours spent with the tiny babes, you found yourself warming to the idea of one day having a child with Aemond. Of course, that was a distant thought; you were only twelve now, and marriage was still years away. Yet, the notion no longer filled you with dread.

As your health improved and your mood lightened, Queen Alicent insisted you return to your princess lessons with Septa Agertha. The strict septa had been happy to resume your lessons, and to your surprise, she seemed kinder and softer than before, guiding you patiently through your studies.

Despite your busy days, you always tried to carve out time for Aemond. You cherished those moments, whether you were reading together in the library, basking in the sunlight of the gardens, or watching him train with his sword. Today, you couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly he took down Aegon during practice, his movements fluid and precise.

As you entered your chambers, your eyes immediately narrowed at the sight of Aemond standing amidst the soft pinks of your room, a striking contrast in his dark green leather. He looked entirely out of place, and the nervous smile tugging at his lips only deepened your suspicion.

"It is highly improper for you to visit my chambers so late, Aemond," you teased, crossing your arms as you arched an eyebrow. "Does Ser Rowan know about this?"

Aemond’s smile grew as he replied with a hint of mystery, "Ser Rowan does not know all the entrances to your room."

You rolled your eyes, amused but unconvinced. However, something behind Aemond caught your attention—a small object sitting on your table. You moved closer, but Aemond swiftly stepped in front of you, his hands gently resting on your waist to stop you.

"Wait," he said quickly, clearing his throat. "Before you get angry… don’t. Just trust me."

You eyed him suspiciously but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

"Happy Nameday," Aemond said quietly, almost as if he were embarrassed by the gesture.

You blinked, raising an eyebrow. "Aemond, my nameday was a week ago."

"Still," he muttered, avoiding your gaze for a moment.

With curiosity getting the better of you, you gently pushed past him, approaching the table where the mysterious item sat. There, on the table, was a small brazier pot, the kind used for hatching dragon eggs. Your heart quickened as you slowly lifted the lid.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips when you saw the sparkly navy blue egg resting inside, hot as ever. "Aemond," you whispered, feeling a mix of exasperation and affection.

Aemond stepped up behind you, resting his chin lightly on your shoulder as he whispered in your ear, "I know. But you know what they say—fourth time’s the charm."

You let out a soft laugh, rolling your eyes as you turned to face him. Your noses were practically touching as you corrected him, "It’s third time’s the charm, you stubborn idiot."

"I also brought strawberry cakes," Aemond said, seeing that the sight of the dragon egg had done little to lift your spirits.

You tilted your head with a small smile, "You know the way to my heart, Aemond Targaryen."

The two of you found yourselves lounging on your grand pink canopy bed, nestled among the cushions, feasting on strawberry cakes that Aemond had brought for you. The scent of the sweet berries filled the air, and for a moment, all seemed simple and light in your world.

“Aemond, I’ve been thinking,” you began thoughtfully, wiping a bit of cream from your lips.

Aemond raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a mischievous smirk. “My, my, that is worrisome,” he teased, his voice playful.

You shot him a sharp glare before rolling your eyes. With a lift of your chin, you said firmly, “I’ve decided our first child must be a girl.”

Aemond blinked at you, stunned by the declaration. “You understand we do not get to choose, yes?”

You waved his words away dismissively, as if the very idea of leaving such an important matter to chance was absurd. “I believe if I am firm in my belief, then I shall have the choice,” you replied with the confidence only a twelve-year-old could muster.

Aemond gave you a long, bemused look, as if weighing your words for any sense. After a moment, he sighed and shook his head. “Why?” he asked, indulging your fanciful notion.

“Do not mistake me,” you began, leaning back into the pillows with a thoughtful expression. “I love both Jaehaera and Jaehaerys equally. And if we were to have a son, I would love him just as much.”

A big, silly grin spread across your face as you continued, “But I want a daughter. I want to dress her up, match with her, and have her follow me around in little gowns.”

Aemond gave you a knowing look. “You have Jaehaera for that.”

You pouted dramatically, the cake in your hand momentarily forgotten. “It’s not the same. Jaehaera is Helaena’s, not mine.”

Aemond chuckled softly at your logic. “Alright, alright,” he conceded, raising his hands as if surrendering. “I shall pray to the Seven for us to be blessed with a daughter first.”

Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “Perhaps a daughter and a son at the same time?”

You glared at him, flicking a cake crumb in his direction. “Why would you wish something like that upon me? Twins?” You shook your head vehemently.

Aemond’s amused smile only widened as he met your deathly serious gaze. “You’re right, my bad,” he said with a chuckle, brushing the crumb off his tunic.

You huffed, but your irritation quickly melted away as you stuffed another bite of cake into your mouth, a small smile tugging at your lips. Despite his teasing, you knew that Aemond would pray to the Seven for whatever you wished—even if that meant asking for something as impossible as choosing your firstborn's gender.

You glanced down at the strawberry cake in your hand, scrunching your nose. "With all this cake you keep bringing me, Aemond, I’m going to grow fat."

Aemond gave you a thoughtful look, his expression serious yet teasing at the same time. "And? Do they not say that more is always better?"

You tried to hold back your amusement, but despite your best effort, a smile tugged at your lips. You sighed, shaking your head as you chuckled softly. "You’re incorrigible."

Aemond tilted his head, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. "Perhaps. But I speak the truth." His eye glimmered as they held yours for a moment longer. "A bit of extra weight would not lessen your beauty."

You blushed, looking away from him as you fiddled with the edge of your dress. "You say that now," you muttered, trying to sound annoyed, but your heart felt light.

"I shall always say that," Aemond countered smoothly, his voice unwavering, as if he truly meant every word. "No matter what the years bring, you will always be perfect to me."

A warmth spread through you, making your cheeks burn even more. You tried to dismiss it, waving a hand at him. "You just want me to keep eating cake so I’ll be too heavy to run away when you’re being impossible."

Aemond smiled at that, his violet eye gleaming with mirth. "Perhaps. Or maybe I just enjoy seeing you happy. And if it takes cake to do that, so be it."

You laughed then, shaking your head at him. "You’ve won this time, but I’ll have my revenge when I’m too fat to walk."

Aemond smirked, leaning closer to you with a satisfied look. "I’ll carry you, then."

You tilted your head, rolling your eyes at Aemond, wondering why he was looking at you like that, as if the world had shifted between the two of you. Somehow, without realizing it, you had drifted closer, your faces mere inches apart. You could feel his breath, soft and warm, as he leaned in further. His eye fluttered shut, and your heart skipped a beat as you sensed what was coming.

Before anything could happen, your hand instinctively shot up, covering his mouth. Aemond froze, opening his eye wide to see you staring at him with confusion. "What are you doing?" you asked, your voice full of suspicion.

He mumbled something beneath your hand, and you lowered it, giving him a curious look as you tried to catch his words.

Clearing his throat, clearly embarrassed, he murmured, "I was trying to kiss you."

You squinted at him, still doubtful. "Aemond," you began cautiously, "Septa Agertha says if a maiden and a man kiss, she’ll become with child. And I think we should at least wait until the twins’ first nameday before we bring another baby into the castle."

Aemond’s lips pressed together tightly, trying to suppress a laugh. His ears turned red as he responded, "Maidens do not become pregnant because of kisses."

"Then how do they become with child?" you asked, raising a challenging brow, your tone daring him to contradict what you’d been taught.

Aemond’s face flushed deeply, and his gaze flickered away in sheer embarrassment. He seemed to search for a way to avoid the topic. "Your Septa will tell you... in time," he muttered, clearly hoping to escape further questioning.

You were about to protest, about to accuse your Septa of lying again—how could you trust her after she said that about kissing? But the sight of Aemond’s bright red cheeks and the way he squirmed told you it was better to drop it. So, with a sigh, you decided to change the subject. "So then," you asked, "why do people kiss if it’s not to make babies?"

Aemond shifted awkwardly before murmuring, "To show affection. It’s what people do when they love each other. Married couples especially."

You raised a skeptical eyebrow, folding your arms. "I’ve never seen my mother and father kiss. And I’ve never seen Grandsire and the Queen kiss either."

Aemond made an exasperated sound, running a hand through his hair. "Well... they’re different," he said, sounding both frustrated and amused.

You tilted your head again, considering his words. "Different how?"

"Just different," Aemond replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he looked at you. "Not everyone is... affectionate like that."

"So, you want to kiss me because you’re affectionate?" you teased, a small smirk growing on your face.

Aemond’s ears burned again, and he glanced away, muttering under his breath. "Something like that..."

You tilted your head, watching him with amusement before shrugging nonchalantly. "Alright," you said, as if it were the most casual thing in the world. "You may kiss me."

Aemond's head snapped back toward you, his eye wide in disbelief. "Really?" he asked, unsure if you were being serious.

You nodded, offering him a small smile before puckering your lips in a way you thought was appropriate for a kiss. "Go on, then," you said, your lips pursed in a dramatic display.

Aemond stared at you for a moment, utterly bewildered. "You can't stare at me like that," he finally managed, his voice a little strangled as he glanced away again, clearly nervous.

Rolling your eyes, you sighed, "Alright, Aemond," and then did as he requested, squeezing your eyes shut. You sat there, waiting for him to make the first move, your heart thumping in your chest even though you tried to act as though it didn’t matter at all.

The room felt strangely quiet, save for the soft crackling of the fire in the hearth. You could hear Aemond shift slightly, feel the warmth of him as he leaned in closer. The air between you felt charged, as if something important was about to happen.

His breath ghosted across your lips, soft and hesitant, and your heart skipped a beat. But just as you thought the kiss was going to happen, Aemond hesitated again.

"Are you certain?" he whispered, his voice soft and uncertain, as if he didn’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable.

Without opening your eyes, you replied with a huff, "Yes, Aemond. Just do it."

Aemond finally leaned in, pressing his lips gently to yours in the briefest of kisses. It was awkward and tentative, like neither of you really knew what you were doing, but it was soft and sweet in its own way.

When he pulled back, you opened your eyes, blinking at him. The two of you sat there for a moment, staring at each other in silence, unsure of what to say or do next.

"Well?" Aemond asked, his voice low, his cheeks still a little flushed. "How was that?"

You pursed your lips, considering. "It wasn’t so bad," you admitted, then smiled, a hint of mischief in your eyes. "But I don't think that’ll make me with child, so Septa Agertha must be wrong after all."

Aemond let out a small, relieved chuckle, the tension easing from his shoulders. "No," he agreed quietly, "that won't make you with child."

You both shared a soft laugh, the awkwardness melting away as you realized it wasn’t as strange or nerve-wracking as you thought it would be.

Still, after a moment, you tilted your head and added thoughtfully, "Mayhaps we can try again another time... just to make sure."

Aemond’s face broke into a wide grin at your words, and he shook his head, still amused. "Whenever you like," he promised softly, his voice full of warmth.

Aemond’s smile remained as you shared a quiet moment, a comfortable warmth settling between the two of you. His words, soft and full of promise, made your heart flutter a little, though you tried to ignore it. Just as you were about to speak, a strange sound filled the room.

You paused, frowning in confusion as the sound persisted. Aemond’s brow furrowed, and he gave you the same puzzled look. "What is that?" you asked, your voice low and uncertain.

Before Aemond could answer, the sound came again, louder this time—a soft, irregular rattling, like something gently tapping against metal. Both of you turned your heads toward the source of the noise, your eyes settling on the small brazier pot resting on the table beside your chaise.

The pot was trembling slightly, the lid shifting ever so subtly as if something within was stirring to life.

You exchanged a wary glance with Aemond, both of you too stunned to speak. Hope flickered in your chest, a fragile, cautious feeling that you tried desperately to suppress, even though it grew with each passing second. You didn’t want to feel it—not again. Not after so many failed attempts, so many disappointments.

But as the rattling continued, you couldn’t help but let that hope bloom, filling your chest with an almost painful intensity. You could feel Aemond's steady gaze on you, as if he too shared your mixture of anticipation and disbelief. His hand lightly touched your arm, offering silent reassurance as you both stood frozen in place.

Finally, the rattling grew louder, more insistent. Aemond moved first, stepping cautiously toward the brazier pot, his movements careful, as if approaching something fragile and dangerous all at once.

Your heart pounded in your ears as Aemond gently reached out and lifted the lid.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. You held your breath, waiting, expecting the worst, but then—

A small, sharp crack echoed through the air, and your breath hitched in your throat. Aemond’s eye widened in astonishment as he stepped back slightly, motioning for you to come closer.

With shaky steps, you moved forward, peering into the brazier pot. Inside, nestled among the glowing embers, was the dragon egg—your dragon egg. And it was moving.

Tiny cracks began to spread across the surface, like delicate lines etched into stone. A tiny chirp escaped from within, soft yet insistent, and your heart leapt in your chest.

Aemond’s voice was barely a whisper, full of wonder. "It’s hatching."

You didn’t dare speak, afraid that if you did, the fragile moment would shatter. Instead, you watched in awe as the cracks grew wider, the shell breaking apart bit by bit.

Slowly, a tiny snout poked through the shell, followed by a pair of gleaming, sapphire-blue eyes that blinked up at you curiously.

Aemond’s hand slipped into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you allowed yourself to smile.

"It’s really happening," you whispered, barely able to contain the joy welling up inside you.

Aemond stood beside you, his gaze never leaving the hatchling, and he nodded, his voice low but filled with a kind of quiet awe. "Yes, it is."

The tiny dragon stretched its delicate wings, the membrane translucent in the firelight, revealing the rich, dark blue that shimmered against the glow. It was so small, fragile even, yet there was a certain strength in its movements, as though it knew its place in the world. Its scales appeared nearly black in the dim light, but with each flicker of the brazier’s flame, a glint of deep sapphire blue reflected back at you, shimmering like the ocean at night.

You couldn't hold back the soft laugh that bubbled from your lips, a sound of pure, unrestrained joy. Your laughter caught the attention of the little dragon, whose head turned sharply towards you. It blinked, tilting its head, studying you with wide, curious eyes before letting out a sharp screech in response. The sound, though high-pitched, was surprisingly strong for such a tiny creature.

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over, as you knelt closer, your hand trembling slightly as you reached out, but you stopped just short of touching it. It felt too precious, too delicate to handle without care.

"Hello," you murmured, your voice soft and gentle, as though speaking to an infant. "Aren't you absolutely beautiful."

The little dragon blinked again, watching you intently. Its tiny nostrils flared as it took in the scent of the air, its wings fluttering slightly as it made a sound that almost resembled a purr. You couldn't help but smile wider, your heart swelling with affection.

Aemond crouched down beside you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder as he watched the dragon with a look of pride and admiration. "You were meant for each other," he said, his voice filled with certainty.

You looked up at him, tears still brimming in your eyes, and nodded. "I think so," you whispered.

For a long moment, the two of you sat there in quiet awe, watching as the dragon stretched its limbs, adjusting to the world it had just entered. It was strange how something so small could carry such weight, as if this tiny creature already held within it the potential for something great, something magnificent.

As the little dragon shifted closer to you, its warmth radiated through the air, and you felt a bond forming, something deeper than words could express. This was more than just a pet, more than a companion. This was a piece of your soul, reflected in scales and wings, fire and strength.

Aemond’s smile softened as he watched you with the newborn dragon, his gaze flicking between the two of you with a quiet fondness. "What will you name it?" he asked, his voice barely above a murmur, as though speaking too loudly might shatter the moment.

You beamed at the little creature before you, a warmth blooming in your chest as you finally dared to reach out. Gently, you brushed your knuckle against her soft, dark scales. She—yes, she was definitely a girl, you were certain of it—immediately leaned into your touch, her tiny body pressing closer, as if seeking comfort from your warmth.

"Treasure," you whispered, the name slipping from your lips without hesitation. A wide, contented smile grew on your face. "Her name is Treasure."

Aemond blinked, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected name, but then a grin spread across his face, lighting up his features. Of course, you would name your dragon something soft, something sweet and endearing. It was just like you to choose a name that carried such a feeling of warmth, rather than something fierce and grand.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "Treasure?" he repeated, his eye twinkling with affection as he looked at you.

You looked up at him, still stroking the dragon’s scales, and nodded firmly. "Yes. Because she’s my treasure," you said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Aemond’s grin only widened as he crouched down beside you again, watching as Treasure nestled closer to your hand, clearly content with the name and her newfound bond with you. "A fitting name," he said quietly, and in that moment, as he watched you and your dragon together, he could see how the two of you were meant for each other.

Treasure let out a soft, sleepy sound, curling closer to the warmth of your hand, and you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of peace. The bond between you and your dragon was only beginning, but it was already something special—something that would only grow stronger with time.

this is anything but the end

guyssss help, im literally crying thinking about young rhaenyra (milly) and reader as a baby. how reader probably became rhaenyra's new best friend and was the only thing keeping her going in court. And how rhaenyra would talk to her as a full-grown person, while reader, being a baby, would just babble back. And how rhaenyra would probably walk around taking her baby everywhere and riding on Syrax with her. BYE lol that just makes it all sadder

(side note in my head ive decided to give reader/y/n the most basic hotd name and name her aemma. because when she has her own daughter with aemond, she'll name her laenora after her father)

Treasure The dragon

I can just imagine reader doing that Sweeney Todd trend with Treasure:

ohh mr.todd 💋 i'm so happy 💋 I could - 💋 eat you up I really could. you know what I like to do mr. todd 💋 what I dream 💋

Ser Rowan

(it's rick grimes because I say so) (note I've only watched two episodes of the walking dead)

Reader's Mind in a nutshell

(I feel if I made this into a full time fic, reader could lowkey have saved the family and avoided the dance of the dragons entirely)

Hope you enjoyed!

Names that are in bold are ones that couldn't be added :(

@evernores @jouryuu @dbd-mommy @g-cf2020 @sl-ut @radiantdanvers @sillysillygyalsmh @callsignwidow @missyviolet123 @thelastemzy @lechat-rouge @sonichkkaaascreams @djarinsstuff @yovrnewromantic @waiting-fortheupdate @strawberymilktea @ninihrtss @kenqki @winter-solstice24 @darlingcharling-blog @feyresqueen @momoewn @literishdegree99 @xxxkat3xxx @6000-fandoms

[kingofbodyrolls]

Friendcation (m) | myg | baby special

Yoongi spends time with your daughter 💜

→ Pairing: mechanic!Yoongi x reader (female) → AUs: roadtrip!au, non idol!au, established relationship, mechanic!Yoongi, dad!Yoongi, married!au → Genres: slice of life, humor/crack and so much fucking fluff → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 3.5k → Warnings (explicit): this is just pure fluff, so nothing smutty in this one! But there’s mention of pussy, if that is a warning? I swear, it’s just funny, sweet and lovely 🥹 it's written completely in Yoongi's pov, just because... you'll see 💜 → Author’s note(1): the last extra for friendcation that I’ve planned 🥳 I don’t think I’ll write more for this series/couple so please consider this officially completed (but you never know, lol). But I really don’t know what more I could add to this. I hope you enjoy this one too! 💜 And thank you all so fucking much; thank you for reading, commenting, reviewing, reblogging—everything means so much to me, you truly don’t know. Knowing what you think, and that you like reading my stories matters a lot to me, and essentially that is what keeps me going (especially when I’m struggling). So thank you 🫂 → Read on AO3? [link] ✨

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The gentle patter of tiny feet echoes through his dreams, a soft cadence pulling him from the depths of sleep. Not fully awake, yet not entirely asleep, he hovers on the fragile edge of consciousness. The sound of those footsteps—familiar, beloved—grows louder, closer, until a tender warmth touches his cheek.

“Daddy! Daddy! Wakey, wakey!” Mee-Yon’s voice bursts with joy, her excitement bubbling over as she bounces on the balls of her feet, her laughter a melody that could rouse the sun itself. 

He groans, stretching the stiffness from his body as the couch protests beneath him. Slowly, he opens his eyes, and there she is—his daughter, beaming down at him with a grin so pure it melts away any lingering weariness. How could he be upset when faced with such a sight? That tiny, radiant face is too full of life, too full of love.

“Hm?” he groans again, as Mee-Yon’s tiny fingers press against his cheeks, her eyes wide and insistent, sparkling with the boundless energy only a three-year-old could possess. She bounces still, a little ball of endless enthusiasm, and he marvels at how so much vigor can be contained in such a small body.

��Uncle Minnie is here,” she announces, her voice dropping just slightly, though no less vibrant, as if she’s sharing a grand secret. Her eyes shine with excitement, practically glittering—no, bursting with rainbows, if only this were a cartoon. And in this moment, he thinks, maybe he’s been watching too many cartoons lately, breathing in too much of that magic.

“He is?” he murmurs, running a hand through his dark hair, now cropped shorter than usual—a change he knows you’ll notice. He remembers how you prefer it longer, but for now, this is how it is.

“Mhm,” Mee-Yon confirms with a dramatic little stance, hands on her hips. That flair for the dramatic—definitely not something she got from him. Him, dramatic? Never.

He chuckles, gently patting her head, his fingers tracing through her soft hair that hasn’t yet been tamed into the neat bun she usually wears. Should he tie it up? He hesitates, knowing she’ll just pull it out moments after he’s finished.

Looking up, he sees Jimin standing in the doorway, a soft smile on his face as he watches Mee-Yon with an adoration so profound it almost makes the room glow. Jimin, the ever-dedicated godfather, has taken his role to heart, showering her with a love so abundant it spills over, warming the whole house. He spoils her endlessly, and though he’d never admit it, he’s grateful for it. It’s nice. It’s more than nice. It’s love, in its purest form.

“MINNIE!” Mee-Yon cries out, spinning on her heel to race toward Jimin, arms flung wide. He scoops her up effortlessly, lifting her high into the air, the room filling with the sound of her gleeful giggles and his playful airplane noises. As his arms tire, he lowers her gently to the ground, and she wraps herself around his legs, claiming him with a possessive “Mine.”

Jimin grins, glancing over at him. “I see she’s as possessive as you,” he teases, and Yoongi responds with a playful scoff, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation. But deep down, his heart swells, knowing these moments—these precious, fleeting moments—are what make everything worthwhile.

He rises from the couch, stretching the remnants of sleep from his limbs, and finally, the sweet, intoxicating aroma of dinner weaves its way to him, causing his stomach to rumble in anticipation. The scent is warm, rich, filled with love, and it beckons him forward like a siren’s call.

As he moves past Mee-Yon and Jimin, their laughter like a soft melody in the background, he follows the trail of that delicious fragrance into the kitchen. There you are, immersed in the ritual of cooking, your focus entirely on the simmering pans before you. You’re making dinner—far more than necessary, as always, though tonight it’s just you, Yoongi, Jimin, and little Mee-Yon. But since becoming a mother, you’ve taken to preparing meals that last for days, an act of foresight that saves time and allows for more precious moments together. He loves this about you, this quiet efficiency that carves out more space for family, more time to bask in the warmth of togetherness.

You haven’t noticed him yet, lost in the rhythm of your work, the soft sizzle of the stove and the gentle clatter of utensils. He knows better than to startle you, aware of the way you lose yourself in the dance of cooking. So he deliberately makes his steps audible, the floor creaking underfoot as he approaches. “Smells nice,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble as he slides his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Yoon,” you sigh, your voice dripping with affection as you lean into him, and he presses a tender kiss to the curve of your ear. He can feel you melt under his touch, the way your body instinctively relaxes into his, a soft giggle escaping your lips—music to his ears. He lives for these sounds, the small, intimate noises you make, even the ones in your sleep that pull him from his dreams but awaken something else within him, something that fills him with love and desire.

His fingers trace gentle patterns on your skin, lifting the edge of your blouse to feel the warmth of you beneath his hands. His calloused fingers draw circles, savoring the softness of your flesh. You moan softly, your body swaying slightly as if moved by an invisible melody, a song only the two of you can hear. His hands drift lower, brushing your hip, pausing as if savoring the moment.

“Dinner! Dinner!” Mee-Yon’s excited shout rings out behind you, shattering the tender moment with her boundless energy. He can’t help but chuckle as he turns to see her cradled in Jimin’s arms, her little face glowing with joy.

“You know she can walk, right?” he teases, grinning at the pair of them.

“Yeah, but this is more fun,” Jimin replies, bouncing her gently, drawing out another round of her infectious laughter.

“You’re spoiling her too much,” you chide playfully, turning off the stove and casting Jimin a mock death stare, your eyes twinkling with mischief.

“I have to stay her favorite uncle,” Jimin retorts with a carefree shrug, his smile widening as he carries Mee-Yon over to the table, already set and waiting. Mee-Yon giggles, sticking her tongue out at you, and in that moment, the room is filled with warmth—a perfect snapshot of love, laughter, and family.

Yoongi can’t help but smile, knowing that none of your other friends stand a chance at becoming Mee-Yon’s favorite—not with the way Jimin spoils her, showering her with endless affection. There’s something special between them, an unspoken bond that binds them closer than the rest. Mee-Yon seems to naturally gravitate toward Jimin, drawn to his playful spirit and gentle heart.

Of course, she enjoys the company of the others too. She adores playing with Seokjin’s kids and his wife, their home a haven of laughter and warmth. Jungkook, with his eternal boyishness, is always ready to dive into whatever adventure Mee-Yon dreams up, his energy a perfect match for her wild imagination. She lights up when Namjoon reads her stories, his deep voice weaving tales that captivate her young mind. Once, when Namjoon’s girlfriend was over, her belly round with the promise of new life, Mee-Yon innocently asked how babies were made. Yoongi was relieved not to be on the receiving end of that question, watching with a mix of amusement and sympathy as Namjoon fumbled for the right words—balancing truth with tact.

Then there’s Taehyung, who spoils her with gifts from his travels as a photographer, bringing the world to her in the form of exotic trinkets and stories that transport her to far-off lands. Each friend brings something unique into Mee-Yon’s life, and while they all have their place in her heart, it’s Jimin who holds the brightest spot.

“Dinner’s ready,” you call out, wiping the sheen of sweat from your brow, a testament to the steam rising from the pots on the stove. The meal is a labor of love, and as you all gather around the table, it’s no surprise that Mee-Yon instinctively takes her place next to Jimin.

The first bite is met with murmurs of approval. “It’s so good,” Jimin exclaims, and Yoongi nods in agreement, his eyes catching the soft blush that spreads across your cheeks. He knows how you are with compliments, especially about cooking—something you usually leave to him. But tonight, you’ve outdone yourself, and it’s clear that your efforts have not gone unnoticed.

Then, out of nowhere, Mee-Yon’s small voice cuts through the comfortable silence like a bolt of lightning. “Vagina!” she shouts, slamming her tiny hands on the table for emphasis. “Vagina!” 

All eyes snap to her in stunned disbelief, the room frozen in a moment that feels suspended in time. Yoongi isn’t sure if he heard his daughter correctly, but as she repeats the word with gleeful abandon, there’s no mistaking it. Your gaze darts frantically between Jimin and Yoongi, as if deciding who to unleash your wrath upon. Fortunately, Jimin ends up as the target.

“What the fuck did you teach my daughter?” you demand, your voice trembling with incredulity and a hint of anger. Yoongi, relieved not to be in the line of fire, watches as Jimin blinks back at you, utterly bewildered.

“What?” Jimin stammers, shaking his head in denial. “I didn’t teach her that! She must have picked it up at daycare,” he says, his tone calm but defensive, trying to deflect the blame.

Yoongi, ever the realist, can’t help but let a remark slip, one that’s more truth than tact. “Just be glad she didn’t say pussy.”

You sigh, a mix of exasperation and reluctant acceptance, realizing that he has a point. Better to let it go, not to give Mee-Yon’s newfound vocabulary too much attention. After all, the more focus you put on it, the more she’ll repeat it, and there’s no need to make a spectacle out of a word that, to her, is just another part of the world she’s discovering.

“Pussy! Pussy! Pussy!” Mee-Yon’s voice rings out with glee, her innocent delight filling the room as she proudly chants the forbidden word. Your stern gaze snaps to Yoongi, and in that instant, he knows he’s made fucked up. The realization hits him like a wave, and the weight of it is evident in his sheepish expression. “You taught her to say pussy. Why would you do that, Yoon?” you groan, frustration lacing your voice, a trace of self-doubt creeping in as you wonder if this makes you a bad mother. But Yoongi knows better—shit happens, and he reckons this isn’t the worst thing she could have picked up. After all, with the amount of time she spends with Jimin and Jungkook, he’s surprised this is the first explicit word to slip out.

“Peeing from my pussy!” she sing-songs with abandon, and you all groan in unison, only for the tension to break as laughter bubbles up, impossible to hold back. It’s bad, he knows it, but it’s also undeniably funny and, in a way, just a little bit cute. 

Mee-Yon soon loses interest in the word, her attention drifting as she begins to babble a stream of playful nonsense, her laughter joining yours in a chorus that fills the house with warmth. As the evening settles into a comfortable rhythm, Yoongi helps clean up while Jimin entertains Mee-Yon in the living room, the sound of their laughter echoing through the walls. He silently hopes Jimin isn’t teaching her any new vocabulary, knowing full well that the daycare likely isn’t to blame for this latest outburst.

Later, Jimin takes on the task of putting Mee-Yon to bed—a routine she seems to prefer whenever he’s around. Neither you nor Yoongi mind, as it offers you a rare moment of peace, a chance to sit together in quiet companionship while Jimin’s gentle voice carries through the door, reading her a bedtime story. When he emerges, his face softened by a tender smile, he bids you both goodnight and slips away into the night. It’s late, and Yoongi can’t help but curse the fatigue that overtook him earlier, leaving him to doze off on the couch. 

He’s been working more than usual lately, picking up the slack as you scale back your hours, determined to keep your finances steady. He doesn’t mind, knowing this is just a season of life, a phase that will pass. There may come a time when you’ll work more hours again, and he can step back. What he truly appreciates is the flexibility you both have in your work—his garage at home, a sanctuary where he can manage his own time, and your ability to work from home, offering you a reprieve from the relentless stress of your marketing job and the demands of your boss.

Tonight, though, you’re both too exhausted to stay up, even though the allure of a new K-drama tugs at your thoughts. Yoongi knows better—you’ll both likely fall asleep on the couch, and while it’s sleep, it’s not the restful kind. Better to retreat to the comfort of your bed, where real rest awaits.

So that’s what you do, slipping into a simple nighttime routine, brushing teeth, and taking care of your skin before crawling under the covers. Yoongi loves these moments, spooning you for the warmth and comfort it brings, not just for the obvious reasons but for the pure joy of being close to you. He nestles into your neck, breathing in your natural, sweet, and earthy scent—a fragrance that grounds him, that makes everything else fade away.

He doesn’t know how much time passes before he’s jolted awake by Mee-Yon’s piercing scream. His heart races, the familiar surge of fear gripping him—always worried that something terrible has happened. But as he listens, he realizes it’s likely another night terror. With swift, practiced movements, he’s out of bed and crossing the short distance to her room, just opposite yours. 

The room is bathed in the soft glow of a unicorn night lamp, casting gentle shadows on the walls. The rest is cloaked in darkness, except for the faint hum of white noise playing in the background, a melody that usually soothes her into sleep and keeps her there through the night. But not tonight. Her screams persist, shrill and heart-wrenching, as he approaches her bed. She’s calling for you, her mother, her small body trembling in the dim light.

“Mom! Mom! Mommy!” Mee-Yon’s cries pierce the quiet night, her voice tinged with distress as her tiny body thrashes beneath the sheets. Her eyes remain tightly shut, yet it’s as if she’s caught in a battle with unseen phantoms, lost in the throes of a bad dream. Yoongi’s heart aches at the sight, a deep, primal need to protect his daughter surging within him. 

“Mee-Yon,” he whispers, his voice soft as a lullaby, “it’s okay, sweetheart.” But his words are like echoes in a canyon, powerless against the storm of her nightmare. She continues to scream, panic tightening her small frame, and Yoongi feels a pang of helplessness. He hates seeing her like this, hates that there’s nothing he can do but wait it out, knowing it’s just a part of her growth, an inevitable phase that will pass. Yet that knowledge doesn’t ease the knot in his chest.

He places a gentle hand on her stomach, feeling the rapid rise and fall of her frantic breaths. “Mee-Yon,” he calls out again, a bit more urgently, but she’s still far away, lost in the dark corners of her dream. Then, suddenly, she stirs, her tiny body moving in fits and starts until she sits up, her eyes still closed, arms reaching skyward as if begging to be held. 

“Mommy,” she whimpers, her voice a broken cry, and Yoongi’s heart twists in response. “It’s Dad,” he says softly, reaching for her, lifting her delicate frame into his arms. “I’m here. It’s okay.” 

“Daddy,” she murmurs, still caught between sleep and waking, her small arms wrapping tightly around his neck. For a moment, Yoongi just stands there, holding her close, unsure of what to do but knowing he can’t leave her alone. He knows the experts say it’s not ideal for her to sleep in their bed, but sometimes, practicality takes a back seat to love and the desperate need for rest. Nothing has ever gone wrong before, but there’s always a flicker of fear that lingers in the back of his mind, the thought that one of them might roll over her in their sleep. Thankfully, that has never happened, and they are super careful.

With gentle care, he carries her into your bedroom, placing her tenderly between the two of you. He tucks the duvet around her, ensuring she’s warm and secure, then arranges her favorite bunny plushie—Jungkook’s sweet gift—beside her. The tension in her small body slowly ebbs away, replaced by the soft, rhythmic sounds of her breathing as she finally begins to relax. Mee-Yon snuggles closer to him, her little form instinctively seeking his warmth, and Yoongi wraps an arm around her, holding her protectively, careful not to press too hard. Her heartbeat, still quick but steadying, pulses against his chest, and with that comforting rhythm, he drifts into sleep.

His dreams are light and whimsical—cotton candy clouds, pink skies, and the sensation of soaring on the back of a white and blue pegasus. But his slumber is interrupted by the sharp prod of a tiny foot to his face. With a groan, he tries to nudge the offending limb away, slowly opening his eyes to find Mee-Yon sprawled across the bed, her feet in his face and her small hands clutching your waist. Despite the rude awakening, Yoongi can’t be mad—how could he be, when his daughter is so undeniably adorable?

You catch his gaze, your hand gently caressing Mee-Yon’s back, and without a word, you communicate a world of emotion. Words aren’t needed between the two of you anymore; the years have woven a deep understanding, a silent language spoken through glances and touches. He reads you like a well-loved book, its spine softened by countless readings, and in your eyes, he sees the depth of your love for him and your daughter, the way you cherish these fleeting moments of family life.

As Mee-Yon stirs awake, she wraps her arms around both of you, pressing soft kisses to your cheeks. Yoongi’s heart swells with joy, savoring this precious moment he wishes could last forever. Life with a three-year-old is a rollercoaster, equal parts delightful and exhausting. Yoongi’s patience, his temper, and his love are tested daily, but he wouldn’t trade this for anything. Mee-Yon has a knack for pushing his limits, as all children do, keeping him on his toes with her boundless energy and curiosity.

But it’s these moments he treasures the most—the time spent together as a family, whether on picnics, trips to the zoo, or simple walks in nature. Teaching Mee-Yon to ride a bike, watching her little legs pedal with determination, fills him with pride. He loves witnessing her growth, her wit, and her ever-present cuteness. There’s never enough time to soak it all in.

On a crisp autumn day, Yoongi finds himself in the garage, working on a customer’s car, with Mee-Yon by his side. She loves being there with him, her curiosity as vast as the sky, her eyes wide with wonder at the sight of tools and car parts. He explains everything to her, pointing out the coils, tubes, and wheels that make the car run. His hands are stained with oil, but Mee-Yon doesn’t mind; she grabs his hand, her own tiny fingers getting smudged as she points at something.

“What’s this, Dad?” she asks, her voice full of earnest curiosity.

He grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “That’s the battery,” he explains, “the heart that keeps the car alive.”

She hums thoughtfully, turning her hand over to inspect the oily smudges. “Dirty,” she declares, but there’s no disgust, only fascination.

“Yeah, that’s oil,” he says, reaching for an old rag to wipe her hands, though it doesn’t do much to clean them. Maybe it’s time for some new rags in the garage.

“Like paint,” she giggles, her fingers now exploring every surface under the hood, leaving tiny handprints on every rube and rusty surface.

Yoongi chuckles, unable to resist her infectious joy. “Daddy?” she calls, looking up at him with a bright, mischievous smile.

He kneels down to her level, ruffling her hair with a fond laugh. She giggles and cups his cheeks with her small, oily hands. “Love you, Daddy. You my best friend.”

He doesn’t care that his face is now smudged with oil; he just pulls her into a warm embrace, holding her close. “I love you too, Mee-Yon,” he murmurs, his heart full to bursting.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for joining me on this wild ride that friendcation has been! And can you believe it’s been over a year since I first published this??? It’s so crazy. I’m so happy that so many people love it, and still read it. Truly, it means the world to me 🫂✨

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller Part 7: Can I Keep You?✨

Dbf! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: This fic is coming to a close, and I’ve loved writing every word of this one 🥹 Thank you to @lotusbxtch for beta reading 🩵 I plan to write an epilogue for this, and I may write some one-shots to throw in if I get the inspiration in the future. Thank you for coming along on this journey with me!

Summary: Christmas with your parents and the Millers was all fine, until they caught you with Joel.

Rating: 18+ only MDNI

Word Count: 6.1k

Chapter Tags: A little angst, arguments, no use y/n, lots of fluff, soft Joel, switching POVs, going to omit some tags due to spoilers

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Christmas Day is here before you know it as the cool air blows against your crimson sweater. It sinks through your denim jeans as you make your way back into the house, back to where Joel and Sarah sit in the living room. A football game is playing over the flat screen, and glistening lights flash against the huge tree that sits in the corner of the room.

 �� Snowflakes tap lightly against the glass as your dad gives your mom the last of her gifts, your eyes flicking over to Joel as he leans into the back of the leather couch, a smile curled against the corner of his mouth as he steals glances your way every few seconds.

   God, his smile gets you every single time, making butterflies flit through your stomach as you take in the brown doe eyes that you can’t seem to keep your eyes off. You just can’t believe he’s yours. Something he reminds you every single day.

   You cling to the fleece blanket Joel gifted you, twisting your fingers against the soft material, bathing in the woodsy scent that sticks to it. And let’s not forget the Metallica concert tickets he got you, winking when your dad asked who you were taking. Joel fucking Miller, that’s who. Your man. Yours.

   He’s wearing the new hunter green flannel you got him, the material clinging against his broad shoulders, biceps hugging the sleeves as you try not to drool in your spot because the man just looks so damn good. 

   You want to sit in his lap, rake your fingers through his greying curls, let his lips brush against yours while his large hands pull you flush to his strong chest, let his woodsy scent completely lather you as you get lost in this plush lips, fingers scraping over his soft scruff. You just want him.

   “Hey, Sarah. Wanna go over to the Silverton’s for a few minutes with Claire and I?” Your dad asks as Sarah bounces off the couch, excited to visit because they always make her favorite chocolate chip cookies. 

   “Heck yeah! Dad, wanna come, too?” she asks as her long hair swishes behind her shoulders, her sparkling eyes finding yours after she calls your name a second later.

   Joel flicks his brown eyes your way and shakes his head. “Nah, you go on, kid. Gonna stay back this time.”

   She looks between the two of you and snickers, knowing exactly why you both had said no. She knows, and she absolutely loves the idea of you and Joel together which makes this whole situation much easier to navigate.

   “Hun, you sure you don’t wanna come?” your dad asks as he pulls his bulky winter jacket on.

   You shake your head. “No, I’m fine. Just gonna sit around the fire and watch some football,” you reply, trying to hide your smile as Joel smirks your way.

   “Football, huh? When did you become such a football fan?” he laughs.

   You shrug your shoulders and smile. “Guess I figured it’s not too bad to watch.”

   Joel shakes his head, chuckling under his breath at the memory of a few nights ago. You were sat on the edge of his bed, his cock stretching your drenched walls wide as he thrusted his hips up and down, your back flush to his broad chest as the glow of the tv played a football game you were paying no attention to, just focusing on how fucking good he felt thrusting his cock deep inside your pussy until he made you come hard and long. 

   “Think she figured out how hard those players play ball,” Joel smirks. You giggle at the memory and throw a fuzzy pillow over at him as he catches it before your parents can see. 

   “Suit yourself. See y’all in a little bit.” He waves as he rushes your mom and Sarah through the door with a present wrapped in glittery blue paper tucked snugly under his arm.

   The second they’re gone, you throw your blanket off and make your way to Joel, collapsing onto the leather couch as he tucks you snuggly into his side. You slide the palm of your hand up the inside of his black shirt, resting your fingers on his warm stomach as you breathe in the smell of his woodsy cologne.

   “Comfy?” he asks, chuckling as he pulls you closer into his broad body.

   “Very,” you smile. He bends his head down and presses a kiss slowly to your forehead, his fingers tracing the ends of your spiral curls as you sigh at the softness that makes Joel just perfect.

   “Figured,” he chuckles.

   You watch the fire crackle with orange sparks in your vision, the Christmas lights shining brightly as the tree glitters with dark green lights twinkling in the corner. It’s quiet in here, a peaceful Christmas evening, and you have Joel all to yourself for the next few minutes. 

   Joel runs his fingers lazily over your back, pushing your hair across your left shoulder as he trails the back of his calloused index finger over your jawline. “I, ummm, got you one more gift,” he says nervously, his free hand raking down his greying scruff.

   You sit up straight and stare at him, spellbound. Another present? “Joel, what more could you possibly give me? I mean, those Metallica tickets must’ve cost you a fortune! And that fancy steak dinner you took me to? You’ve done enough,” you giggle, letting your hand fall down on his denim clad thigh.

   He chuckles and shakes his head. “I know, but jus’ trust me. I think you’re gonna like this one,” he smiles as he digs deep inside the pocket of his dark jeans, pulling a light blue velvet jewelry box out as he displays it in the palm of his hand.

   You open your mouth wide in shock, your index finger grazing the outside of the velvety case as your mind starts ticking like a timebomb. “What is it?” you whisper, not even recognizing the muttering voice that asks the question.

   “Open it and see,” he smiles, his brown doe eyes sparkling with excitement as he hands you the tiny box.

   You slowly grasp it in your palm, taking a deep breath as you carefully open the lid of the box. Your eyes grow wide when you see a silver chain necklace displayed inside, complete with a key that glints under the dim lights of the living room. You pull it out and assess it, running your fingers over the crisp edges, and then when you turn the key around you freeze.

   Right there in the middle of the silver key are the words “Miller’s Girl” carved in fancy cursive, completewith a little heart to the right of the name. You freeze, your heart pounding wildly in your chest as you take in the most perfect gift he’s given you by far. “Joel…” you whisper, eyes glossing over as you think you know what this is.

   He turns you toward him and leans in, a crooked smile pressed against his mouth as he looks at you with longing, syrupy eyes that make you want to just melt into a puddle on the floor. “I know you’ve been havin’ a hard time pickin’ an apartment out of all the ones we’ve looked at, but I want you to forget that. Forget every single one we’ve ever viewed, forget the paperwork, forget the costs, forget it all,” he murmurs quickly. 

   You drop the jewelry box on the floor without a thought in your mind, one hand latched onto the silver necklace, the other laced through his fingers, holding on to every single word he’s telling you.

   “You don’t belong in any of them. You jus’ belong in my bed, in my house, with me,” he states, honey-glazed eyes locking with yours as heat builds in your chest.

   “Joel…” you whisper, losing your breath as you pull yourself back together. “Are you asking me to…?”

   “Yes,” he sighs, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear tenderly. “I’m askin’ you to move in with me because I jus’ can’t stand that thought of not havin’ you in my arms every single night now, sweetheart. Wanna take this a step further, if that’s what you want, too,” he smiles as he brushes the tip of his thumb over your lower lip. “Wanna see what it’s like wakin’ up to your gorgeous face in the mornings, wanna know what it’s like havin’ you in my space permanently. Move in with me.”

   Your eyes glaze over with pure admiration and love for every single word Joel just spilled from his lips. You think it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

   You throw your arms around his neck and wrap him tight in your embrace as his arms tangle around your back. “Yes, a million times yes!” you shriek, planting your lips on his as he pulls you down against his lap. 

   When he pulls away, he spins you around, instructing you to hold your hair up as he carefully latches the necklace around your neck. When you turn back around and face him, one hand is caressing your cheek softly while the other is curving down your personalized necklace, the literal key to his heart.

   Your thumb traces over the words Miller’s Girl and end on the heart as his hand comes down to clasp around yours. “Miller’s Girl, huh?” you ask with a wide smile splayed all over your mouth.

   “That’s right, sweetheart. Thought I’d get it carved on there to remind you jus’ who you belong to so you never forget,” he smiles, his glistening eyes bright and beautiful as he presses a delicate kiss to the back of your knuckles.

   You giggle and shake your head in amazement, watching the absolute love of your life express just how he feels about you. It’s all so surreal, all so perfect. And you honestly think it couldn’t get much better than this.

   “You really want me to move in?” you whisper as you look into those gentle brown eyes you can’t get enough of.

   “I really do, sweetheart,” he smiles.

   He cups your chin and brings you to his mouth slowly, and then your lips are on his. The kiss is slow, passionate as your fingers curl around his soft flannel, breathing in the woodsy cologne that makes your head dizzy. 

   “Never gonna let you go,” he whispers as his mouth crashes back down on yours while your arms lock around his neck, and he pulls you flush to his chest. 

   You get so wrapped up in the kiss that you don't hear the front door being shoved open, and then your world shifts and stops in the next second.

   “What the hell is this!” your dad shouts across the room. 

 You frantically pull away from Joel and shoot up from the couch, clutching your necklace with wide eyes as you freeze. Oh, shit. 

   Joel pushes himself off the leather couch and holds a hand out. “George, I can explain,” Joel replies softly, but you can see the panic flaring in his dark brown eyes.

   “Can you explain why you have your mouth and your hands all over my daughter?!” he yells angrily as his roar echoes around the vicinity of the house. Sarah looks between you and Joel and wishes she could help; your mom just stands there with her hand on her chest like she can’t believe this is happening. 

   Joel takes a deep breath and sighs. “Jus’ cool it, George. I can explain.”

   Your dad cuts Joel’s voice off and shoves past him, snatching your wrist as he starts to drag you toward the sliding glass door. “Excuse me, I need to talk to my daughter alone. I’ll deal with you next,” he growls as he throws you outside on the patio and slams the door shut, only having it become open again as your mom slips outside. 

   Your blood races in your body, and you can’t stop the sheer panic that’s making your heart beat straight out of your chest. “Wanna tell me why the fuck my best friend was all over you?” he asks sternly with his big hands on his hips.

   “We… we're together!” you stutter out.

   “Together? You mean to tell me you two have been dating behind my back?” His eyes glow almost red, and you fight to hide behind anything to shield yourself from how mad he looks. 

   “Yes! We’ve been dating! Not like we could’ve told you because this is how your reaction would’ve been!” 

   “That don’t give you the right to be sneaking behind my back, little girl. And Joel?! For the love of god, he’s twice your age! You know how bad that looks having my best friend go after my daughter who’s still in college?” he bites out with gnashing teeth.

   “I’m not a child, Dad! I’m twenty-six-years-old,” you pout while you cross your arms over your chest, feeling the bite of frigid wind blast through your sweater. “And I’m not in college. I’m in law school, which is super hard to even get into in the first place. And you know what? I’m making straight A’s! But you wouldn’t get that, would you? Because once again, you’re disregarding my accomplishments and making me feel awful about them.” You feel warm tears splash against your cheeks while your mom just stands there in shock. She wouldn’t dare interrupt when your dad is having a meltdown, but you see it in her glossy eyes that she doesn’t agree with him. Maybe she’s on your side after all. 

   “I’m not overlooking your accomplishments,” he scoffs as he shakes his head.

   “Yes, you are! Are you hearing yourself?”

   “Just cool it, kid. Enough. He’s forty-five, twice your age. What the fuck were you thinking? Did he manipulate you into this or did he just decide it was okay to screw around with my daughter?” he asks with an angry tick of his jaw.

   “No, it wasn’t like that at all! Joel is a nice guy, Dad. He would never hurt me. He cares about me, just like I care about him. And I really really like him, Dad.” You catch your breath and loosen the tight grip on your necklace as it falls against your chest. That was clearly a mistake because now he sees the glint of the key, and his eyes grow furious. 

   “What the fuck is this?” he asks angrily as he snatches it and yanks it off your neck. You reach for it, but he swipes it away as he inspects the silver key. “Miller’s girl. The hell does he think he’s doing? Is that a key to his place? Is that why you’ve taken so long to find an apartment because you were planning all along to move in with him?!” His voice is so splattered in anger that you barely recognize the man that stands in front of you, even your mom looks taken aback with wide eyes. 

   “No, Dad! God, just stop! If you can’t talk to me like a normal adult, then just stop. Me and Joel are together whether you like it or not. And that’s not going to stop either of our feelings.”

   “Feelings, huh? That what this is?” He scoffs, scowling down at the necklace as his thumb pierces into the metal. “You clearly don’t know anything, hun. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

   “But Dad, I love him!” you whine, biting your lip to keep fresh tears from slipping down your cheeks.

   “Love?!” he ridicules, spitting out the word like it’s poison on his tongue. “You don’t know anything about love or Joel,” he mutters. 

   “No? I think I know a hell of a lot more about Joel than you do. If you really took a good look at the picture, you’d see how clearly in love me and Joel are with each other. And this is why we decided to not tell you because you just wouldn’t understand. This is why I can’t tell you anything! Because you just throw it back in my face and never support my decisions. God, just for once don’t try to fight me on the one thing I want!” You blow out a deep breath and fist your tight knuckles at your sides.

   “He’s not a good fit for you,” he mumbles under his breath while his fingers tap mindlessly against your necklace.

   “No? Do you know who took me to Galveston when you canceled last minute? Joel did! And who took me around to look at multiple apartments, who spent hours trying to help me find exactly what I wanted? Joel! And you know who is always there for me, who helps me study for tests in my law classes, who is there for me no matter what time of day it is? Joel, Joel, Joel! That’s who! Not you, the man who’s supposed to always be there for me but can’t be. So forgive me for falling in love with someone that could give me everything I needed when I was never given those things in the first place!”

   He looks at you with his jaw ticked, his eyes red from the anger that boils inside him. And maybe you see a tad bit of sorrow and regret in his lost eyes, but he doesn’t even apologize. He just clutches the silver necklace tighter and forms his mouth in a tight line. “Hun, just let me explain,” he tries.

   “Explain?” You laugh and wipe a tear from your lash line. 

   “Yes! Look, I know I haven’t always been there for you with work and everything. But hun, Joel is not the answer to…”

   You turn sharply and cut him off, looking to your mom who just stands in the corner meekly by the sliding door with her eyes wide and mouth locked shut. “Mom, please! Back me up here?”

   “George, just listen to her. Will you? You’re not hearing her,” she tries with an even breath.

   “I’ve heard enough!” he barks as he turns back to you with a deep scowl on his face, obviously still very unhappy with you. But when was he ever happy with you in the first place? Almost never. 

   “Yeah, I’m sure you have. Because you never listen. Thanks for letting me down once again, Dad.” You brush past him without stopping for the necklace, letting the tears burn hot in your eyes as the world slowly caves in on you. You don’t even look at your mom as you rush past her, just needing to be anywhere that they’re not so you can breathe.

   Breathe. Remember how to breathe.

   You sniffle and rub at your blurry eyes, and then you find Joel standing in the middle of the living room with the saddest brown eyes he’s ever given you. This just makes you cry more.

   “Baby, you alright?” he asks with a shaky breath, reaching out an open hand for you as if he can take all the pain away.

   “No.” You push away from his advances and knock your shoulder against his, tugging away until you’re practically sprinting for the door. You don’t stop for Sarah who’s standing in the kitchen, don’t stop for Joel calling your name in that broken tone of his, all you do is rush for fresh air where you’re alone, where you can think. But you don’t really want to be alone, do you? You just want Joel. But your dad has completely ruined that. He ruined everything. 

   Joel feels the icy sting as your shoulder brushes past him; he sees the tears cloud your beautiful eyes as they cascade down your flawless face. He knows he’s fucked, knows your father will hate him now, but all he wants to do is pull you into his strong arms so he can hold you and tell you everything will be alright, that the two of you will be just fine. Because he’s not letting you go. No. He’ll never let you go. Not even if your father hates his guts now.

   Just when he starts to turn and go to you, he feels a looming presence behind him that feels a lot like a rush of cold ice freezing him out. 

   “Joel, a word.” George’s deep voice fills the room, and Joel nods and walks with his head down low like he’s a puppy being scolded for making a mess on the kitchen floor.

   The air feels frigid, and he digs his large hands nervously into the pocket of his jeans while he stands on the back porch and looks over to see George practically tearing him to shreds with just his predatory eyes across the way.

   “How long?” His voice is clipped, and Joel shivers at the sound of that icy tone.

   “George, I…”

   “How. Long.” 

   “Almost seven months…” he says quietly with his head down low.

   “Jesus Christ, Joel.”

   He holds up a palm and tries to explain, but his shaky breath doesn’t do him any favors. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

   “Didn’t what? That’s my daughter, Joel!” His eyes glow violent against the hue of the orange sunset that’s painted in the sky, murky clouds trying to fog over the brightness like the depths of his dark soul right now.

   “I know! You don’t think I didn’t think of that before I started this whole thing?” Joel’s jaw ticks, and his thick fingers form into tight fists as he tries to stay in control. 

   “I don’t know, Joel. You tell me.” George narrows his eyes and crosses his arms as he waits for an explanation.

   “It’s not like I planned to fall for your daughter, it just happened.”

   “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me!” George slams his hand against the closed grill, and Joel sees the glimmer of your silver necklace that sits locked in his unforgiving fist. The one with the key to his heart he so casually gave you earlier. Joel’s eyes glisten with frustrated tears, but he doesn’t let a single one fall. He’s stronger than that.

   “Because this is why I didn’t, why we didn’t! Because we knew you’d be pissed.” His rugged voice comes out clipped because he’s tired, so very tired of hiding his feelings. No more, he’ll lay it out thick if he has to.

   “You’re damn right I’m pissed! You’ve been secretly dating my twenty-six-year-old daughter without me knowing and have been sneaking around this whole time. Hell, did anyone else know?”

   “Sarah knew,” Joel says quietly as he takes a step back.

   “Oh, so you tell her but not me?” George looks positively pissed, to say the least.

   “I didn’t tell her, she figured it out herself. Saw us on a date, and I couldn’t cover that up. So yes, she knows. And Tommy knows, too.”

   “Even better,” George chuckles. “And this? What do you have to say about this?” He clutches the silver key in his palm and stares angrily at Joel while his mouth ticks up in a deep scowl. 

   “That’s… I asked her to move in with me.” There’s no getting around this, so he might as well come clean. But every bone in his body tells him to grab the necklace and run out the door. He needs to make sure you’re okay. That’s the only thing that matters now.

   “Move in with you! Why would you…”

   “Because I love her…” His voice is soft, quiet, like he’s afraid he’ll disturb anyone that hears. 

   “I don’t wanna hear—”

   “George, let him talk. I want to hear this,” Claire turns and nods to him. “Go on, Joel.” Joel hesitates but gives her a tight-lipped smile and says thank you with his softening eyes.

   George pinches the bridge of his nose while he waits, and Joel takes a deep breath before he speaks, letting his nerves settle before he spills it all. “She’s been so stressed tryin’ to find the perfect apartment, and nothing right was workin’. And I jus’… I’d rather her move in with me. ‘Cause I want her there, and I’d look after her and take care of her, and…”

   George grunts and clenches the silver key harder, but Claire just gives him a stern look and tells Joel to continue. “Go on,” she encourages with a small smile. 

   Joel takes a breath and starts again. “Look, George, I never meant to fall for your daughter, but I did. And you know what? It was the best decision of my life. She’s so… she’s so kind and smart as hell. And she jus’ is the brightest ray of sunshine and lights up my entire life. And she’s so beautiful, the most beautiful woman in the world.”

   Claire tears up a little in the corner, and Joel picks absentmindedly at the fringe on his flannel. He can’t help but grin as he thinks of your beautiful smile, the way you make him feel as if no one else in the world exists when you’re with him. You’re like the golden sunset that stays up just long enough to wrap him in pure warmth and sunlight, the one thing that keeps his heart pumping through his veins. You’re it for him, he thinks you always have been. He just didn’t know it till this year.

   “I never thought this would happen, but it did. And I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Even if it meant ruining our friendship and you never forgiving me. I can’t give her up, George. I won’t. She makes me so fuckin’ happy, and I’d die before there was a day I ever hurt her. Losing her isn’t a choice for me because I love her, will continue to love her for as long as I live.”

   “Joel…” Claire smiles with a gleam in her clear eyes. “You really love her?”

   “Mmm. I really do. I’d do jus’ about anything for that girl. She’s so precious to me. So forgive me if I’ve spent the last almost seven months givin’ her everything I possibly could. She has my heart and always will.”

   Claire shifts and wipes a stray tear from her eyes, giving him a warm smile that says she’s so happy her daughter has him. And that takes some relief off his burdened back. Now it’s just George he has to worry about.

   George stares and stares at the silver necklace with knit eyebrows, contorting his features into something Joel can’t make out what it means. There’s a beat of hesitance before George looks up and stares directly into Joel’s eyes, like he’s hearing him clearly for the first time. “You really love my little girl, don’t you…” His eyes clear up, no more hatred or scowling or anything remotely hostile. They’re just awestruck.

   “With all my heart,” Joel mutters through the chill of the evening. 

   The cold breeze slips through Joel’s tousled curls, running straight down his spine while he waits to see what will happen next. Waiting to see if his best friend will toss him overboard for the sharks to tear him to shreds, or waiting for the acceptance that it’s okay to date his daughter.

   It’s like the world stops spinning, the only noise is the bated breath he’s holding while he watches his best friend flip the gifted necklace back and forth repeatedly in his palm. The silence is torture.

   Finally, George looks back up and sighs before licking his bottom lip and muttering. “Here, take it.” He holds the necklace by the clasp and jangles it in front of him, edging on Joel to take it.

   Joel stares at the gleaming key, reading Miller’s Girl in silver letters, the one that belongs to his girl. And when he hesitates, George shoves out his arm again, letting the necklace toss and turn in his grasp. “Take it,” he repeats, a little softer this time. 

   He walks forward, scuffing his shiny boots against the pavement and stops in front of his best friend, till the key is safely back in Joel’s grasp. He looks up slowly and sees George’s eyes almost tear up, but they still hold some faint hesitation in those uncertain irises.

   “Look, it’s gonna take me a while to be okay with this. You’re gonna have to give me a little space to process this, but I… I give you permission to date her because… because I trust you more than any of those other clowns she’s dated. And you lookout for her, especially when I’m not around, and you obviously care a lot. And sounds like you love her a lot. So… if this ever leads to more than just moving in together and dating then… just ask me next time, but I think I’ll be okay with it.”

   Joel’s eyes go wide at the words, and before he knows it he has his arms wrapped tightly around his best friend’s back in pure shock. George pounds a strong hand on Joel’s back and mumbles under his breath that that’s enough. Claire gives him a gentle smile and watches the two friends make up in peace.

   “Thank you, George. For trustin’ me with your daughter.”

   George shoos him away and grits his teeth together into a pressed smile. “Yeah, yeah. Jus’ go talk to your girl, Joel. Let the old man have some space for a few minutes. I need a drink,” he sighs as he heads back inside for a cold beer in the fridge.

   Joel nods to Claire and then makes a beeline for the front door, knowing you're sitting out there in the cold with tears streaming down your beautiful face. He has to fix it.

   The sunset slowly slipping under the grey clouds doesn’t help your mood as another tear escapes down your cheek, falling to the ground with a splash as you hug your knees tighter to your chest while you lean against the front porch railing. You always knew your father wouldn’t approve, and now he’s ruined your most favorite thing in this world.

   You almost miss the large figure that stands behind you until he’s kneeling down and wrapping his arms tightly around you like a warm blanket that drapes over your skin. His usual coffee scent and strong cologne showers you in a still calmness that only he brings you, and suddenly you feel like you’re home. 

   “Joel,” you sniffle into his warm chest, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck while his big hands run up and down your back in soothing motions.

   “‘S’alright, sweetheart. You’re okay now. I’ve got you.” His gentle tone surrounds you in a cloud of comfort, and you suddenly feel warm and light for the first time since your parents saw the two of you kiss.

   “But they… my dad…” You can’t even speak clearly. Your words are all warped and clipped each time you think of how angry your dad was, how violently he ripped into your heart when all you were trying to do was tell him how much Joel meant to you. It was a disaster that was waiting to happen, and you let it.

   “Hey, look at me.” He tips your chin up and brushes the next tear away that clashes against your eyelashes. “Everything’s okay now. We’re okay.”

   You look at him with confusion swirling in your irises as your fingers clasps around his fuzzy flannel you love to wear so much. “We’re okay?” you whisper out in a daze.

   “Mhm,” he nods as a warm smile slips over his plush mouth. He digs into the pocket of his jeans and grasps the silver chain in his palm. Your necklace. 

   “Think this belongs to you.” Joel opens his palm and reveals the silver key that has your name written all over it. The key that promises for a future together, your future. A life with him in it, a step before a lifetime together.

   “Joel… he gave it back?” You gawk as your finger brushes against the metal, clasping your hand over his so you can feel the promise of forever in the warmth of his calloused palm.

   “Mhm. It belongs to you.” He pushes it into your open palm and closes your fingers over the cold silver, letting his hand linger over yours as his warm breath invades your space.

   You take a moment to register what this means, what this might promise. Did this mean your dad… Your eyes flick to his with agility, and your lips part as you exhale a long breath. “Does this mean... Did my dad…”

   A smile curls against his mouth and he nods. “‘S’alright now. After I talked to him, after I explained myself, he listened. He’s okay with us, darlin’. Well, as good as he’ll be right now. Might take some time to mend our friendship back to how it was, but s’okay. We’re gonna be jus’ fine. And you and me? We’re gonna be more than fine.”

   You throw your arms around Joel’s neck and sink your lips against his, letting his cinnamon taste melt into your mouth until you can taste nothing but him. He pulls you against his broad chest and strokes his calloused fingers against the back of your neck, tugging until you’re flush to him so he can ravish and serenade your mouth with the taste and feel of his warm, lush tongue. 

   It only takes minutes of heated passion until he pulls his lips from yours and rests his forehead against yours. You’re both out of breath, but you guess that’s how the two of you always are. Always giving your entire being to each other until the other is completely satisfied. But it’s not about that this time, it’s about finally being able to express your love for each other out in public. No more hiding from your parents, your friends, no one. It’s you and Joel against the world now, and there’s not anything you can’t conquer now.

   He moves your hair across one shoulder and clasps the necklace around your neck, leaving it right where it belongs now. Yours. 

   “There,” he smiles as he glides his fingers over the silver key. “Right back where it belongs. Right over your heart.”

   You take a moment to admire the syrupy eyes that flick to yours as you rake your fingers through his silvery scruff, dragging your nails slowly as he groans at the feel of you. “I love when you do that,” he murmurs as his thumb strokes your bottom lip delicately.

   “Well, get used to it because I’m about to be living with you,” you smile.

   “Mmm. I like the sound of that. You in my arms every single night? Wakin’ up to the glow of your stunning smile? Bein’ able to kiss you whenever I want, wherever I want? Yeah, I could get used to this.” His lips drag down your cheek and end on your lips softly, but then they’re gone in a flash as he traces his fingertips over the back of your hand.

   “Slow mornings with freshly brewed coffee, your lips, and me curled up in your lap? Yeah, I could get used to this, too.” Your lips find his once more, and then you’re floating off in a little bubble, to a place only you and Joel know how to get to.

   When his lips untangle from yours, he smiles and gives you those loving sweet eyes you never can seem to get enough of. “I love you, darlin’.”

   “I love you too, Joel.”

   The evening slips by in a rush. Your parents are weirdly mellow about the whole thing, but your dad still sends a couple snarls your way when he sees you and Joel holding hands. But he surprises you when he sends you off with a hug and a kiss on the cheek before you go back to Joel’s house. 

   It doesn’t take him long till Joel and him are doing fishing trips, watching football games together, and going out for beers again. And you kind of love that Joel didn’t have to lose his best friend over you. No. Joel got to keep both of you, and you couldn’t help but tear up when you saw how close they were again just a month after the whole Christmas disaster. You guess some things just fall into place like you and Joel did.

   You never expected to fall in love with your dad’s best friend, but it turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to you. And now? You’re finally free to live your life with your favorite person by your side.

   You don’t know what the next year will bring or the year after, but you know Joel will be there no matter what. 

[theslut4smut]

𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗼𝗳 𝗮𝗿𝘁 | 𝗵𝘄𝗮𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝘆𝘂𝗻𝗷𝗶𝗻

𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗴𝗼𝗿𝘆: fluff & smut

𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: hyunjin uses his wonderful artistic skills to make his sweet y/n realize how beautiful her body is when she becomes ridden with insecurity

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 4.5k

𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲𝘀: afab reader, curvy/heavier/plus sized reader, insecure reader, sub!reader, i don’t even wanna say softdom!hyunjin… he’s just the sweetest and mushiest little gumdrop that is trying to make you smile and cum simultaneously, terms of endearment, lots of “i love you” ’s, some tears, kissing, oral (f receiving), fingering, sweet ol’ missionary 🥹, USES YOU LIKE A CANVAS!!!

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: this was requested!! to the sweet little baby anony that requested this, i hope you don’t mind that i added more of an overall body insecurity. of course i will still mention hyunjin loving that big ol’ booty like you asked, but i felt the story would be too short with just that.

i’m a chubby fat girl myself, so this should be ✨ healing ✨

also!

my second hyunjin story! and it’s another insecurity reassurance one 🥺🤧

_____________________________________

you peek into the somewhat messy room. canvases of different sizes leaned against the walls, used paintbrushes in tubs of water, tubes and buckets of paints scattered along the floor.

hyunjin’s safe space.

the room he’d go to when he felt overwhelmed or stressed, excited, inspired.

you look over to him sitting in his chair in front of a large canvas, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he twists and twirls the brush in between his fingertips.

he was so handsome like this.

you make your way over to him and hold up the bowl of fruit you had prepared for him in his line of sight.

he snaps out of his focused state. “ah.” he says, smiling excitedly before putting the brush down.

he places an orange slice into his mouth, closing his eyes and letting out a hum of approval. “fruit is always so much better when you give it to me.”

you laugh softly. “all i do is cut it.”

“mm, well you’re a great cutter.”

you give him a playful eyeroll before turning to look at the progress of his creation that only had a few strokes near the bottom.

“what is it gonna be?” you ask, tilting your head to the side.

he takes the bowl from your hands and sets it on the desk in front of him. “a surprise for you.”

you look at him with wide and sparkling eyes. “for me?”

“don’t act like i haven’t made you hundreds of them already.” he says, laughing softly as he wiped his brush on a stained cloth.

“i know.” you start, turning back to the painting. “but it makes me feel so special every time.”

he places a hand on your bottom, rubbing his palm on it in circles. “you are special.”

you feel your body stiffen as he continues to touch you. as much as you loved hyunjin’s affection, you had been struggling with insecurity for the past couple of weeks and it was causing you to not want to be felt or even perceived by him.

of course he had respected the lack of intimacy the two of you had shared in recent time, not questioning the excuses you had when you stopped moments that were becoming intense.

it made you feel miserable. not allowing yourself to kiss, caress or savor hyunjin the way you so desperately craved.

hiding yourself behind baggy clothing of either yours or his just to not be seen. eating only enough to survive instead of what was satisfying.

you knew that you didn’t have to hide yourself away like this. being a larger girl was something you were always self conscious about.

and despite those insecurities, hyunjin did nothing but show love and admiration for them.

you were one thousand percent certain that you were loved and that he would never see you the way you see yourself, but it was just too hard to fully accept.

you reach around to his hand that was still playing with your bottom and interlock your fingers with his, pulling it up to kiss his knuckles.

he closes his eyes and smiles at you.

“i’m only allowing you in here because you can’t tell what it is yet.” he says.

you giggle.

he grabs you by the waist and turns you around to look at him.

he pats his thigh as he looks up at you. “c’mere, baby.” he says softly.

“no, it’s okay.” you say, rubbing your lips together as you try to keep your composure.

he shakes his head as he furrows his brows. “you love to sit on my lap while i paint.”

you begin to pick and pull at your fingers as you think of excuses.

“i can’t watch you, it’s a surprise.” you stammer.

he sighs with a laugh as he shakes his head again, grabbing your hand. “i’m just placing the base color today. you won’t be able to tell.”

he begins to pull you into him, puckering his lips to kiss you.

“i-i don’t even wanna see that.” you dig your heels into the groan.

“angel, it’s fine.” he says, using more of his strength to bring you closer.

“hyunjin, please!”

he immediately stops, giving you a concerned look.

“i’m not sitting on you, hyunjin. i cannot sit on you.” you exhale deeply as you place your hair behind your ears and cross your arms over your chest.

he lets go of you, placing both hands on his knees. “you don’t want to or you can’t?”

you close your eyes as you let out a shaky breath. “i… can’t.”

he leans closer, poking his cheek with his tongue. “and why can’t you?”

“i’m… ”

“you’ll hurt me because you’re too heavy?”

you bite the inside of your cheek.

he sighs as he rubs his temples and closes his eyes. “god, y/n.”

he shakes his head as he looks around the room.

“what have i told you? what have i done to ever make you feel like you’re not able to relax and accept yourself?”

“it’s not anything you did, hyunjin.” you say softly.

he stands up and pulls you into him, caressing your hair as you lay against his chest. “i wish you could see yourself the way i do.”

you move your head, your chin pressing into him as you look up into his eyes.

“i think you’re so perfect. inside and out.”

you smile sweetly as he continues.

“everything about you, i adore. your smile, your laugh, your voice, the way you hold me.” he kisses your forehead softly. “i don’t care what you think, your body is gorgeous. desirable. it’s beautiful because it belongs to you. and anything that has to do with you is everything i’ll ever want.”

you close your eyes as you shake your head slightly.

“yes.” he says, holding your face with his hands. “you don’t have to believe me for it to be true.”

“i know you mean it, but it’s been so hard.” your voice cracks slightly.

“baby.” he wraps his arms tighter around you as he places kisses into your hair.

you squeeze onto him desperately, feeling as if you hadn't experienced the sensation of his body on yours in ages.

all of the horrible and intrusive thoughts that had been clouding your mind for the last several days were finally silent as he held you in his embrace.

there was no need to ever feel insecure with a lover like hyunjin, but it was so difficult sometimes. it was clear he meant all of the praises he gave you. whether it be for your looks or what made you you. quirks, traits, habits.

you felt guilty for it not even being that serious. you were confident in who you were. you were never one to make jabs at yourself or feel incompetent. you gave yourself grace for making mistakes and congratulated yourself when you accomplished a task.

it was purely physical. you hated the way you looked.

life would just be so much easier in a smaller body.

and you knew how much that upset hyunjin too. he always talked about how cheap it was to value or prioritize appearance over well being and personality.

looks alter and change as time goes on, and it's such a waste of time to spend the years of your life that are filled with the most freedom and opportunity worried about whether or not people find you attractive.

you knew it wasn't important, but there was also a part of your mind that couldn't accept that it was okay to not stress about what size you were or the number on the scale.

you were always so close, yet so far.

the hardest part had to be the lack of intimacy. you wanted to throw all of your cares away and just let hyunjin have you the way he wanted, but something always held you back.

you missed his touch, the way he smelled, the feeling of the two of you becoming one.

you couldn't bare to go a second longer without him.

"hyunjin." you huff breathlessly as you dig your nails into the grey sweatshirt he was wearing.

he pulls away and looks down into your pleading eyes staring back up at him.

he places your hair behind your ears before pulling you in with his hand placed on the back of your head, ghosting his lips over yours. "can i take care of you, baby? i just want to make you feel better."

you let out a soft whine as you nod slightly.

he grabs your hand and pulls you beside him as he clears the tools and brushes from his desk.

he turns back to you and places his hands on either side of you, causing you to hold your breathe.

he notices, letting out a small sigh. "i can lift you, angel. you don't need to be scared."

you release a shaky breath as you looked down at your feet.

he redirects your gaze back onto him, cocking an eyebrow. "may i please?"

you fold your lips in before exhaling through your nose and nodding.

he smiles happily, lifting you up from the floor. you can feel your heart rate quicken as you watch his toned arms flex. it had been too long without him.

he places you onto the now clear surface, running a hand down your clothed body.

even with the barrier between the two of you, you could feel the jolts of electricity run through you.

you let out a soft moan.

he chuckles softly, pecking your lips. "can i take off a few layers, princess?"

you squeeze your eyes shut tightly as you nod.

"awe." he laughs an empathetic laugh as he caresses the side of your face. "it"s been so long, hasn't it, baby?"

"yes." you whine.

he begins to undress you, maintaining eye contact as he does.

"is this why you've been avoiding our special time?" he asks, rubbing his hand over your soft skin.

you nod as you pout.

"oh, baby." he coos. "i'm so sorry i didn't bring it up. i just assumed you wanted your space."

he stops inches away from your lips. you feel his breath fan against your face. "let me make it up to you."

before you can respond, his lips are on yours.

you sigh into the kiss as he gently pushes you to lay on your back.

the cool surface against your bare skin makes you hiss slightly, but you’re too distracted to pay that much attention to it.

he remains standing as he continues to make out with your soft and lust swollen lips.

“i missed you, my baby.” he says in between the smacking of your two mouths.

you let out a soft whine. “missed you.”

he giggles that cute giggle of his at how worked up you are just over kissing. it's been some time since the two of you had shared a moment like this.

he pulls away to admire you. the way your soft and supple skin glowed under the gentle morning sun that spilled in through the open window. stray pieces of hair that framed your red and pleasure covered face beautifully.

"hyunjin." you say, soft and needy. "i don't want all of the build up right now. i need you so bad."

he laughs through his nose before leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead. "i never want to deprive you, angel. just let me savor and take my time with you the way you deserve."

you let out a whine as you close your eyes and squeeze your thighs shut.

"you're just so... breathtaking." he says.

you keep your eyes shut as he continues on, trying to calm down as you feel yourself become more and more aroused.

"all of the art i’ve seen in my life, whether it be mine or someone else's. it could never, ever compare to you, my love."

"hyunjin-"

"ah." he stops you with a finger against your lips. "i wont argue with you. you cannot change the way i feel."

you can hear him shuffle through something on his desk before he begins to speak again.

"i've tried to encapsulate your beauty so many times before, but it simply cannot be replicated. no one could create your perfection on a canvas."

he's silent for a few moments before you feel cold paint touch the surface of your skin.

you gasp sharply as your eyes snap open.

"shh." he coos, using your chin to pull you in for a kiss. "i can't show how beautiful you are through a painting, so let me try it this way instead."

he leans down to kiss your exposed tummy, causing you to slightly push his head away.

his big brown eyes look up into yours.

“y/n, let me be creative with your body. have you see it the way i do. there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

he uses the pads of his fingers to gently outline the shape of your curves with the light pink shade, his eyes sparkling with love and admiration as he did.

“look at how beautiful this is, my love. the way you were created.”

you glance down yourself. even though it was nothing but simple tracing, he always managed to make things look so good. whether it was a sneaky doodle of you on a coffee shop napkin or a quick sketch of the sunset on the horizon, it was never sloppy.

“i love how full and soft you are, baby.” he starts, moving his fingers up to one of your nipples and swirling the paint, causing you to slightly twitch and sigh. “sensitive, too.”

he gently places his hands on both of your knees before spreading your legs and slightly lifting them to your chest.

you make an uncomfortable noise before turning your head away.

“what is it, my love?”

“i don’t like that.” you say softly with a slight crack in your voice.

“don’t like what?” he leans into you as he places a strand of hair behind your ear, observing your upset expression.

“the way my stomach does that.”

he furrows his brows before pulling away and looking down at your tummy. he places his hand on it before looking back up to you.

“the way it doubles into rolls, i- i hate that.”

“my tummy would do this too if i were in the same position as you.”

“hyunjin, that’s not the same. yours is not nearly as big as mine.”

he blinks at you without saying a word before dipping into more paint, swirling colors near your lower tummy and thighs.

you whine again.

“your skin being able to stretch and move to accommodate your needs is a blessing, angel. not something to feel distain towards.”

he begins to trace tulips and dandelions on your left thigh while gently kneading your right.

you huff and sigh as he does, not being able to handle his close proximity to your most aching part.

“i love the way your tummy folds like that.” he says, looking up from his doodles on your skin, cocking a single brow. “it reminds me of how good and spread i have you for me.”

your chest begins to rise up and down quickly at his words, causing you to grab onto his arm in desperation of some sort of stimulation.

he smirks proudly to himself, knowing the effect he has on you. “and these thighs.” he leans down to gently peck the soft and plush skin, making sure not to smudge the fresh designs. “thick and enticing. the way they force me in between them once you can’t take anymore.”

you gasp as you begin to squirm.

“yeah, pretty girl? you love suffocating me with these when i’m making you shake and cry, don’t you? the way i dig my fingers into them as you press into me harder and harder? completely disregarding my oxygen intake as i devour you. feeling you just let go. twitching and spasming all over my tongue. you love that, huh, my angel?”

“h-hyunjin.”

“shh.” he coos, leaning down and brushing his lips delicately against yours. “you have to stay calm for me, baby. we haven’t even started yet.”

he pulls away from you before resuming his previous actions.

“you just get so excited, huh?“ he begins to trace his fingers closer and closer to your heat, but never to the exact spot you needed him.

you nod quickly, letting out a huff.

“but so patient, too.”

you open your mouth to plead, only to be cut off by the feeling of his breath ghosting over your swollen bud.

he looks up from your slick and eager heat with a deep desire in his eyes, his pupils slightly blown out.

“why don’t you do that thing that i love so much, hmm? just crush me in between them. show me how you’re able to let go for me.”

you gasp as you feel yourself beginning to pulse and contract on nothing.

“can you do that for me, pretty baby?”

“y-yes.” you whine breathlessly.

without another word, his lips connect themselves onto your sensitive clit, causing you to squeal as lapped up the juices you were already starting to secrete.

his fingers quickly find their way inside of you.

you let out a short and quick squeak as he pumps them in and out of you rapidly.

“oh-“ you grab onto his wrist, the sensation already being too much.

“pretty girl.” he says breathlessly against your skin as he continues to split you open on the two digits while simultaneously sucking onto your mound. “taking my fingers so well.”

you clench around him as you begin to feel the knot in your lower tummy form.

god, it’s really been far too long.

he can feel how close you’re becoming as his eyes pierce into yours.

he quickens the pace.

small trickles of your arousal begin to fly and shoot out of you before you’re full on squirting into his large hand.

“that’s it, baby. mix those colors for me.”

your hand quickly covers your face as it burns red, feeling humiliated at just how fast you came undone.

and just as he wished, your thighs slam into either side of his head with a thud, causing a muffled moan of his to vibrate throughout your core.

cries and moans of his name fall past your lips as he helps you through your intense orgasm, rubbing your thigh reassuringly as he did.

your legs twitch and shake as he continues.

a warm and soft kiss from his full and pouty lips grounds you a bit as your climax reaches its end.

you didn’t even realize he was no longer buried face first into your needy cunt.

you let out an exhausted sigh.

he disconnects from the kiss and pulls his dripping fingers out of you before rubbing the mess you made for him all over your body, swirling the lilac and mint green paint from the lower half of you in a beautiful way.

you look up to the ceiling while you regulate your rapid breathing as he begins to open another can of paint.

he whistles a tune to himself as he dips into the pale yellow, allowing you the time to become fully present for him again.

your head feels fuzzy and filled with love as it all sets in for you.

it’s been so long without hyunjin and the pleasure he’s able to bring you.

he was always so patient and delicate with you. like you were his little flower to nurture and protect.

you feel tears already beginning to prickle at your lash line.

he walks over to you with a sweet smile as he continued to stir the fresh paint with his finger.

“you back, baby?” he asks sweetly, his voice filled with tenderness and warmth.

you hum in response, still not being able to form words yet.

he sets the paint down and leans in to peck your forehead.

you grab onto his sweatshirt, letting out a whine.

he chuckles under his breath before softly caressing the outer part of your ear with his thumb. “you want me to take it off?”

“mhm.” you tug at his collar as you try to pull yourself closer to him.

he obliges, pulling the puffy top over his head and leaning back into you.

you take your turn to show hyunjin how you feel through art, dipping into the paint and tracing small hearts along his abdomen.

he smiles at you endearingly as he hums happily, rubbing his knuckles along the sides of your waist and hips.

he re-coats the now dry paint, using his long and slender fingers to stain the surface of your skin, twisting left, right, up and down to make different shapes and patterns.

“this color reminds me of the light you bring into my life. like my eternal sunshine even on the cloudiest of days.”

you bite your lip, once again feeling the overwhelming bubble of emotions trying to fight their way out.

his praise was never anything surface level and simple such as: “you’re beautiful” or “you make me happy.” it was always so much deeper and more passionate.

“when i see you, it’s like there’s no such thing as pain or heartache. nothing could ever phase me with you in my presence.” he says, taking his non-paint covered hand to stroke your cheek softly.

you sniffle a little as you place both hands on either side of his face and pull him in, noses touching.

“you know that, don’t you? how much you mean to me?” he asks.

you bite your lip as you try to suppress an upcoming cry, nodding your head. “yes.”

he places his hands on both of your hips before turning your body to face him as he stood before you.

“don’t ever think you have to deprive yourself from me. i will always be here to reassure you. in any way, my love. with my words, paintings, my tongue, fingers.”

you shiver as he whispers against your neck.

you pull him into a kiss by his hair.

“love you, hyunjin.” you stop to let out a soft and needy moan as he nibbles at your jawline. “i love you so much.”

he lifts his hips up before finally entering you, causing you to throw your head back as you let out a long and high pitched moan, your fingers turning white as you grab onto his torso.

“look at me, baby.” he says softly, pulling your head back up.

he exhales deeply before pressing his forehead onto yours, pounding into you harder and filling the room with the sound of your two bodies becoming one.

“take me, take me, take me.” he says, breathing heavily as he devoured you with his eyes.

“oh- oh my god.” you dig your nails into the flesh of his back desperately, wishing you could be even closer to him than you are right now.

“mhm.” he groans, grabbing onto your face as he kisses you, smearing paint onto your skin.

“you’re so beautiful, angel. so perfect. you were created so divinely and with such grace. i’ll never stop thanking every star that you’re mine. all mine, my baby.”

you begin to flutter and pulse around him, gasping as you arch your back. “hyunjin!” you whine.

“give it to me, baby. you’re so gorgeous when you come undone for me.” his voice becomes more desperate and filled with whimpers as his thrusts begin to falter and lose precision.

the two of you hold onto each others faces as you both unravel onto and into one another, moaning loudly as you reach your peaks together.

“ah! i love you, i love you, i love you.” he says through gritted teeth, fingers bruising your skin as he fucks in and out of you.

you stop fighting back the tears that so desperately want to escape and allow yourself to cry softly as you lay your head against his shoulder, slightly twitching as the waves of pleasure crash over you.

he exhales deeply once he’s finished, lifting your head up to meet his gaze as he smiles at you.

your face is pink and stained with a few blots of mascara, hair slightly untamed. but to hyunjin, it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

“you did such a good job, angel.” he says, caressing your cheek tenderly, wiping your tears with the pad of his thumb.

you smile as you bat your sleepy lashes up at him.

he changes both of your positions, switching the two of you to lay on your sides as you spoon each other.

“thank you.” you say softly to him.

he runs a finger from your forehead, to your nose, over your lips, down to your chin before tilting his head to the side. “you don’t need to thank me, baby. i’ll always be here to help you see the beauty in you that i do. i promise.”

your face turns a light shade of pink as you look down. he lifts it back up, smiling that precious squinty smile of his before kissing your lips soft and delicately.

“let’s just stay like this for a little while.” he says, closing his eyes as he rests his chin on top of your head, pulling you in closer.

“hyunjin, i’m not napping on your art desk.” you say, pushing yourself away from him and giving him a sassy look.

he groans dramatically, throwing his head back. “i had a feeling you wouldn’t.”

you giggle softly as you get up from the desk, looking down at your bottom with a sigh. “ugh, it’s so big, hyunjin.” you say, shaking your head.

“hmm. let me see, baby.” he says, giving you a concentrated and serious expression as you turn around for him.

he doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, causing you to look back at him. “what is the point of- ow!”

you spin around, rubbing the cheek of yours that was stinging with burn of his slap. you feel something wet on your hand, realizing that it was paint.

you gasp. “did you just put paint on my butt?!” you try to hold back your laughter, wanting to seem upset with him.

“that’s what you get for speaking poorly about your body.” he says, wiping his paint covered hand.

you cross your arms and pout up at him, causing him to sigh and pull you in for a hug.

“i’m sorry, baby. i’m just teasing. but i meant what i said.” he says, poking your side slightly. “no more negative comments, alright?”

you sigh. “okay. ow!” you push yourself off of him and smack his chest at yet another swat against your bottom.

“and that one was for me. i just can’t get enough of this thing right here.” he says, squeezing into your butt roughly with his hands.

you shake your head, turning to walk out of the room, hyunjin quickly following behind.

“that handprint on your ass is amazing, angel. i should take a picture of it with my camera.”

“will you shut up?” you snap, scoffing as you fight back a smile.

“or better yet, i’ll use it as inspo for my next piece!”

“shut up!”

[polaris-stuff]

Salutations Polaris!✷*•.

This is the SolarNexus anon from the ship confessions you reblogged the other day. :)

Thank you so much for the support, this means a lot!.. though gotta be honest it still be frightening to reveal myself in this fandom. There be a lot of nippy geese lately to say the least..

Just wanted to personally thank you for welcoming to a safe place. SolarNexus be a comfort ship for tragedy for me and it's great others like to have similar ideas.

As a treat: here's a silly thought for those two tragic nerds since fluff is awesome too!

Nexus being the edgy heart-pulling wannabe that he is, will still automatically pause all his work an' act like a happi school girl whenever Solar suggests a bing-watch evenin together.

What's the show of interest?

*Looks at them watching My Little Pony G4.*

The matching stickers stay for a reason heheheh.

Also I'd like to think Nexus enjoys Nightmare Moon and Discord cameos very much.

He'd get very excited and point at the screen for Solar whenever they pop up.

Screaming "YEAHH!!" whenever one of the characters does a Big Bad.

And Solar chuckles whenever Princess Luna shows up with a teasing "Hey look, Nexus, it's you."

The show: *Luna being guilty and self deprecating from her past actions.*

Nexus: *Dead expression towards Solar.* "Am I a f----ng joke to you?"

Aight that's all. Thanks for reading the short sillies! Wishing you peace, happi friendly sillies, and a pleasant day/evenin friendo! :)

OMG HII ✨🥹💖💖💖 I love your ideas, they are so cute and funny XD

Pls, I want you to know that my blog and my DMs will always be open for you if at any time you wish to write to me 🥹💖 SolarNexus means the world to me, I have no words to express how happy this ship makes me and I love sharing that happiness with everyone who wants to feel it too 💖

HEHE CUTEE💖💖 Nexus all "yes, Solar?" Looking at Solar with puppy eyes and sparkle, happily waiting to find out what Solar wants to tell him or what they are going to do that day. AND IMAGINE, both wrapped in blankets, snuggled while watching MLP in the theater 😭💖 Maybe Jack is with them too, eating chips on the chairs above 🥺💖💖💖

AND THATS SO CANON, Nexus cheering on the villains and getting excited about the fight scenes XD✨ BUT AJDJA SOLAR THATS SO MEAN, "Look, it's you" and points to the most depressed pony in the entire show 😭😭

You too have a nice day/afternoon/night!! And thanks so much for stopping by my ask! I loved all of this! 💖💖💖

[vividwritinglove]

Hello I have a request, if you don’t mind✨🤍 I hope you like my idea🫶🏼

Carlos x reader trying to have a baby, but after some failure, during the summer break with all of his family in Mallorca they got the big news (baby Carlos is comingg). After a year they come back to the summer house, as a parents, dealing with baby Carlos, with his sister and his mother🤍

I’m very curious to see Carlos as a dad🥹🫶🏼

Omg - I had to do this request! Carlos (in my mind) is the sweetest Dad and so supporting during the pregnancy and the labor.

I wanna give a TRIGGER WARNING on this one, not for pregnancy loss, but for not getting pregnant instantly and the frustration and stress it comes with. You’ve been advised. Hope you enjoy anyways.

————————————————————————

"It will work next time, mi vida." murmurs Carlos against your temple and then presses a loving kiss on the same spot. This gesture passes you by. Dejectedly, you look at the negative pregnancy test you are holding in your hands. It is already the fifth practice cycle and it just won't work. The initial anticipation you and Carlos felt when you decided to have a baby six months ago is almost gone. You know that you have to give yourself and your body time. But on the one hand, you also put yourself under endless pressure, which is absolutely not beneficial to become pregnant.

During the first 3 months you were still relaxed. But when Carlo's sister Blanca happily announced that she was already 12 weeks pregnant and Carlo's parents were so excited about their first grandchild, your inner clock started ticking. Up until that point, no one knew that Carlos and you were trying to get pregnant too and you both decided not to tell anyone. The last thing you wanted to do was to squeeze Blanca's joy with your gloom.

You are happy for her, even for Carlos, who will be the world's best uncle to his niece or nephew. You will never forget the sparkle in his eyes when his sister announced the good news. That's how much you wish you could give him the greatest gift on earth yourself. Even though Carlos would never admit it in front of you, he suffered just like you. But he wants to be strong, for you. To catch you and comfort you if the next test is negative again.

The next cycles come and you are again not pregnant. In the meantime it is getting to your psyche. Everyone around you seems to get pregnant easily or you are confronted with babies in any way. You read out about a different diet, tried true remedies for natural conception and even look up for artificial insemination. You withdraw yourself more and more from the public, accompany Carlos less or not at all on his race weekends and generally don't want to go out or see anyone anymore.

Carlos is worried. Really worried. He's never seen you like this before, and he doesn't want to see you like this. After a hard weekend of racing, he comes home to find you in bed in the darkened bedroom, as you've been doing so often lately.

"Mi amor?"

"Hmm..." you grumble in response without turning to him.

He lies down in bed next to you. For a few minutes you lie next to each other in silence, until Carlos finally breaks his silence.

"I needed you..."

"Carlos, I can't."

He quickly sits up and turns you to face him. You're a little startled by his brash manner and look at him expectantly. Tears start to form in his eyes. Your heart breaks, and only now do you realize that you are not the only one suffering.

His breathing is faster, you feel his frustration. He has so much on his mind right now, your relationship, which should not be ruined by this, and then the pressure to deliver good results at Ferrari. And of course the great desire to become a father himself. You hug each other tightly and cry together. Long, certainly over half an hour, but it’s good for both of you. You finally release a lot of the pressure and negativity that has built up in the two of you over the last few months.

After a while you look around the room, "I hate this room!"

Carlos looks at you questioningly. It wasn't that long ago that you two moved into this new apartment in Madrid.

"I want to remodel it!"

"Whatever makes you happy!" agrees Carlos.

The very next day, your new project begins and it takes in all your time. You order paints for the furniture. You buy new lamps, bedding, pillows, decorations and a comfortable armchair. You don't let anyone help you, you want to design everything on your own to just be distracted and productive. After the bedroom, you also get to work on your office and the guest room. It helps you to find yourself again in the few weeks of renovation. Carlos also notices your positive change of mood, which makes him feel happy.

Your sex life revives. It's no longer a must, just passion. Like it used to be. You let the cycle calendar be a calendar and only pursue your desire and lust. Just switching off your heads. The last races before the summer break you accompany Carlos again on the weekends and the races are going increasingly better for him. He got back on the podium and even managed to take his 2nd race win. This was so enormously important for him and brought him back his necessary self-confidence. It is only incidental to mention that you two have multiple uninhibited and passionate sex that night.

Like every summer, you'll be spending your summer break in Mallorca with Carlo's family. You are looking forward to it, as you love Carlo's family more than anything, but at the same time you are very nervous, as Carlo's sister recently gave birth and will of course take her newborn daughter with her. You are excited to meet her, but it will bring you back to the fact that you are still not pregnant.

You are in the kitchen with Carlo's mother, preparing dinner, when the new little family enters the living area. Reyes immediately drops everything to greet her daughter Blanca and granddaughter joyfully and warmly.

By now, Carlo's family knows about the attempts of you to get pregnant. They also noticed your changes and Carlos finally told his mother about it. Everyone is very understanding, however, you did not want the joy of the newest Sainz family member to be squeezed. Blanca looks at you immediately as her mother takes the little one from her. You smile at her and approach her with open arms. She hugs you gratefully and you congratulate her again on her beautiful daughter.

For the time being, cooking was out of the question. Everyone is enchanted by the sweet little babygirl. She is literally passed around, until it was quiet and everyone looked at you. Only and alone the baby was crying.

"Would you like to hold her?" Blanca asks timidly, hoping not to hurt you.

You swallow hard, but then smile slightly, "I'd love to."

As you take the little girl in your arms, she immediately calms down and stops crying. She fixes your big and bright eyes and you get lost in hers too. You put your index finger in her little hand and she immediately squeezes. At this contact all your dams break and tears run down your cheeks. Carlos puts his arm around your shoulder and leans his head against yours. Carlos' mother also sits down next to you and strokes your back. You quickly calm down and hand the baby back to Carlos' sister.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you sad." Blanca apologizes to you as she joins you in the kitchen to help you prepare dinner.

"I have to apologize. I just can't control myself lately and I don't know what's wrong with me." you mumble to yourself as you chop the vegetables, "I'm so emotional and I start crying at everything. On top of that I'm so tired and for the past few days my boobs have been hurting so bad."

"Querida." Blanca holds you by the arm, stopping your cutting motion, "When was the last time you had your period?"

You look up from the cutting board and start calculating in your head. You shake your head and reach for your phone,

"According to the calendar, last week. I didn't came though." you say almost in disbelief and look up at Blanca who is already grinning widely and jumping a little on the spot. After the fallout, you've cursed this app and didn’t used it for several months to track your period properly.

"There should be a pregnancy test upstairs in the bathroom," she says, grabbing your arm and together you sprint off to the upstairs bathroom.

The test is found quickly. Fortunately, the test is still durable and you go through the instructions. Even though you have done countless tests before, you were so nervous that only Blanca's presence could calm you down. She lets you do the test alone and gets Carlos in the meantime. There was no way he was going to miss this moment.

"Mi Amor, what's wrong?" asks Carlos in surprise as he enters the bathroom. Your gaze wanders to the sink and now he also recognizes the test. "It still needs 1 more minute." you say, showing him the timer on your phone.

You both sit down on the edge of the bathtub and Carlos reaches for your hand, "If it's not, then..“

"Then we'll just try it again, without pressure and stress!" you finish your sentence and give him a passionate kiss on the mouth, "We can take care of your niece and practice with her first on how to be parents.“

You both smile into another kiss and are interrupted by your timer. You take a deep breath, squeeze Carlo's hand again, put your phone aside and reach for the pregnancy test. And then there they are, 2 bright lines. Carlos looks back and forth between you and the test. You're in a state of shock. He is confused.

"What does that mean?" he asks excitedly and reaches frantically for the package, "What do 2 lines mean? It usually says pregnant or not pregnant!!!"

You cheer and scream and now Carlos also understands that the test result is positive. You fall happily around each other's necks and Blanca also rushes into the bathroom and hugs you both tightly. The commotion upstairs is not hidden from the rest of the family for long. In the meantime, Carlos' younger sister Ana has also arrived and is more or less greeted with the news. Reyes and Carlos Sr. are falling from all clouds and warmly embrace you and their son.

"I can't believe we're going to spend next summer here with two little grandbabies," Reyes says overjoyed, showering you and Carlos with kisses.

1 year later

It’s the morning you arrive on Mallorca at the vacation home of the Sainz family. This time you travel with more luggage than usual. More than half of it, belongs neither to Carlos nor to you, but to your son Antonio, who is currently taking his nap on top of you.

This bundle of joy saw the light of day 3 months ago and has since turned Carlos and your life upside down in a positive sense. He looks just like his dad, thick dark hair and those dark beady eyes. He is the most beautiful human being you have ever seen and are so thankful to be his mommy.

"Can I get you something to drink, querida?" asks Reyes softly as she approaches your cot, gently stroking your son's mop of hair.

You nod and smile gratefully at her, "Let’s get inside. I'm sure he'll be hungry in a minute."

As softly as you say it, this was Antonio's cue. He wanted his milk, and he'd best have it now. As soon as you enter the kitchen to warm the breast milk in the bottle for you, Carlos jogs toward you and takes Antonio from you, "Let me feed him, mamichula!"

Carlos wants to spend every free minute with his son. Especially during the stressful race weekends, he sees him far too less. It makes you so extremely happy to see him like this with Antonio and you are grateful for the greatest partner at your side and the best father of your child. You hand him the bottle and contentedly your son drinks the milk. You sit down next to Carlos on the sofa and rest your head on his shoulder.

"It's so good to be back," you murmur dreamily, kissing his shoulder.

Before Carlos could answer, he is interrupted by his niece, who will celebrates her first birthday tomorrow. The little girl with the brown curls, climbs up the couch and wants to get on your lap to see her little cousin. You pick her up and immediately her eyes are on your son. She puts a hand on the bottle and together they feed Antonio.

[catindabag]

TBOSAS on Crack short take (11)

*How Strabo Plinth’s conversation with Coryo Snow went*

Strabo: Tell me, Coriolanus, are you more like your father or your mother?

Coryo: Um. . . Weird question, but ok. I’m more like my mother, I guess?

Strabo: And why is that?

Coryo: *starts sweating profusely* We- um- we both love music and arts!

Strabo: Is that all?

Coryo: I- I also love to sing because of my gorgeous father! He used to sing to me these old but sweet lullabies when I was a child-

Strabo: My darling Crassus also used to sing to me all the time!😍

Coryo: What?

Strabo: Nothing. Please continue.

Coryo: Um- Singing and looking pretty are my best talents!😀

Strabo: Oh, that’s a relief to hear. That’s totally great! Brilliant even! Welcome to the family, my future son-in-law!🥰

Coryo: Your what?!😟

Strabo: My gorgeous future son-in-law! You see, Sejanus told me all about you!

Coryo: About me?!

Strabo: How your eyes ✨sparkles✨ like fresh fallen snowflakes. How incredibly smart you are! Top of the class! Best in your year! And all that lovey-dovey stuff couples tend to say nowadays!

Coryo: Sir?! Sir, I think you’ve misunderstood! Your son meant to say that we’re just a couple of besties who kiss and go on dates occasionally-

Strabo: And when you saved him from death, he told me that he’s now a new man with a new dream!

Coryo: A new dream? What dream?!

Strabo: Haven’t you heard the news, my boy?

Coryo: Heard what exactly?

Strabo: Sejanus told me that you told him to become ✨THE FUTURE PRESIDENT OF PANEM✨!🥹

Coryo: President of what?!

Strabo: And you also agreed to marry him!

Coryo: Marry?! I’m too young to marry-

Strabo: And since you’re a Capitol Noble with a respectable name like Snow, it will be easy for Sejanus to enter into politics!😈

Coryo: This must be a fever dream.

Strabo: Not only that, my boy! But it will be easier for my son to become President of Panem once you marry into my family!

Coryo: Into your family? What about my family?!

Strabo: Don’t you worry about that! I called your grandmother and she happily and willingly gave her blessing!☺️

Coryo: Her blessing?!

Strabo: Don’t be too harsh on her, my boy! Your grandmother basically sold you to us Plinths!😈

Coryo: She- she sold me?!😱

Strabo: To Sejanus.

Coryo: Does my cousin even know?!

Strabo: Your cousin is already making your wedding dress.

Coryo: Mr. Plinth, how much money did you pay the Grandma’am?!

Strabo: Surprisingly, she only asked that when you become the ✨First Lady of Panem✨, all the food prices, especially chocolate and honey should be covered by the government!

Coryo: That’s it?!

Strabo: Not quite. She also demanded that all of Panem should mandatorily celebrate The Festival of Roses annually.

Coryo: That’s understandable.

Strabo: And lastly, she told me to ban drunk Dean Highbottom from calling her at midnight to cry about my dearest Crassus Snow.

Coryo: Your dearest Crassus Snow?!

Strabo: My lovely Snow Angel~.😍

Coryo: But Highbottom-

Strabo: Don’t worry about that pesky Highbottom, my boy! I was also banned from doing what he’s currently doing!

Coryo: But what about my cousin?!

Strabo: Tigris just asked me to fund her lifestyle.

Coryo: So she just wanted money?

Strabo: Yeah.

Coryo: But Mr. Plinth! Sir, how about your wife?! How about you?! Don’t you want grandkids?!

Strabo: My dearest Coryo, are you questioning the power of modern science of this era where genetic mutts and advance medicine are basically at our disposal?

Coryo: No. I just thought that you would never approve-

Strabo: Sejanus said that you guys are going to marry and have kids after graduation.

Coryo: What?!😱

Strabo: After that, my son will be busy in politics, while you look after the children!

Coryo: Children?!

Strabo: My gorgeous grandkids!🥰

Coryo: How many grandkids do you even want?!

Strabo: Good question! My wife and I want to spoil at least 24 and more grandchildren! And with your Snow genes, they’ll be drop dead gorgeous like your lovely father!😉

Coryo: 24 kids?! I have to “carry” 24 kids?!😱

Strabo: YES!😈 And hopefully more!

Coryo: More?!

Strabo: You can even start calling me father if you want.

Coryo: Father?!

Strabo: Yes, that’s me!

Coryo: I think- I think I want- I want- *is malfunctioning*🫠

Strabo: And last question before we end.

Coryo: Mr. Plinth, I think I’m going to fain-

Strabo: For our new family name, which one is better, ✨Plinth-Snow✨ or ✨Snow-Plinth✨?

Coryo: *faints from the shock*

[couldawouldashoulda50]

From Completely Different Worlds is such a piece of art, love ❤️ it’s everything from cute to funny to thrilling 🤍 can’t wait for more!

The way William’s just so head over heels for Loren has me all 🫠 I know we all say that he’s so laid back and chill - probably enjoys a good time with a girl here and there, but oh my, the thought of him actually meeting that someone 🥹 it would be the cutest thing in the world!

I can just see his blue eyes sparkling when he looks at her - pure adoration 🤍✨ he wants her, needs her, craves her - and for the first time he’s actually nervous cause he’s got that feeling where he’s afraid of losing her. He knows he won’t, but for the first he’s suddenly got everything to lose; her 🌺

Wish you a wonderful weekend babe 🤍

This coming from you, my dear friend, is like the cherry on top and is the most wonderful compliment. I think that's what all of us Nylanderthals (or otherwise) would want to be, if we ever had the chance, is to be refreshingly different from anyone he's ever met. Yes, he has the chance to meet the most stylish, the most gorgeous, the most affluent...maybe even the super famous. But I would like to think at the end of it all, William wants to connect deeply with someone...and it's not one sided either. What she adores in him, he will equally adore in her.

Loren isn't run of the mill, but she doesn't feel that she's anything extraordinary - that's not what makes her tick. Maybe that's what William is drawn to the most. Loren just strives to be a good person. Treat people with kindness and she reflects how valuable they are. But him showing her what she's been missing - with all of her terrible experiences - Loren will only learn to reciprocate in ways beyond William's wildest imagination. Have an amazing weekend my dearest ❤️

[hypocriticaltypwriter]

✨cutesy self ship asks!!✨

🎀- do you two enjoy dressing up? or would you rather stick with comfier clothes? what are you guy’s favorite outfits?

🎠- what do you do for leisure/entertainment? do you go places, play games together, or simply watch a movie nd cuddle?

🍭- who has the sweet tooth?

💌- how do you communicate while your apart? do you give eachother notes/letters? or do can you text eachother?

MJJJJJ TYSM FOR ALWAYS POPPING INTO MY ASK TO LEAVE ME THE SWEETEST QUESTIONS YOURE THE BEST 🥹🥹

IM USING THIS ONE TO SPILL ABOUT MY GIRL... 💙KANA RENGOKU!!💙

[Giggles and rolls around all giddy in my bed🔥❤️]

🎀- do you two enjoy dressing up? or would you rather stick with comfier clothes? what are you guy’s favorite outfits?

In a sense of getting dressed up, you mean all fancy? Kana absolutely LOVES it. Rengoku, given he rarely gets some downtime with his wife he prefers to stick with any home apparel or his corps uniform, but to turn down a night where he can spoil and dress his little lady in the prettiest fashion to her hearts content? Now, that'd just be cruelty in his book!

No matter what though, he loves how beautiful his wife is, wether she be in her Sunday best for a nightly walk with him, or in the comforts of her nightly or home clothes, she just seems to glow to him. 😭🙏❤️

🎠- what do you do for leisure/entertainment? do you go places, play games together, or simply watch a movie nd cuddle?

A night on the town just can't go wrong for these two! I said it earlier, when Rengoku sees the time to spoil and ravish his wife, he takes the opportunity!

He doesn't get as much time as he'd desire to be with her, and when he gets those rare weekends or one night, he's going to make sure he spends it with her as though it'll be there last. 😉 any sweet treat she seems to like, he'll buy. Any kimono or robe that catches her eye, he'll get her (even with her many protests-) and has her try on every hair clip or accessories just to watch the way her eyes sparkle or she beams looking in the mirror. 😭😭🙏(I NEED HIM)

🍭- who has the sweet tooth?

Rengoku definetly. Especially since he thinks no one in their hometown can out-cook/bake his wife. He RELIGIOUSLY stands by the fact she can make the best mochi on their block (He even has Misturi on his side for that one 🤭)

He fr feels the need to spoil her so bad cause he thinks her very existence being with him is enough to keep him content... And her cooking-

💌- how do you communicate while your apart? do you give eachother notes/letters? or do can you text eachother?

They write to one another!

Rengoku promised her if he is off on travels for no longer than three days, he'd write to her every night about his adventures of the days before, Kana promising the same.They both probably have 5 boxes filled to the brim with how many letters they send. (RIP his crow PFFFT-)

[hotarutranslations]

12th Generation 10th Anniversary!! Hana-chan's First Match At Rakuten Mobile Park Miyagi!!

Evening

Morning Musume '24 Concert Tour Autumn WE CAN DANCE! ~Bla Eld~ Ishida Ayumi FINAL FC Advance Reception

Its started

If you want to come, come! If you want to watch, watch! If you want to meet us, meet us! That's all!

I hope that a lotttt of people can see it

Everyone, win😕😕

September 30th!

Today, Congrats on your 10 year anniversary 12th generation--🩵💜🩷🧡

Cute-----💙

10th anniversary!!! Really, congratulations!!! Its wonderful!!!

We've spent 10 years together since we've met, Really, thank you🪽

For todays 12 generation event, for some reason, I went…🫣🫣 To the rehearsal

Although it was a rehearsal, They said, this is a performance just for Ishida-san! It was cute

They were really sparkling from the rehearsal, it was fun🤍

Akane-chan would respond firmly, when setting up and checking with the staff-san, it looked like, it was 12th generation-like?🤍

With the 3 in 12th generation, I'm their senior and they're my juniors but, We've been companions spending 10 years in the same group

(I've actually been with them longer than Duu and Harunan)

For me as someone older who has decided to graduate, The have a kind of mananimity, when looking at you with a gentle gaze

(Thank you…🫣💙))

The 12th generation, moreover from the perspective of each of the 3, I like how they think about the group

Thank you for welcoming your 10th anniversary

Really, thank you!

Certainly with the 12th generation from now on, I hope you continue to shine beautifully🩵💜🩷🧡

I couldn't sleep at all last night either! I fell asleep when it was fainly getting lighter outside!

Again, thank you for the congrats Really, thank you very much, for your lots of words of support🐣💙

I'm definitely happy to be able to have a concert,

Further, I'm happy to receive your feelings of congrats, From all over the world

I'll write about the MC from the afternoon performances MC! lol

The MC started with talking about, occoupational disease.. but, I added it in as I was like, I have that--

When I find a girl in an idol group with a short boyish cut I think, they've established a nice character✨️…

There is that, right, its this, right, There is a definite number of people that like that after all lol

Also I end up asking people I've never met before, What is your favorite tree?

There is that, right, its this, right, And they're asking as their favorite tree is Suzuran, right …That's not a tree🤣🤣

Also, when apologizing, you'll look someone in the eye, not with a letter…

There is also this, right, Its important, right,

Birthplace is: Hello Pro Egg…

This is the number 1! Occupational disease! Man the the venue was in such an uproar about it as excpected! lol

When I tried to end the MC, The audience was making a comotion

What was it⚠️

It was funny~~~

This MC was not kind to first time viewers…! I realized this a bit,

If you don't know the original story, Please check it out, or ask a friend, I'm sorry😂 lol

Thank you, For 10th generation-chan being a hot topic🤍

Today, with someone who always helps me out with Ara Ara Kashiko-san,

Watanabe Hana-chan, Went to her first match at Rakuten Mobile Park Miyagi..⚾️✨

I heard and came to support her!

Wa------i! I wish I had done the eating pose too!

When it was decided that I'd do the ceremonial pitch, Hana-san told me, it was actually her dream to do a ceremonial pitch,

I had a similar conversation with Hana-san, When I heard she was going to be throwing the first pitch, I was really really happy for her🌸🌸

Her happy expression when she stood on the mound, It was really wonderful!!!!!!

I'm happy I got to witness this wonderful moment🥹🤍

Thanks for your hard work Hana-san~~~

I watched the match until the end I also saw Murabayashi's hit⚾️✨

I hope that tomorrows match will go well

Photobook Signed Copy Lottery Preorder, Goes Until Tonight At 11:59PM🥲✨️

Don't miss it!

see you ayumin <3

[shiftingparadise]

I just read your Feitan x reader with no strings attached arrangement but secretly falling for each other and I loved it! It was sooo good! Can I ask for something similar but with Phinks?

Okay wait... I did NOT expect to crush on Phinks while writing this???? I think I have a new fictional character to obsess over....

Warnings (I'm trying to include this in my posts but I keep forgetting 🥹): well, it's similar to the feitan x reader fic, so it's smut :3

Hope everyone's doing okay and life's treating you well! Enjoy reading 🤍✨

Word Count: 2846

‘Absolutely not’, you protested, ‘I’m not going with Mister Tracksuit over there’. ‘You think I want to go with you?’, Phinks scoffed, ‘I would rather go with that clown over there’. 

‘Magician’, Hisoka corrected the blonde, a smirk on his face. 

‘It’s the same thing, Hisoka! You play with fucking cards and draw shit under your eyes... You sure look like a clown to me’, you were tired of his bullshit. 

His eyes met yours, leaving a shiver down your spine. For a second, you forgot how much he creeped you out. 

‘No fighting between members’, Chrollo’s cold voice filled the old and abandoned room, ‘I think you both misunderstood me… I didn’t ask’. 

Right. It was an order. 

‘Sorry boss’, you lowered your head. ‘Hm, sorry’, Phinks quickly followed your lead. ‘I want you to attend this’, Chrollo held up a poster of some sort of event. ‘A masked ball?’, you frowned, ‘You want me to take that to a masked ball? You’ve seen what he wears, right boss?’. ‘Don’t worry’, Chrollo smirked, ‘I know you’re quite new to the Troupe, but Phinks doesn’t mind wearing a suit’. 

Phinks ignored your childish insult. What did you know about him anyway? 

 ‘What do we need to do, boss?’.  ‘Want you to get these’, Chrollo answered the blonde. 

‘All of them?’, you widened your eyes. ‘All of them’, a sparkle in Chrollo’s eyes. 

You were in awe when you saw the pictures on his phone of all sorts of jewelry. Each one was set with the most beautiful diamonds you’ve ever seen.

‘Can I keep this one, boss?’, you sweetly smiled. ‘Idiot’, Phinks scoffed, ‘How many times does he have to explain that the goods we steal are meant to be sold, not kept'.  

Chrollo’s eyes darted back and forth every time the other scoffed back. He didn’t like pairing you up with Phinks, but both of your abilities were perfect for the job. Phinks’ strength would come in handy if a fight were to break out, and your appearance would fit right into the crowd of arrogant, rich bastards.  

‘So, everything clear?’. Chrollo waited for the two of you to stop bickering. ‘I already got you a dress, Y/N. I expect you to keep those rich scumbags occupied while gathering all the information you can’. 

‘Don’t worry, boss, I’ll flirt my way up the ladder’. 

‘Good’, a content smile on his face before looking at your partner. ‘I want you to keep an eye on her, don’t want any perverts touching her in inappropriate places, and yes’, Chrollo sighed before continuing, ‘I know you can defend yourself Y/N, but I need you to appear innocent and elegant’. 

Chrollo waited for Phinks to agree with his plan, but he noticed the way the vein on his temple had started to throb.

‘Fine’, Phinks replied coldly. 

‘That’s why I need you to pretend you’re her bodyguard’. ‘Excuse me?’, the blonde gritted his teeth together, a forced smile on his face. ‘There won’t be a discussion about this, Phinks. I’ll send you the address of the hotel you’re staying in. Everything you’ll need will be in your room’. 

What was he complaining about? It’s not like you enjoyed playing the helpless and defenseless, innocent girl. 

---

‘Move’, Phinks pushed you aside, ‘Are you really that dumb?’. ‘I’m telling you, the card is broken!’, you raised your voice, ‘The room won’t open, no matter how many times I hold it in front of the –‘. 

‘Idiot’, the vein on Phinks’ temple was already throbbing when he effortlessly opened the door. 

‘How was I supposed to know you need to shove it in there? You can barely see the slot!’. ‘It’s called common sense, ever heard of it?’. ‘Shut up’, you pushed against his shoulder while entering the room. 

You scanned the room, noticing the beautiful shopping bags that were on the bed. It was obvious Chrollo had bought the most expensive clothes for this mission, as it was necessary to fit in with the high-end crowd. 

‘Where’s the other bed?’, you hastily looked across the room. ‘It’s a suite idiot, there isn’t another one’. ‘You’re not sleeping in one bed with me, you can sleep on the ground’. ‘You sleep on the ground, since you’re the one making a problem out of it’. 

Sometimes it felt almost exhausting, the back and forth bickering with Phinks. 

‘Tsk’, you angrily walked to the bathroom, loudly smacking the door behind you. 

You locked the door before sitting down on the toilet lid with your hands in your hair. ‘Make the best out of it, even if you don’t like him. Just pretend’. You needed to convince yourself to be the bigger person, to go on this mission with Phinks and not kill each other. 

‘Phinks?’, you tried to sound friendly. ‘Hellooo?’, you chanted, already annoyed that he didn’t answer. 

Huh? He was nowhere to be seen. Did he leave? 

‘Whatever’, you murmured before looking into one of the bags, inspecting the dress Chrollo got you. ‘Of course, a red ballgown, perfect for a masked ball’, you rolled your eyes. ‘Better try it on’, you picked up the bag and went to the excessively large bathroom. 

‘Shit’, you looked for a place to hide when you heard someone open the door. You didn’t want Phinks to see you like this; turning like a princess in front of the mirror. He couldn’t see you with your guard down. 

‘Y/N?’, Phinks sighed, his eyes locked on the ground when he entered the room, ‘Listen, I want this mission to succeed so why don’t we-‘. 

Phinks eyes went round when he saw you, his feet glued to the floor. 

‘D-don’t look!’, you hastily turned around, ‘I-I just wanted to know if it fitted me, that’s all!’. 

It didn’t just ‘fit’ you. No, it looked as if the dress was made just for you. Your breasts were nicely pushed together, your waist accentuated in all the right spots… You looked as if you stepped right out of a fairy tale. 

‘I’m going to see it tomorrow anyway’, Phinks tried to reply as coldly as possible, ‘I brought you this’. 

You slowly looked over your shoulder, a red glow on your cheeks. 

‘Chai latte, you drink this every morning, don't you?’. 

‘Is it poisoned?’, you unnecessarily snapped back. ‘Look’, Phinks placed the cup on the table next to him, ‘Let’s just try to get along, okay? Or at least pretend’. 

He had to force himself to look away from you, to remember all the scolding and insults between you two. He didn’t like what he felt when he looked at you right now; the way his heart was beating out of his chest, or the way his hands had started to shake.

‘Thanks for the latte’, you softly replied, ‘I’m going to get changed’. 

---

‘Bored’, you sighed while laying down on the bed, ‘Want to go out?’. ‘To where?’, Phinks was lying next to you, staring at the ceiling. ‘Don’t know, a bar, maybe?’. ‘Fuck it, why not?’, he grunted while sitting up straight, ‘Mission’s not until tomorrow evening, a few drinks won’t hurt’. 

Yeah, a few drinks won’t hurt, but you didn’t have a few, did you?  

‘F-fei…’, you hiccuped. ‘Stop calling me Fei!’, Phinks tightened his grip around his glass, ‘I know you’re dumb, but I didn’t know you were blind too’. ‘Stop pouting, crybaby’, you playfully punched him, ‘You know… You’re actually not that bad to be around’. ‘You’re just drunk’, Phinks smirked while taking another shot. ‘N-no no no!’, you hastily replied, ‘I’m serious! I’m having a really good time’. 

‘You’re okay too, I guess’, Phinks looked at the empty glasses in front of him. 

You weren’t the only one who had a little too much to drink, even Phinks had started to feel the effects of the alcohol. 

‘Let’s go to a karaoke bar!’, you startled Phinks when you suddenly pushed your chair back. ‘Careful’, he placed his hand on your back when he noticed your wobbly stance.

Shit, you could feel your cheeks getting red again at the unexpected touch. His hand was big, bigger than the width of your back, or so it felt like anyway. 

‘M-maybe it’s best if we go back to the hotel’, you stumbled over your words, ‘I-I’m tired’.

You wanted to avoid these kinds of moments at all costs; the burning cheeks, the tingles in your stomach… No, it was best if you just went to sleep. 

‘I agree’, Phinks tried to remove his hand from your back, but it felt as if it was glued onto you. ‘I-I’ll guide you to the taxi, don’t want you to fall’. 

And he did. He kept his hand firmly on your back, making sure you didn’t hurt yourself.

‘You okay?’, Phinks frowned when he noticed the way you’d started to walk closer to him, causing his arm to fully wrap around your waist. ‘Hm’, you shyly nodded, ‘I’m okay’. 

All the laughs, the giggles… They completely disappeared once you were sitting next to him in the car. All that there was left was an awkward silence. 

‘Here’, Phinks opened your door after paying the driver, ‘I’ll help you’. ‘N-no I’m fine, thanks’. 

He couldn’t deny it any longer, you were beautiful. Even with your messy hair, your drunken giggles… You were unapologetically beautiful.

‘Watch out’, Phinks grabbed your arm when he saw you were going to fall, ‘You sure you’re okay?’. 

No. No, you weren’t okay. You were everything but ‘okay’.  You were drunk, and you couldn’t stop thinking about kissing him. 

‘Sorry’, you smiled, ‘J-just a little drunk, but I’m fine, really’. 

You immediately headed to the bathroom once you entered the room. You needed a moment to recollect yourself. 

‘Get yourself together’, you looked into the mirror while putting your hair up into a messy bun, ‘You’re not going to kiss him, okay? You’re not!’. 

You angrily undressed before putting on one of your comfy, oversized shirts you always slept in. 

‘Hm?’, you froze when you saw Phinks sitting on the bed. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, or pants, just his boxers. ‘Sorry’, Phinks laid down when he heard you, ‘'Can't sleep with a lot of clothes on’. ‘O-oh r-right, n-no that’s fine’, you nervously giggled before laying down next to him. 

God, this must have been the most awkward moment of your life. Did that mean Phinks felt it too? The tension in the air? Or was it just you? 

‘Goodnight’, you shyly whispered once you lay as far away from his as possible. 

No response. 

‘Are we going to do this or not?’. ‘Huh?’, you slowly turned your head. ‘Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about’, his hand slowly stroked over your leg. ‘D-don’t’, you shyly pulled your leg away. 

‘You don’t want this?’. 

You did, you wanted this so bad. It was all you could think about. 

‘Y-you’re drunk’. ‘So are you’.  

‘What happens when we wake up?’, you slowly shuffled closer to him. ‘We pretend it never happened. We pretend we came back and went to sleep’, Phinks happily welcomed your body against his, his hand slowly stroking over your back. 

You felt so small in his arms, so safe. 

‘Okay’, you looked into his eyes, unsure of what to do next. ‘Are you nervous?’, his hand gently pulled on the fabric of your shirt, ‘This isn’t your first time, is it?’. 

‘N-no, of course not!’, you frowned, ‘And I’m not nervous’. 

You were though, you were extremely nervous. 

‘Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle’, he smirked while playing with the thin band of your slip.

‘S-shut up’, you wanted to hide your face, to hide your flush cheeks. ‘Don’t do that’, he softly tilted your head, his thumb stroking over your bottom lip. 

How could he be this gentle? This affectionate? For some reason, you thought he would be rough and impatient. 

‘Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?’. ‘Hm’, you softly replied, heart beating out of your chest. 

He took his time before finally kissing you. First placing a few kisses on your cheek, your neck… But once he did, you felt like you were going crazy. His kiss was so passionate, so tender. 

‘Ssh’, he smiled when he heard your cute, little whimpers, ‘I’m only kissing you’. Phinks slowly moved his hand to your legs, slowly spreading them, ‘Wonder how you’ll sound when I do this’. 

‘Hmpf’, you immediately grabbed onto the sheets next to you when you felt his digits gently rubbing over your panties. ‘God, you’re soaking wet’, he looked into your eyes with disbelief, ‘How do you want me to take my time with you when you’re practically begging to be fucked?’. 

‘Don’t’, you shakily responded, ‘Need you now, can’t wait’. 

You easily slipped off your panties, after which Phinks gladly pulled off your shirt. 

‘Too perfect’, he placed soft kisses on your breasts, his fingers slowly pumping in and out of you. 

‘Ready for me, princess?’. ‘D-don’t call me that’. ‘How can I not call you that after seeing you in your dress? You looked stunning’. ‘Shut up’, you pressed your lips against his, trying to stir away from the awkward topic. 

‘Shit’, Phinks eyes shot towards yours when he pressed his tip against your entrance, ‘You’re so tight, you sure you can take me?’. ‘Uhu’, your tongue grazed your bottom lip, ‘Please Phinks, don’t tease me’. 

‘Be careful what you wish for’, a devilish smirk before he bottomed out in one thrust. ‘Shit’, your legs instantly wrapped around him, trying to hold him in place for a second. 

You weren’t the only one who needed to get used to this feeling. Phinks needed to do the same. Your walls were already clenching around him so nicely… It felt as if you were made for him. 

‘Can I?’, concerned eyes scanned your face. You nodded in response, ‘Y-you can mo-‘. 

Phinks couldn’t wait for you to finish your sentence. Once he heard ‘you can’, he slowly started thrusting in and out of you. 

‘How can you be this tight?’, he grunted while trying to contain himself, because he wanted to fuck you dumb. He wanted to see you trembling underneath him, to hear you beg him to stop… but he couldn’t. 

He didn’t want the first and last time with you to be like that. Maybe it was the booze that made him feel like this, but he had too much respect for you to fuck you like a one-night stand. He wanted to take you as if you were his lover, as if you were the most precious thing in the entire world. So he made sure to take his time, to let his hands explore your body, to let his tongue taste you…

‘Phinks I’m going to-‘, ‘That’s okay princess, you can come’, his thumb gently pressed down on your little nub, ‘Want me to come with you?’. 

‘Y-yes, please Phinks’. 

‘Keep calling out my name, can you do that for me?’, he started to draw circles on your little nub, ‘I want to hear you say my name when you come, okay?’. 

And you obeyed. You kept calling out his name, over and over again. Honestly, it sounded like music to his ears. No one ever called out his name so sweetly as you. 

‘Going to come princess’, he looked into your eyes, ‘Want you to take all of it, okay? Don’t want you to waste anything’. 

You eagerly nodded; chin tilted towards the ceiling as you felt the heat rise to your stomach. 

‘S-shit’, Phinks let his head rest against your shoulder, ‘You okay?’. 

You nodded, still shaking from your orgasm. 

‘Felt really good’, you sighed once Phinks laid down next to you, your arm resting on your forehead. ‘It did’, the blonde agreed, still trying to catch his breath. 

‘I’ll get something to clean you up’, he walked to the bathroom, quickly grabbing a towel. 

‘Thanks’, you awkwardly whispered once he was done, ‘Goodnight’. ‘Night’, Phinks replied, already regretting what happened. How was he supposed to pretend nothing had happened when no one ever made him feel like this? 

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep. The mixture of alcohol with the high after an orgasm ensured a deep sleep. 

‘Huh?’, you woke up to the sound of Phinks getting dressed. It took you a moment before you realized that you needed to pretend nothing had happened. 

‘Morning’, Phinks coldly greeted you while putting on his shoes, ‘Going to take a walk, see you later’. ‘Y-yeah, later’, you tried to hide the lump in your throat. 

Phinks didn’t want this. He didn’t want to pretend like nothing had happened, but you made it clear you wanted to. Otherwise, you would’ve said something after you slept with him, or at least cuddled him, right? 

‘Chai latte?’, he paused before opening the door. ‘Please’. 

[cloudy-encanto]

Day 21 of Encantober 🌈✨ and only 10 to go!

Exciting now the other characters are coming into the story too, almost every chapter from here on a new Madrigal is gonna join the narrative 🥹💖✨

Today’s prompt: Change

Excerpt:

Alma hadn't really had a chance to enjoy her own children like this when they were babies. The early years were a blur of panic and tears and clinging to the triplets for dear life. Alma knew she had messed up a lot with her own children, but was determined not to repeat the same mistakes twice. This time, Alma was going to get it right.

The little girl held Alma's fingers and smiled, looking up with big, sparkling eyes. Alma's breath caught as she realised the baby looked almost exactly like her sisters.

"Do you love her, Mama?" Julieta asked, watching with tired but hopeful eyes as Alma stroked the baby's sleek black hair. Agustin kissed Julieta, cuddling her as they watched.

"I do." Alma told her, unable to hold back her smile. "I love her so much, mija."

Julieta smiled back, blinking slowly in exhaustion. She relaxed into Agustin, as if now she knew that Mama approved, everything else would be alright. Agustin gently wiped the hair that'd slicked to Julieta's forehead, kissing her head as she rested against his chest and closed her eyes.

Isabela continued to watch Alma with intelligent eyes, and Alma couldn't look away.

This was a fresh chance for Alma to get things right. To change for the better. Alma would never say a harsh word, never lay a hand on this little angel.

Alma felt determined to give Isabela the childhood that she and her sisters never had. To shield her from the cruelty of this world, to make sure nothing ever hurt her.

"Isabela." Alma whispered. "I promise, you are going to have the perfect life."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42056430/chapters/106810821

[kingofbodyrolls]

BTS fic recs: June 2023

I've finally gotten back to reading again, so I wanted to make a monthly rec list of my favorite readings for that given month 🥰 All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ 

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post ♥ 

BTS fic rec index → May |💜| Jul | Aug | Sep (jjk)(knj) | Oct (pjm) | Nov (*) | Dec (ksj)(kth) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, personal favorites = 💯. 

⭐The Boy with Galaxies in His Eyes 💯 by @oddinary4bts​ // jjk x reader // idol!au + fwb2l // 🌩️🥵🥰

📝 You had never thought the night sky could be found in someone’s eyes. That is, until you met Jeon Jungkook and his gravity pulled you in. Will he crush you with the galaxies in his eyes, or will you learn to explore his worlds and make them yours?

🗨️ It is a long one, but damn is it worth it! It will take you for the very best rollercoaster ride of your life. So if you haven’t read this yet, what are you honestly doing with your life? 

⭐The Boy with Galaxies in His Eyes: The First Time (drabble) by @oddinary4bts  // jjk x reader // idol!au + fwb2l // 🥵🥰

📝 Jeon Jungkook is an enigma of galaxies and black holes. When he texts you to hang out late at night, you can’t resist the gravity of him. After all, you’ve always been a sucker for outer space.

🗨️ This is a drabble of their first time together and if you read the parent fic, promise me you won’t sleep on this one! ✨

⭐I want to be with you 💯 by @oddinary4bts�� // pjm x reader // idol!au + s2f2l (fan) // 🌩️🥵🥰

📝 Moving to Seoul has always seemed like a good idea, until the bubble bursts when you realize your new neighbor is Park Jimin, and he’s not the sweet angel you’ve always imagined him to be. Will the reality of Park Jimin forever be a nightmare, or will he turn into a sweet dream?

🗨️ This was the first idol!au that I loved (and made me read the others). I adore this and I will read it again sometime 🥰

⭐Beneath the Water 💯 by @jungshookz  // pjm x reader // fantasy!au + mermaid!au // 🌩️🥵🥰😂

📝 His legs were sparkling. You looked up from his face slowly and towards his legs, your head tilting in confusion when you were met with the sight of… well, it certainly wasn’t a pair of legs. What the fuck?

🗨️ This is just perfect; a tiny bit angst, gold certified comedy and fluff (with a sprinkle of smut). There’s also a bullet point drabble of this, so please check that out too (here).

⭐Failure to Communicate by @gukslut and @stutterfly​ // pjm x reader // college!au + r2l // 🌩️🥵😂

📝 Could either of you write an enemies to lover story about jimin and y/n set in college where he was her TA and got her kicked out of her major bc he didnt give her the grade she needed and was generally unhelpful?

🗨️ I don’t have much to say, just go read it - it speaks for itself ✨

⭐On Mute by @yoon-kooks​ // jjk x reader // office!au, coworkers!au, fuckboy!gamer!jjk + f2l // 🥵🥰

📝 You always assumed your handsome coworker was down to fuck anyone in the office except for you. He always assumed you weren’t interested in a guy like him. And both of you were content with never admitting your feelings… until he unknowingly confides in you in the realms of a certain tactical FPS game.

🗨️ It’s just so cute and wholesome 🥹

⭐Make Me 💯 by @jikookiekosmos​ // pjm x reader // office!au, boss!jimin/employee!reader + dom/sub themes // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 After a bad breakup, you decide to go out one night and drink your sorrows away - that is, until you see your now ex-boyfriend there with someone clinging to his arm. To get your mind off of things, you go back to your job after hours; what you don’t expect is for your boss and CEO of the company, Park Jimin, to show up and offer you help in ways you didn’t know you needed.

🗨️ It has heavy dom/sub themes (which I’m normally not into, but imma switch for this one!). It is incredibly hot and so, so damn perfect 🥵

⭐Pay Attention 💯 by @jikookiekosmos​ // pjm x reader // office!au, boss!jimin/employee!reader + dom/sub themes // 🥵🥰

📝 You’d mentioned it in passing once before, your fantasy about blowing your boss - and now boyfriend - under his desk during one of his important CEO business meetings. So what happens when you want to turn that fantasy into a reality, and he wants it just as much?

🗨️ This is a sequel to ‘Make Me’ (but can be read as a stand-alone) - and it is just pure dirty smut. The dynamic between reader and Jimin is just so good ✨

⭐On Call: part 1 & On Call: part 2 by @yoonjinkooked​ // jjk x reader // s2l + rom-com // 🥵😂

📝 After a catastrophic first date, you end up leaving the hospital angry, tired and date-less. Hoping to have a drink or five, you end up in a nearby bar, sitting next to the same doctor who caught your eye earlier. 

🗨️ Both parts are really, really good!

⭐Shake Shack 💯 by @kth1​ // pjm x reader // s2l (though they went to the same high school) // 🥵🥰

📝 Crushing on a man ever since high school, you failed time and time again to actively talk to him. Until one sweaty summer day, you finally developed the courage to ask him out on a date.

🗨️ The story is so good, perfect amounts of sweet, a bit fluffy and then downright saucy!

⭐A Night at the Mall by @bunnybubae​ // jjk x reader // f2l // 🥵🥰

📝 Your best friend Jungkook works as a security guard at the mall and everything takes an interesting twist when you go to visit him during his shift on a friday night.

🗨️ Jungkook is so sweet and funny in this, ahh.

⭐Backtrack 💯 by @mapofthesea​ // myg x pjm x reader // producers!yoonmin, assistant!reader, bi!yoongi // 🥵🥰

📝 There’s no telling just how long you’d been stuck in the windowless studio, and you’re just about ready to walk out and forfeit your paycheck for the week, until your bosses strike up an interesting bargain.

🗨️ Holy fuck 🥵 I feel like I need to take a very long shower now 🫣🫣🫣 this is probably one of the dirtiest fics I’ve read. It’s so good 🤤

⭐The Forgotten Spaces [completed series] 💯 by @oddinary4bts​ // jjk x reader // college!au, dancer!au + e2l // 🌩️🥵🥰

📝 you’ve been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

🗨️ This is truly a masterpiece! The writing is perfection and the characters have so much soul, dimension, hurt and love. It is exceptional 👏🏾♥️ you just have to read this gem 💎

Thank you so much for going through my recommendations! I hope you find something that you like and show it some love. All of these fics and writers have inspired me to write again, so I'm finally working on my own stuff again (it’s been like 7+ years, yikes 🙈). Hopefully I'll actually finish something this time 😂 but damn it feels good to write again ♥ 

If you should be interested in more BTS fic recs please find more here 😀

[lexa-griffins]

🥹 For a holiday away from Polis, Lexa takes Clarke to the glowing forest. They have lovely picnics at night, braid glow in the dark flowers into their hair, watch the stars cuddled together in a blanket, and make love under the lights and sparkles ✨

🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 they deserve all the adorable getaway perks, including Lexa looking around with an adorable smile staring at the forest glowing around then and commenting how beautiful it is while Clarke stares at her with heart eyes and agrees, only for Lexa to look back and see her staring at her, shoving her shoulder playfully and telling Clarke /she's/ the beautiful one to which Clarke highly disagrees until they start the cutest fight of pointing out everything that's beautiful about one another both inside and out and they are laying there below the moon, the stars and a forest of glowing beings and yet nothing is more beautiful to one either than the other and i- 🥹🥹🥺🥺

[shiftingparadise]

hii can i pls request a headcanon of gojo & kid fushiguros megumi & tsumiki x s/o reader🥺 sorta like a found family kinda thing. i guess like over the yrs knowing/dating gojo & the fushiguros how their relationship w the reader is or how fond reader is w the fushiguro kids & how much gojo loves it?

I honestly felt lost because I didn't know if you wanted me to write it down in bullet points or in a short story, so I really hope you don't mind the way I chose to write it! That said, I really love the idea of Gojo and his little family 🥹 my heart melts at the thought, so thank you for this request 🤍✨

Word count: 1420

‘Okay, but only one bite, don’t want you to get sick’, you smiled while scooping some cookie dough out of the bowl, ‘Here’. 

Megumi eagerly grabbed the spoon with his two little hands. 

‘Hmm’, his eyes sparkled when the sweet taste rolled over his taste buds, ‘Can I get more, please?’. ‘No’, you softly brushed through his dark hair, ‘But you can get a cookie once they’re done’. 

‘Fushigurooooo’.

You closed your eyes when you heard Gojo’s voice down the hallway, knowing your relaxed baking session would soon be over. ‘Ah look how cute’, Gojo intertwined his hands while leaning against the door frame, ‘The love of my life baking cookies with Gumi’. 

You could see Megumi’s smile fading into an annoyed glare. 

‘What do you say, little Gumi? Want to train some more with the strongest sensei in the world?’, Gojo had a smug look on his face, like usual. ‘Strongest sensei in the world? You graduated 2 years ago Satoru, don’t get too confident’, you smirked while placing the tray into the oven. ‘Auwtch, that hurt’, he pouted while dramatically placing his hand on his chest. ‘Come on Fushiguro, let’s get away from her, she’s being mean to me’, Gojo held out his hand for Megumi to grab. 

‘No!’, Megumi quickly hid behind you, tucking at your shirt, ‘I want to stay with Y/N-san’. ‘Heh?’, Gojo tilted his head, lips parted from each other. ‘I want to stay here’, Megumi replied coldly. 

A small chuckle left your body as you could see your boyfriend's ego shatter. 

‘I’m sorry Megumi, but you have to train’, you lowered yourself, so your eyes were meeting the sweet boy Gojo took under his wings, ‘But let’s make a deal’. ‘A deal?’, Megumi frowned, ‘Hm, if you train with Gojo-sensei and you listen to his stupid jokes, I’ll let you have as many cookies as you want when you get back’. 

‘Psh’, Gojo was sulking with his arms crossed, ‘Can’t believe this’. ‘Okay’, Megumi lowered his eyes while looking at Gojo, ‘Let’s go Gojo-sensei’. ‘Gumi wait’, you quickly grabbed his jacket from the chair, ‘You may be the strongest sensei, Saturo, but certainly not the most perceptive one. It’s freezing outside’. 

You handed Megumi the jacket while smiling at your boyfriend, ‘He likes me more’, you whispered. ‘Wait till I get home’, he whispered back, a smug look on his face, ‘I’m taking him to the toyshop’. 

‘Y/N-san?’, a shy voice appeared from behind Gojo, ‘C-can I get cookies too?’. ‘Of course, crazy’, you held out your hand for Tsumiki, which she quickly grabbed. ‘See you’, you waived at Megumi, ‘Make sure he wears his jacket, okay Satoru?’. ‘Yeah yeah’, he nonchalantly waved his hand in the air, ‘Bye-bye’. 

‘Want to have a girl's day?’, you looked at Tsumiki, who was looking at you with big eyes. ‘W-what’s that?’, ‘Well, we can go buy you some new clothes, maybe get you some new books to read, … what do you say? Just us two’. She quickly nodded her head in response before running into the hallway.

‘Ready Y/N-san’, she popped her head through the  door frame while hastily putting on her coat, ‘Let’s go then’, you smiled while adjusting the scarf around her neck, ‘Don’t want you to get cold’.

--- 

‘In the toyshop right now’. 

You rolled your eyes when you saw the picture Satoru send you. 

‘In the bookstore right now :3’. 

A smirk on your face when you replied with a picture of Tsumiki and you. 

‘Can’t believe this!!! >:( How dare you do things like that without me Y/N :’(((‘ 

‘Tch’, you shook your head, a small smile on your face. 

‘Love you <3 Now get off your phone and spend some time with Megumi!’. 

‘Who doesn’t love the world’s strongest and coolest sensei? Jk, love you ;)’. 

--- 

‘We’re baaack’, Gojo chanted through the hallway. 

You could see little Megumi felt as annoyed as ever when he entered through the door, while your boyfriend was looking proudly at the bags he was holding. 

‘So, you’ve survived Gojo-sensei’s jokes’, you winked at Megumi, ‘Here, take this and go join your sister on the couch. It's movie night’. ‘Really?’, Megumi’s eyes lit back up,’ Hm, your sister chose some great movies’. 

Without any hesitation, Megumi grabbed the plate of cookies and joined Tsumiki under a blanket. 

‘Movie night? Really?’, Saturo sighed. ‘I thought you loved movie night?’, you frowned while walking closer to your boyfriend. ‘I do, but I just got a call and there is a curse I need to deal with’. 

You could see the playfulness disappearing from his face. 

‘Oh’, you lowered your eyes, ‘Don’t worry, we’ll make sure you get to join the next one’. ‘Yeah’, Satoru forced a smile while cupping your cheek, ‘Anyway, it’s a grade 2 curse, so it won’t take too long’.  ‘Be careful, okay?’, a concerned look filled your eyes. Your boyfriend was strong, probably the strongest sorcerer around, but you couldn’t help but worry when he was away. ‘You know me’, he smiled before placing a soft kiss on your lips. ‘See you tomorrow, little Fushiguros’, he waived at the two kids who were munching on the cookies you’d made. 

---

‘Well, that was more exhausting than I thought’, Gojo sighed while entering the apartment. 

He tried to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake up his little ‘Fushiguros’, or you. 

‘I’m starving’, he grunted while grabbing one of the few cookies left, leaning against the kitchen counter. ‘Huh?’, he tilted his head when he noticed the TV was still on. 

Gojo’s heart melted when he could see Megumi and Tsumiki laying on either side of your lap, your arms resting on their backs. 

‘Looked like you 3 had a great time’, he whispered while taking his phone, trying to get a picture of how little Megumi was drooling, ‘Man, wish I could sleep like that on her lap, but everything for my little Fushiguros’. 

Gojo took a deep breath before stretching himself out, trying to relieve some of the tension he felt from the adrenaline still rushing through his body.

‘Always room for one more Satoru’, you whispered with a smile, ‘You know there isn’t’, he chuckled while placing a hand in his pocket, ‘S-should we get them into their bed or?’. 

Megumi started tugging at his blanket, yawning before nestling his head closer to his sister.  

‘Maybe there’s still some room’, he smiled before gently picking up Megumi, trying his best not to wake him up. 

Gojo sat down next to you, letting his head fall back on the couch after he made sure Megumi was laying comfortable on his lap.

‘I don’t think he likes me that much’, Gojo chuckled while readjusting the blanket covering Megumi, ‘But he likes you, that’s for sure. They both do’. 

You let your head rest on his shoulder, tightening your grip around Tsumiki.

‘They like you, don’t worry’, ‘Not worrying’, he chuckled, slowly brushing through Megumi’s hair. 

‘Gojo-sensei?’, Megumi drowsily opened one eye, looking up at Gojo. ‘Heh? Sorry, little Fushiguro, didn’t mean to wake you up’, Gojo let out a nervous chuckle. ‘You just got back from fighting a curse, right?’, ‘That’s right’, Gojo smiled. ‘A-are you hurt?’, Megumi tightened his grip around the blanket he was holding, ‘No of course not, I’m the strongest, remember?’, Gojo pointed towards his chest with his thumb. ‘Will I be like you when I grow up sensei?’. 

Megumi’s question must have taken your boyfriend by surprise. Gojo usually never took so long to answer a question. 

‘You want to be like me?’, ‘Hm’, Megumi nestled his face into Gojo’s stomach, ‘I want to protect the people I care about, like you do sensei’. 

Gojo slowly placed a hand on Megumi’s back, wanting to give the same affection you gave to his little Fushiguros. 

‘You’ll be better than me Fushiguro, now go back to sleep. Tomorrow’s training will be harder than usual’. ‘Better?’, Megumi looked up at his teacher with one eye, ‘Hm’, Gojo smiled with some silly sign. ‘Goodnight Gojo sensei’, ‘Goodnight little Fushiguro’. 

Gojo closed his eyes, a smile resting on his face. He loved this. He loved the way you cared about them, the way they trusted you. Gojo could come home to this every day, and he would never get tired of seeing the people he loved most in this world sound asleep on his couch.