#my silver light 🥰💕
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BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you're supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you're beautiful inside and out 💚
NO YOUU 🫵
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Waking up before your husband was always a treat.
This time only between you two and no one else.
He was known for his golden locks. Charming and bright against the silver of his armor.
What you thought most beautiful of all?
The smile from one recently waken from slumber. Eyes a soft blue bright in a pool of pink, speaking of how relaxed he was of this moment.
He stares at you as if you adorned the sun in the bright sky.
How you wish that was so. If then, could you give him the freedom he so rightly deserves. Let him spread his wings far and wide to soar the sky.
“May I touch you?”
“You needn’t ask.“
But you did ask. You always will.
He was somone chained to duty and crown. Someone whose wings clipped.
You would always ask him. Give him this freedom of choice.
He knew. He would take your hand every time. Calloused from training but treating yours as fine jewels. Placing it over his heart.
Yours. Yours. Yours.
While his body might not belong to him, his soul will always belong to you.
“My light, what are you thinking of?”
You lean into the hand that cups your cheek before taking it in yours, lips grazing across scars and hardened skin.
“How much I adore you.”
A shuddering breath.
Hands pulling you close.
Kisses filled with smiles exchanged.
Was feeling soft for The Knight of Dawn and decided to finish this fic that I started months ago. ☺️💞💞 I’m quite happy how it turned out 🫶🫶 even though that middle section came and hit me out of nowhere lol.
This was inspired by this art piece of the Knight of Dawn from months ago. (Careful, it’s nsfwish; he’s naked waist up but he’s so beautiful 🥰🥰)
Story Notes: the reason why I said Dawn’s eyes are “bright blue in a pool of pink” is not only because he has aurora colored eyes like Silver, but also because when Silver is determined or fierce, you can see his eyes become more pink highlighted. So the soft blue eyes is a tell to show how relaxed and comforted Dawn is. 💚💕
#twst knight of dawn#twst knight of dawn x reader#twst dawn knight#twst dawn knight x reader#knight of dawn#dawn knight#twst kod#x reader#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x you#twst drabbles#twst scenarios#twst fluff#disney twisted wonderland
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Study Session
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x classmate!reader
Summary: Aemond is assigned to a college work with Y/n, an absent-minded art student who doesn't give a damn about philosophy. Things don't go well since she doesn't help him at all, until the two come to an unorthodox agreement that ends the impasse.
WARNING: 18+ mdni! secret crush, semi-nudity, voyeurism, breast fetish, exchange of academic favors for "sex", modern au, no description for reader.
Word cont: 3.200k
Author's note: This just came to my mind while doing some really boring work and I ended up writing it. The Rosby house is close to Kings Landing so I chose this surname for the reader, I hope you like it.
Dedicated to the poor readers of The Gossip who read chapter 7 and are in need of some comfort for their souls after all that mess hahaha I love you all! English is not my first language 💕💕🥰
Y/n was so frustrated. That class was absolutely hellish and if it wasn't mandatory in her schedule she would certainly never even pass in front of the door. The only reasonable side to all of this was the fact that Aemond Targaryen sat in front of her during this unbearable class. He could be as arrogant as he wanted if he continued to be so hot.
The girl bit her lip as she stared at the back of his pale neck that was exposed to her eyes since his long silver hair was tied in a bun due to the heat wave. The two had never exchanged more than a few words, but Y/n couldn't help it, he was too handsome and intelligent for his own good.
She didn't know how he could understand that subject and answer all the questions the teacher asked as if they were obvious to him. Y/n did her best to hide her crush, but whenever no one was looking she couldn't help but sigh lightly as she looked at him.
She was barely in the same reality as the rest of the class when she heard her name being called harshly by the professor, pulling her out of her deep thoughts and back to real life.
-I'm sorry, professor, I was distracted. - She looked down, blushing when she realized that the whole class was looking at her while letting out light giggles.
-Which seems to be a very common occurrence with you, doesn't it? - The man spoke in an irritated voice and Y/n felt her face heat up even more.
-If you're interested in knowing, Miss Rosby, we're holding a draw for pairs of work for the semester. - The professor was still looking at Y/n as he spoke and reaching into the jar, he pulled out a new piece of paper.
-Aemond Targaryen.
Y/n felt her heart stop momentarily when she heard that name. Would her semester partner be Aemond Targaryen? The gods must have wanted to play with her.
-Good luck, Mr Targaryen, you will need it. - The man said, making the whole class laugh, except for Aemond, who, without Y/n noticing, glared at the teacher when he heard the mean joke.
After the class ended, the room gradually emptied, while the few remaining students put their books and notebooks in their backpacks. Aemond finished writing some notes in his notebook under the watchful eye of Y/n, who was anxiously waiting to talk to him.
And when he turned towards her with that serious look and that sculpted face, Y/n smiled and pretended to be disinterested.
-I don't understand half of what that man says. - She shrugged, staring at him while Aemond frowned. - I hope it won't be a problem for you to be my partner.
-Maybe you would understand if you spent more time paying attention in class and less time drawing. - Aemond rolled his good eye, putting away his own books while Y/n felt her belly heat up.
How did he know she was drawing in class if he had his back to her the whole time?
-I don't like studying boring things that guys who died centuries ago said and that don't make any sense.
-But do you like studying works that boring guys who died centuries ago painted and that don't make any sense? - He raised his eyebrows ironically, looking at her and Y/n's mouth slightly opened, not knowing what to say.
-That… That's not the point.
-Mmmm… if you say so. - The irony was poignant in his voice and expression and Y/n slightly narrowed her eyes, feeling the urge to argue more without knowing what to answer.
-They… They're not meaningless! - She snorted in annoyance and Aemond just let out a nasal laugh while raising his eyebrows.
-Most of them are just a bunch of meaningless scribbles. - He rolled his eyes, putting his backpack on his back.
-The name is surrealism, and perhaps underdeveloped minds don't understand it very well! - Y/n lifted her chin, pulled her own bag onto her shoulder and pressed the sketchbook against her chest, leaving before Aemond, leaving him with a mischievous smile on his lips as he watched her leave.
Y/n rolled her eyes, irritated with herself as she walked towards the open courtyard of the college, sitting at a stone table and throwing her bag on it, seriously considering diverting her idiotic crush on Aemond Targaryen to another guy.
Unfortunately for her, at the same moment the thought crossed her mind, his soft voice called her from behind and the hairs on the back of the girl's neck stood on end at the same moment, making her snort.
-We need to decide where and when we're going to meet to start the work. - He murmured and Y/n turned to look at him, snorting when she saw that he looked even more attractive with the sunlight shining through his silver hair.
In the natural light, the prosthetic eye was more visible than indoors, as was the thin scar that ran from the eye to the forehead and cheek. Y/n didn't give a shit, she just thought he looked even hotter if that was possible.
-Rosby? - Aemond called her, his voice miles away from taking her out of her self-imposed trance.
-I'm sorry, I got a bit distracted. - She shook her head, trying to focus on the conversation, and Aemond turned his face to the side, smiling discreetly at the action. - What did you say?
-We'll meet to start work.
-Oh, yes, yes. - She nodded thoughtfully. - How about the library?
-I don't study in the library, there are always idiots who go there to make a mess and interfere with concentration. - Aemond rolled his eyes with a frown, making her rack her brain to remember if she had ever messed up in the library.
-Yeah. They're all idiots! - She agreed, rolling her eyes when she came to the conclusion that she hadn't done anything wrong in the college library.
-We can go to my dorm. - Y/n shrugged, trying to be casual. - But my roommate is always there and never turns off the TV.
-Don't you have your own room? - He looked at her confused and Y/n laughed.
-Not all of us can own the campus. - She grimaced and Aemond rolled his eyes.
-Your family has money too.
-Having money is different from being a filthy rich Targaryen. - She grumbled as she gestured lightly with her hands, arching her eyebrows, and Aemond didn't contest her.
-Whatever, let's meet in my dorm, it's empty there and no one will disturb us.
Y/n nodded, subtly biting her lower lip at the idea that she would go to Aemond's room.
-Where is it? - She came back to reality, remembering to ask, and asking her for a pen, Aemond wrote down the number and the floor on the last page of the sketchbook that was on the table.
-See you on Friday. - He murmured, turning around and leaving her as soon as he finished writing, making her sigh once more at hearing that voice so close to her.
♤♡
Y/n did her best to look beautiful in the most disinterested way possible. Just a gray blouse with black denim shorts and a thin black coat on top, her hair tied with a simple clip and just a bit of lipstick. It was almost how she looked every day, except for the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra, but with the coat on top he probably wouldn't even notice that fact.
Apart from the fact that when she got there she discovered that they were fixing the cooling system in Aemond's building and now she was without the coat and wearing only the thin blouse, attracting Aemond's discreet glance at her from time to time.
The two spread their materials across the table in the living room connected to the bedroom and sat on the floor to study. Unfortunately, Aemond was having more trouble concentrating in his own room than in the library, with the sight of Y/n in that blouse in front of him, scribbling drawings on her philosophy book while pretending to read something.
When he finally managed to read a few words, he could hear her melodious laughter from the other side of the table.
-What is it? - He murmured almost in a growl making her become serious.
-It's just that I'm watching and I think my shared dorm room would fit inside yours.- She shrugged and Aemond rolled his eyes without giving a verbal response.
Minutes later, when he went back to reading focused and taking some important notes, her voice rang out once again, distracting him.
-I'm so lazy. - Y/n threw herself onto the philosophy books open on the coffee table in Aemond's dorm room, and he slightly arched his eyebrows.
-You haven't done anything so far. - He grumbled as he took note of an important quote that he would probably use in the future during the work.
-Because this subject is totally boring. - The girl mumbled with her head still lying on the books but now with her face turned towards Aemond looking at him while slowly blinking her eyes feeling a little sleepy. Until now, nothing interesting had happened outside of her imagination.
-Boredom or not, I think it's better to start working on your part, because there's no way I'm going to give you credit for something you didn't do. - Aemond looked at her very seriously while Y/n sulked, crossing her arms under her breasts, slightly drawing the older man's attention there again.
-Are you always this boring, Targaryen? - Y/n snorted, making one of the loose strands of hair fly out of her pretty face.
-This isn't boring, this is justice. - His eyes were still discreetly fixed on the subtle neckline of the gray blouse that Y/n was wearing, except that now she noticed it, feeling her stomach tingle with the idea that Aemond Targaryen was looking at her.
-Talking about justice and being a total pervert. - She slightly pressed her eyes to him while tightening her arms under her breasts, making them more prominent, making Aemond cough with a subtle choke, looking away.
-Mmmm, I wasn't looking at your breasts. - He grunted looking in another direction.
-Ah, you certainly were. - She arched her eyebrows laughing. - If you want to know, women always know when you're looking.
-What's that? A weird sixth sense? - Aemond raised his eyebrows in disbelief, still a little embarrassed for having been caught.
-Something like that. - Y/n shrugged with a slight grimace, but then an idea popped into her head making her subtly bite her lower lip, staring at him as she gathered her courage.
-How about we make a deal? - Y/n was still biting her lower lip without believing she was actually going to say that to him.
-What kind of deal? - Aemond tilted his forehead, confused but interested, while his eyes inadvertently fell once again on her breasts.
-I'll let you be a perv and look at my boobs, and you do my part in this stupid job. - She suggested, slowly poking the hem of her own thin blouse under the attentive gaze of Aemond, who felt his own mouth drying up.
-Mmmm. - He mocked her with an ironic smile. - No deal. This work is almost 30 pages long, I want to at least be able to touch them.
-What? - She narrowed her eyes slightly while arching her right eyebrow now, not believing what he was saying.
-That's right, and you'll be topless while i writing the work. It's that or nothing. - He smiled maliciously as he arched his eyebrows, waiting for her answer, being almost certain that she would give up on the idea.
-Gods, you're more perv than I thought. - She grumbled, staring at him with a frown as she tried to process the fact that Aemond Targaryen really had asked to touch her boobs.
-Do we have a deal? - Aemond asked, still with a dirty smile on his face, and Y/n rolled her eyes at him, mumbling something to herself, unable to call him an idiot since she had given him the idea.
-We have a deal. - She spoke firmly, feeling soft shivers down her thighs as she said this, making Aemond subtly widen his eyes in shock at her accepting. - But… I don't want to read a single sentence about this subject, I don't want to know about these idiot philosophers and much less about their silly theories.
-These aren't silly theories… - Aemond rolled his eyes condescendingly at the girl's lack of understanding on such an important subject, it almost affected the crush he had on her… almost.
-Ah. - She cut him off instantly. - I don't want to know. Deal?
-Deal. - He grimaced in slight disgust, if she weren't so hot it wouldn't be worth all the effort, Aemond thought rolling his eyes.
With a sigh Y/n pulled the gray blouse of thin fabric over her head leaving her bare breasts exposed to Aemond's hungry and raw gaze that made her skin crawl almost instantly.
The moment she took off her blouse, Aemond took away his previous thought. She was certainly worth the effort and he would definitely do a thousand jobs like that just to take a look at those breasts.
Feeling confident under his gaze Y/n sat on the two-seater sofa and once again crossed her arms under her now bare breasts while looking at him with one of her eyebrows raised.
Taking a deep breath, Aemond sat down next to her, staring at that beautiful pair of breasts that he could say for sure were the most beautiful he had ever laid eyes on in his life.
-Can I? - He reached out his hands to her breasts, but stopped just before touching them, wanting her to be one hundred percent sure of what she was doing. And when the girl nodded positively while biting her lower lip and subtly pressing her legs together, he touched his palms, feeling her soft breasts and almost moaning at the soft sensation.
Little by little he moved his hands while looking at her with a very serious look, and with the tips of his thin fingers he began to massage her erect nipples with increasing dedication, observing the responses her body gave him. Every soft tremor, every subtle gasp, every press and rub of her thighs against each other.
-They're perfect. - He praised softly as he stimulated them, eliciting a soft moan from Y/n who bent down even more offering her own breasts to Aemond.
She was lost in his touches, so gentle yet so demanding. No one had ever given her so much pleasure just by touching her breasts, and Y/n wanted to moan with pleasure but was holding herself back so as not to seem so given. She pressed her eyes tightly, feeling the shocks of pleasure running through her body and going straight down to her completely soaked pussy.
Suddenly, with her eyes still closed, Y/n felt Aemond's warm breath close to her skin, and opened her eyes at the same moment, looking at him.
-What are you doing? - She gasped, looking directly into that blue eye that had left her fascinated since the first time she saw it and that now looking so closely she thought it contained some violet reflections.
-I said I wanted to touch, you didn't specify just using of hands. - He murmured dirtyly, lowering his mouth over Y/n's breasts and sucking deeply on her excited nipple, which curved her back against the couch, finally moaning loudly in pure contentment.
-Oh Aemond please more. - She whimpered, writhing and pressing her thighs together. - So good... so good.
From that moment on, it was impossible for her to contain her own moans, his mouth felt so incredible against her already sensitive nipples. With each suction she trembled and tightened her thighs while gripping the sofa tightly, almost digging her nails into the upholstery.
-By the gods, you have the tastiest tits I've ever tasted in my life. - Aemond moaned between the hungry sucks and firm, desperate caresses, sending a new wave of pleasure over her as she heard those words. And without control over her own body, Y/n put her hands in Aemond's hair, tangling her fingers there and holding her head against herself as she moaned his name in despair.
Her pulling on his hair did something almost wild to Aemond, he usually didn't like it when people pulled his hair, but at that moment… Fuck, it really felt good. And when she started moaning his name in a completely lacking way while rubbing her pussy on the couch like a desperate bitch in heat, he felt himself on the edge.
While he sucked and licked her left nipple, caressing the right one with his hand, drawing waves and waves of pleasure from her, he guided his vacant hand inside the gray sweatpants he was wearing and finally paid attention to his cock, which was leaking and making a mess against the fabric of his boxers.
He violently fucked his cock against the left hand while still inside his pants while inevitably moaning against Y/n's nipple, making her rub even harder against the sofa.
-Aemond. - Came Y/n's broken voice in a moan that was almost a whimper as she shuddered without control over her own body, writhing on the couch, feeling the unbridled pleasure of the orgasm taking over her.
And hearing her beg for his name as she writhed in the midst of orgasm, Aemond reached his own peak of pleasure, spurting against his own hand in thick, strong jets, moaning with contentment against Y/n's sensitive, reddened nipples.
The two remained motionless for a few moments, just trying to regain their senses completely taken over by the debilitating pleasure. Y/n's mind went completely blank as she laid her head on the back of the sofa, still panting, completely shocked since she had never cum just by stimulating her nipples. And Aemond, in turn, tried to regain his composure with his head still buried between his classmate's delicious breasts.
And when he finally raised his head, he couldn't resist the temptation to suck her nipple once more, making her gasp with overstimulation.
-Oh, Aemond. - She sighed complainingly, lightly pushing his head away with the palm of her right hand. - They're sensitive.
-Mmmm. - He murmured caressing her naked waist. -I could suck your tits for hours if you let me.
-I could let you. - She gasped, pretending to be uncertain about the subject even though she was still sensitive to his touch, feeling the inside of her thighs tingling amid the scandalous moisture in her panties.
-Well, it's 30 pages. - He shrugged, moving his caresses up and down her waist. - And as far as I know, the pairs that Hayford assigned are until the end of the semester.
-We'll have plenty of time. - He kissed her nipple once more, making her sigh.
#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#hotd aemond#aemond x reader#aemond fanfiction#prince aemond#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen imagine#hotd imagine#hotd fanfic#hotd x reader#aemond x y/n#aemond x you#hotd x you#aemond stannies#aemond targaryen x female reader#hotd fic#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon fanfic#aemond imagine#aemond fluff#aemond fic#hotd fanfiction#hotd fluff#house of the dragon fic#house of the dragon imagine#ewan mitchell#ewan nation#aemond targaryen smut
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Midnight kisses
Joel Miller x f!Reader
Summary: Jackson celebrates the New Year’s Eve, and you're thinking about finally confessing to your crush how much you like him. but Joel Miller, the object of your affections, might have other plans in mind. (based on this adorable request!!)
Tags: FLUFF my beloved 🥰, Joel is very flirty in this one, lots of crushinggg, just old sweet mutual pining (also they're both lovesick idiots)
Warnings: mentions of alcohol and being drunk, jealousy, age difference
Word count: 5.4K
A/N: i had a lot of fun with this one 🥰 thank you so much once again for the request, dear, i hope you'll like what i came up with. (btw this was supposed to be a short fic but it seems i'm unable to write one 😔) still i hope yall will like it and as always, happy reading!! 💕
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞
The party was in a full swing.
You didn’t expect anything else from the Jackson community. Ever since you arrived here, you were astounded by the effort that the people living in this small town were making to create a life as normal and joyous as possible – for their children and themselves. And today, on New Year’s Eve, they outdid themselves. There was food, music and drinks – almost as if the apocalypse outside those walls never happened.
You were sitting by one of the tables, sipping on your beverage while you waited for your friend, Angie, to arrive. Dancing alone didn’t sound like an appealing idea, so while you waited for her, you opted for some people-watching – though if you were honest with yourself, it was more like ‘person-watching’.
Your eyes strayed to a figure on the opposite side of the room for like a twentieth time, but you couldn’t help it even if you wanted to. Because there stood a man who still, even after more than a year of knowing him, made the butterflies in your stomach take flight.
Joel Miller.
He looked really good in a clean flannel and fitting jeans, you conceded. His hair was slightly wet, like he washed it just before coming to the party, and combed a little to the back, making the silver strands in his hair and beard shine in the low lights. You found yourself unable to look away or get rid of that stupid grin on your face that lingered when Joel smiled lopsidedly at something his brother said. The muscles in his arm bulged when he lifted his glass to take a sip, and you watched the lines of his neck when his throat bobbed...
“You’re ogling,” murmured a voice next to your ear, and you jumped a little in surprise. Next to you stood Angie, smirking at you.
“Jesus, Angie.” You put your hand on your chest, your heart pounding rapidly. “A ’hello’ would be nice.”
Your friend knew, of course, about your massive crush on Joel Miller, and you thought more than a year of pining on your part would cause her to grow bored of all the jokes and teasing that she threw your way. Apparently, you were wrong.
“Hello,” she said, then sat down on the other chair and leaned closer to you with a wide smile. “You’re ogling. In a room full of people, may I add.”
“I’m not,” you murmured defensibly, but your face grew warm at the realization that she caught you. “How long have you been standing here, anyway?”
“Like half a minute. By the way, you’re also drooling.”
“I’m not!” you repeated, now in an irritated whisper. You knew you weren’t drooling, but still had to refrain yourself from wiping your mouth, not wanting to give her the satisfaction. “Stop making things up.”
“You should just go talk to him.” Angie casually nodded in Joel’s direction. “He didn’t come with a date, sooo…”
“That doesn’t mean anything. Maybe he’s waiting for someone.”
“Uh, duh!” Angie flicked you on the forehead, and you hissed. “For you to make a move. You can… oh, I know!” she bounced in her seat excitedly and clapped her hands. “Ask him to dance with you!”
You almost snorted. “Joel Miller dancing? Sure. He wouldn’t agree even if he did like me.”
“He does like you. Jesus, you flirt with each other all the time.” The smile disappeared from her lips and she rolled her eyes. “Honestly, you’d have to be blind and deaf not to notice. And maybe dead.”
“There’s no flirting, I told you.” You took a sip of your drink, glancing at the object of your affection. “He talks in this way to everyone.”
“He never called me ‘darling’,” Angie retorted. “Or gave me his jacket when we got caught up in the rain.”
You smiled softly at the memory, but that just made you feel even more hopeless, because since that day, you weren’t able to have a normal conversation with the man you liked so much.
“What do I do?” you whined, leaning on the table. “He’s so beautiful. And he for sure doesn’t see me that way.”
“Are you drunk already? You said you didn’t want a repeat from–”
“–from last year, yeah,” you finished for her and sighed. “I’m not drunk, just feeling down. There’s no way I’ll be able to tell him I like him, Angie.”
“Maybe you won’t have to.” Your friend nudged you gently. “You can just inconspicuously take him under one of the mistletoe and go ‘oh, what’s that?’, and then…”
“What mistletoe?” you asked, only now looking up at the ceiling where familiar-looking leaves were tied with a string to the support beams under the ceiling and above the doors. “Why is there mistletoe hanging?” you asked skeptically. “It’s a New Year’s Eve party.”
“I think they haven’t taken it down since last week.” Angie shrugged, but then grinned at you. “Don’t you think it’s a sign, though? So many places to kiss your crush under~...”
“Jesus, keep your voice down,” you groaned, hiding your face in your hands again. “You’re impossible.”
“You’re impossible,” she mocked in a low voice. “I’m trying to help.”
“I know, babe,” you whined, and sighed heavily again. “You know what, maybe I should just forget it. Let’s go have fun, dance, and later throw up from all the food and…”
Suddenly, Angie interrupted you with a high noise in her throat. You gave her a questioning look and she looked at you with a tight-lipped smile and wide eyes.
“He’s coming here.”
“What?!” You automatically turned around before Angie hissed for you not to look, and sure enough, there was Joel Miller, making his way through the crowd with his eyes locked on you. “Oh my god,” you breathed, clutching at your friend’s hand. “He must’ve seen us talking. What do I do?”
“You sit there and look smoking hot, and let him flirt with you,” she answered with confidence you didn’t feel. “And maybe you won’t even need to ask for the kiss, maybe he’ll do it for–” Her eyes darted above your shoulder. “Oh, hey, Miller.”
You gulped and took a deep breath before turning around and– oh, God, he looked even better up close.
Angie kicked you lightly under the table when you didn’t say anything, and you cleared your throat, smiling up at the man you were so crazy about. “Uhm, hi, Jo– Mr Miller.”
“Didn’t I tell you to call me by my name, sugar?” He had kind of a boyish smile on his face that made him look younger and even more handsome, which in turn made your stomach fill with warmth. He sat down next to you, and his eyes scanned you down and back up, slowly, lingering on your legs and curves just for a second longer. “You look lovely.” He then glanced at Angie, sending her a nod. “Both of you.”
“Really?” you beamed, and Angie kicked your ankle again, making you wince. “Uhm, thanks. You clean up nicely yourself.”
A trace of smirk ran across his face, but it was gone before you could make sure it was really there in the first place.
“Are you enjoyin’ the party?” he asked casually, hiding one hand in the front pocket of his jeans. Your eyes followed his movement before you caught yourself.
“Y-yeah, it’s nice. A little too loud for me, but really nice.”
“Maybe you wanna step outside for a bit, then?” Joel nodded in the direction of the deck in the back, and your heart started beating faster.
Did he want to be alone with you? Or was just being polite and preferred to talk somewhere quieter, and you were getting your hopes up unnecessarily? You hoped it was the first, that he genuinely enjoyed chatting with you as much as you did with him – but you never knew with a man like Joel Miller. He was an enigma, sometimes serious and so stoic that you couldn’t for the world figure out what was going on in his head, and other times charming and teasing, making you weak in the knees when he was looking at you with that fiery glint in his eyes…
“Sugar?” Joel asked, lifting his eyebrows with what seemed to be amusement, and you cursed yourself mentally for spacing out.
“Sorry, I… Yes, let’s– sure, let’s go.”
All of you stood up and you looked over your shoulder at Angie with a panicked face, but instead of reassuring you, she sent you a quick, sly grin.
“You two go ahead,” she chirped. “I’m gonna go look for my date.”
“Angie–” you whispered, giving her a look, but the woman just winked and turned around, disappearing into the crowd of dancing people. “Angie!”
Before you could go after her, you felt a big, warm hand on the small of your back, and your entire body tensed. Joel leaned over to your ear, whispering in a low voice.
“Shall we?”
“Yeah,” you squealed, so quietly he probably didn’t hear it over the loud music. “Sure.”
Your legs moved on their own, going where he guided you. The walk to the terrace in the back lasted no longer than fifteen seconds, but it felt like hours had passed. You were very aware of the light pressure of his fingertips on your back, with only one layer of material separating your skin from his, and the nerves of feeling him so close behind you were making you walk stiffly and oddly – though, miraculously, he didn’t seem to notice.
“I don’t like how loud the music is, either,” Joel said after you two exited the main room, and he closed the door. Then he glanced at you again, his eyes flicking to your bare legs just for a second longer. “Are you cold?”
“No,” you answered truthfully. Not only was it nice to feel the cool air after sitting in a stuffy room with a crowd of people for so long, but also you still felt warm from Joel’s closeness. “I’m alright.” Joel nodded absentmindedly, and you squinted. “Did you want to talk about something or…”
“Nah, just wanted to escape for a minute.” He rubbed his beard and shrugged, but there was tightness to his body language. “Not much to do in there except for drinkin’.”
“And dancing,” you cut in.
Joel glanced at you, and the lazy smirk returned onto his features.
“You like to dance, sweet girl?” he asked, and you felt your face growing hot when you heard his tone. Low, drawling and oh, so delicious.
“If the party is good, yes, I guess so.” Then you remembered what Angie suggested earlier, and you took a shaky breath, mustering all the courage you had in you. “We… if you want, we could dance a little later, if they play something nice…?”
But the hot nerves in your chest turned to cold disappointment when Joel started to shake his head with a chuckle. “Nah, darlin’. Sorry, I don’t… I’m no dancer.”
“Noone here is,” you retorted, a bit hurt by how quick his rejection was. “It’s just for fun.”
“I know better ways to have fun than t’make an idiot of myself in front of bunch of people.”
“Like what?”
Of course, you just had to ask.
Joel smirked, as if he was just waiting for it, and took a step forward, forcing you to take one backwards. His brown eyes bored into yours, making you weak in your knees, and you promptly turned your gaze away, not able to withstand the tension in the air. With a cough, you walked up to the wooden railing, pretending that you weren’t feeling sheepish at all.
“For one, talkin’ here with you is fun enough for me.”
You forced yourself to look at Joel when you heard it, just to see if he’s joking, but the man appeared genuine. He leaned against the rails, his hand right next to your shoulder, and you couldn’t get rid of the thought of how easy it’d be for him to cage you in this spot with his strong arms, how he’d make your entire body tremble…
But you weren’t quite sure yet if he was being sweet or just tried to mess with you, so you decided that a teasing response would be the best course of action.
“I don’t know.” You shrugged lightly. “I’d still like to find someone to dance with tonight.”
At that, Joel’s hand gripped the railing tighter and his body stiffened. You had to hide a triumphant smirk on your face, pleased that you managed to throw him off his game – whatever it was that he was playing.
“One of your friends?” In your peripheral vision you saw him lifting his eyebrows with the faintest of scowls. “Or one of those shady guys sittin’ at the bar, staring at pretty girls like you? ’Cause they’re no good for you, darlin’.”
“Oh, really?” you scoffed and lifted your chin, feeling touched that Joel was acting so protective – (and maybe even… jealous?) – about what you said. “You were the one that didn’t want to dance. What do you know about what’s good for me, anyway?”
“Those guys won’t treat you right. They just want a girl to spend the night with, and you deserve better than that.”
He was right, of course, but it didn’t mean you were going to openly give him his due. You made an acknowledging noise, not really sure what to say, but Joel didn’t seem to mind. He continued in a quiet, raspy voice that sent shivers down your spine. “You deserve someone who’d take real good care of you, darlin’. Not some drunk out of their ass idiot.”
“Are you drunk, Mr Miller?” you asked, not looking at him in fear he’ll see how red his words made you, though you could still see his smirk in the corner of your eye.
“No.”
“You act like you are.”
“C’mon, sugar, look at me.” He took your chin between his fingers and your body went rigid. His warm gaze met yours for just a second, and he tilted his head forward a little. “Do I look drunk?”
“A little.” You turned your head away, but he tsked and guided your chin back.
“In the eyes, darlin’.” You gulped at his words, and his dark, brown irises twinkled in the fairy lights dangling from the roof and walls. “And call me Joel, please.”
His chest was almost touching yours, and you felt the wooden railing digging into your lower back, but at that moment you didn’t mind at all. Joel was so close, and your breath hitched in your throat when you got enveloped in his earthy smell, with a tinge of bonfire and… was that cologne? For some reason the discovery that he used cologne for tonight made your heart flutter.
But as much as you loved every second of being so close to him, you remembered that you weren’t alone on the terrace. There was a pair of people talking – well, now kissing, judging by the sound of it – and your eyes darted to the side to see if they were looking at you both. “Come on, there are people here. It’s not…”
The man clicked his tongue in disapproval and moved slightly closer, now practically pinning you against the railing with his body, and you squealed unwillingly when he, once again, made you look at him.
“Eyes on me.”
And God, if it wasn’t the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen or heard. It was unfair how much power his gaze and tone wielded over you.
“Okay,” you managed to whimper, and the corner of his mouth curled upwards, creating that adorable dimple in his cheek.
“And my name, sugar.”
You didn't know why you were complying so easily, but something about the softness and tenderness in his voice made you feel safe. He wouldn’t hurt you, of that you were absolutely sure.
“Okay, Joel.”
His thumb brushed the edge of your bottom lip with the softest of touches, making your legs almost turn to jelly. It made you want to say his name again, though in a much more needy tone.
“That’s a good girl,” Joel murmured with a smirk, never looking away.
Lord, have mercy.
You were so grateful for the wooden rails behind your back, because you were sure you’d collapse any second now if he kept looking at you like that.
“I… Joel…”
“Tell me if you’re uncomfortable,” he murmured without taking his eyes off of you for even a second. Your brain was mush at this point, but even if you could formulate any words, you doubt you’d ask him to step away. So you settled on shaking your head slightly, to which Joel nodded. “Lemme know immediately if it changes, darlin’.”
How could you be so blind? All you could think about was that Angie was right – there was no way Joel Miller wasn’t flirting with you. Maybe he even liked you. Maybe – just maybe – he wanted to kiss you just as much as you wanted to kiss him.
“Didn’t you wanna… get back to the party?”
You didn’t make any move to get away yourself, however, not wanting him to drop the arm with which he was holding your chin. The material of his shirt was bulging over the lines of his biceps, and it felt really nice to stand so close to him.
“I’m in no rush.” Joel’s voice dipped, and your insides tightened. “You?”
“No, but–”
“Here you are, you ol’ fucker!”
Joel took a step back, and you both turned to see his younger brother walking clumsily through the door with a big, drunken grin on his face. You cleared your throat, still breathless and blushed, but both Millers didn’t pay you any mind anymore.
“Tommy.” Joel’s face was like made out of stone, but his eyes were betraying how irritated he was with the interruption.
“You thought you’d manage to get away, ya old dog?” Tommy hooked an arm around his older brother’s shoulders and finally looked at you to send you a wink. “Sorry, sweetheart, gotta borrow ‘im for a second. He has a date to get to.”
It took you a couple of seconds to register that yes, you heard him right. A heavy veil of hurt and disbelief slowly fell down on you, and your eyes started to prickle as you looked from Tommy to Joel.
“A date?”
He had a date. Why then did he talk and act this way with you, making you feel like you ever had a chance with him?
“C’mon, don’t keep a lady waiting,” Tommy said to Joel instead of answering you, and tugged the other man back inside, but Joel didn’t move. “Who knows, maybe you’ll even get lucky tonight!”
That you couldn’t listen to.
Trying to hide how painful his words were to you, you ducked your head and tried to slip past the brothers, desperate to get out of here. A hand – which felt so achingly familiar now – shot out and grabbed your elbow before you could escape. You lifted your tearful eyes only to meet Joel’s sorrowful ones.
“Darlin’, wait. It’s not…”
“No, it’s okay,” you interrupted him, tearing your gaze away. “I wanted to go to the bathroom, anyway.”
Joel looked like he wanted to say something else, but you couldn’t bear being in his and Tommy’s presence any longer. You slipped out of his grasp, quickly coming back inside and navigating your way to the bathrooms.
He had a date for tonight. And still he flirted with you and touched you so lovingly, and… and almost…
Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid! To think you ever had a chance.
You dashed into the bathroom and quickly opened the first free stall you saw, then shut it behind you. There you just slumped against the wall and wrapped your arms around yourself, giving in to the flow of your tears, but trying not to make a sound.
You felt so foolish for letting yourself fall under Joel Miller’s spell, for ignoring that he obviously couldn’t be interested in someone like you.
He probably saw you as a dumb child. No wonder he’d prefer someone else, probably a woman closer to his own age.
But why did he have to be so cruel, to lead you on and hint that…
No, you realized. It was your own damn fault for letting your heart justify his every action towards you.
Almost ten minutes must’ve passed before you got a grip on yourself and decided to go find Angie. You needed to talk to someone, preferably distract yourself from the unpleasant situation you had to experience, and maybe try to salvage the evening somehow. With that in mind you took a couple of breaths, wiped your eyes and then hesitantly exited the bathroom.
You only managed to take a couple of steps, however, before your eyes were drawn to a familiar and beautiful side profile. You wished you didn’t know his face so well, because then you wouldn’t see Joel whispering something to a stunning woman you didn’t know at the far end of the room. She was hanging off his arm, bright eyes and a million-dollars smile directed solely at him. Joel appeared to be looking around, but a few seconds later he put his hand on the small of the woman’s back – just as he did earlier with you – and started walking. Neither of them looked your way before exiting through the front door and leaving the party.
As well as a gaping hole in your heart.
*****
A few minutes later you managed to find Angie. You were a mess at this point, barely able to stop yourself from sobbing. It was truly pathetic.
“I don’t know her name. But I saw them leaving, and she was hanging off his arm and–” you choked on your words and gave a humorless laugh. “God, I’m such an idiot.”
“I’m so sorry, hon.” Angie looked at you sadly. “We can ditch the party if you want. Go to my place and watch some movies,” she suggested gently, but you were already shaking your head.
“No, no. I’m fine, really, I… I think I'll just go home. But you should stay with your girlfriend.” Angie looked like she was about to protest, but you squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I promise I’m okay. I’m just gonna go straight back home and lock myself inside with a bowl of ice-cream. Or go to sleep.”
“I don’t think you should be alone right now.”
“I… I think I need to.” You gave her a weak, sad smile, and stood up. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? You have fun, I don’t want to ruin your night, too.”
“You’re not ruining anythi–”
“I mean… this. All of this stuff with,” you swallowed heavily, “him.”
Angie still seemed unconvinced, but finally nodded after a while. “Alright. But come and get me if you feel worse.”
“I promise. Love you.”
“Love you, too. Take care of yourself, okay?”
You nodded, then went towards the side exit and out into the snowy night without looking back. You didn’t want to stay here and watch as all those happy couples share sweet kisses at midnight, thus reminding you of your heartbreak.
This time you had your coat on, but it was far too thin for this kind of weather. You wrapped it tighter around yourself and hid your hands in the pockets, starting to make your way home. It was a bit far from the main square, but you needed to get away from the music and laughter of the partygoers as quickly as possible.
Alas, you only managed to walk one street away when out of nowhere, a big hand grabbed your elbow, stopping you in your tracks. “Wait.”
You turned around and took a step backwards at the same time, freeing your arm with a strong tug. The words full of anger were ready to spill out of your mouth, but that was until you saw who stood in front of you with a painful expression.
The last person you expected to see here.
“Joel?” You whispered surprisedly and looked around, but there was no one else nearby. Not that strange woman you saw him with, at least. “What are you doing here?”
“I was lookin’ for you,” he rasped between gasps, like he ran all the way here. “You weren’t at the party.”
“Why were you… What are you doing here?” you repeated more coldly, the sight of him only making your fresh heartache so much more noticeable. “I thought you left.”
“M’so sorry.” Joel’s beautiful dark eyes were full of sadness and weariness. “I would have never left you if I could help it, darlin’.”
He took half a step forward and lifted his hand slightly to graze yours with his icy-cold fingertips. You weren’t wearing any gloves either, so his touch sent a jolt up your arm. You looked down at it, but gently moved your hand away. “I don’t understand. Didn’t you have a… date?”
“No.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. You avoided his eyes and instead watched as snowflakes landed and melted in his hair. “No, it was Tommy… You saw how drunk he was, and he wanted to set me up, insisted on talking to that girl, but I…”
“You should get back to her, then,” you said dryly, really not having strength to even hide how hurtful his mere presence was. You went past him, hiding your neck in your coat. “I don’t want to keep you from–”
“Darlin’, wait.” Joel grabbed your arm again, though still gently and without any force. “Listen, she was nice, but I told her that I can’t get involved in anythin’, because I…” He faltered slightly when you looked him in the eyes, for the first time since your talk on the terrace. “There is… it’s– fuck.” He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, as if gathering courage. “There is someone else,” he finally spoke, his voice almost trembling, and looked at you again, “that I’m madly in love with. And it’s you.”
Through the open door to the party someone shouted what sounded like the time, but it was all happening in the background of your mind. All you could focus on was Joel, standing so close to you and looking almost scared as he waited for your reaction.
Cold crept up your limbs and up to your cheeks while you tried to digest what the hell you just heard, but as if held by the invisible force of his gaze, you couldn’t move an inch.
“...what?”
“I… really, really like you,” Joel whispered, his dark and sad eyes drilling into your unbelieving ones. “I went to this party just to see you, darlin’. And I’d never chose to spend the evenin’ with anyone else but you. I’m so sorry I left you like that and…”
He then gulped and very slowly lifted his hand to your face, not fully cupping your cheek but hovering just above it. He searched your eyes, but when you didn’t back away, he touched your skin carefully, and an involuntary sigh escaped you as your eyes fluttered closed.
You never thought one could be touched with such care and fondness. No one has ever treated you like that before, like you were made of the most precious glass.
“You can tell me to fuck off,” Joel whispered, and you opened your eyes to find his face a little closer than before. “I just thought that maybe… if you would maybe, too…”
He was getting flustered again, and it was the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen. It must’ve been close to midnight now, because you noticed that the music stopped and the racket inside the building was at its peak, though it was hard to distinguish the words people were shouting when your heartbeat was almost deafening in your ears.
“But I saw you leaving with that woman.” You had to make sure you were on the same page with him before you did something idiotic. Again. “You aren’t…?”
“No,” Joel breathed a quiet chuckle and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, while his eyes danced across your face. “It’s only ever been you, darlin’.”
Then he must’ve heard something – his head turned to the side to look at where the party was still going on, before his eyes returned to you, and you felt his thumb swiping your cheek in an oh, so tender manner.
“May I?” he asked in a whisper, so close that his breath skimmed your parted lips. You hoped he was asking about what you thought, but this time wasn’t brave enough to ask and clarify.
So you just nodded.
And Joel leaned in, without any hurry, and kissed you.
It was fitting, you supposed, that only a couple of seconds later the clock chimed midnight, and shrieks of laughter and cheers filled the air while the people still present at the party celebrated loudly. You couldn’t care less, however, because in that moment, your entire world was Joel. His – still cold – hand caressed your scorching cheek, and the other found its place on your hip. The smell of him, the warmth with which his body radiated, and the feeling of his lips, rougher in touch than you’ve imagined, but still soft in movement – all of it together was almost overwhelming.
You parted after a while with blissful sighs, though didn’t move away – Joel still held you close, his forehead pressed to yours, and eyes shut tightly, as if he was in pain. He took a trembling breath when you touched his jaw with your icy fingers.
“Tell me to stop,” he pleaded in a murmur, taking you aback. “Sugar, if you don’t… Please, tell me to stop.”
You shook your head and held onto him tighter before he even finished.
“Please, don’t stop.”
Your lips clashed again, tongues meeting and dancing together, and it was the closest you’ve ever felt to any type of heaven in this cruel, forsaken world. Joel pulled you flush against him and kissed you again, more forcefully this time, tangling his fingers in your hair. You let out an involuntary moan, but his mouth swallowed the sound immediately, not giving you a split second of respite.
“I wanted to do it a year ago,” Joel muttered between the kisses, before he took your face in his hands to look you in the eyes properly. He smiled, that same adorable and boyish smile, when he saw how breathless and flushed you were. “Wanted to kiss you so much, sugar, but,” he obviously fought back a laugh at this point, his eyes crinkling, “you got wasted and puked your guts out just before midnight.”
“Oh my god.” You didn’t know he saw it, particularly the moment when all the alcohol you consumed a year ago refused to stay in your stomach. “I wasn’t– I don’t usually… I got drunk ‘cause I saw Sheryll kissing you on the cheek,” you admitted with embarrassment, feeling your skin growing even hotter. “I thought you and her were together at that point…”
“But why did you get drunk because of it, sweet girl?” Joel mused, brushing his nose against yours and obviously teasing you. You snorted and shook your head.
“You know why.”
“I want to hear it from you.”
You playfully pushed him away lightly, but he tightened his grip around you, not letting you step away.
“You’re an asshole sometimes,” you whispered, making Joel chuckle. “Fine. I really wanted to kiss you, too. Happy?”
He smiled and kissed you again, softly and passionately this time, cradling your cheek in his palm.
“Very,” he whispered against your lips and dragged his nose up to plant a kiss on your forehead. “Very much, baby.”
Your heart fluttered with joy at his affectionate tone. Joel pulled away, his hands leaving your body to cover your own, situated on his jaw and arm.
“Now, what do you say we head back inside?” he asked with a disarming smile, brushing your knuckles with his thumbs. “And maybe you’ll let me ask you for a dance?”
You didn’t give an answer, but the joyous kiss you pressed to his lips – which, with your enthusiasm, almost made both of you topple over into the snow – spoke for itself.
#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal#joel miller#pedro pascal x reader#the last of us#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#the last of us fanfiction#joel tlou#joel miller fluff
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LOOK AT HIK W HIS SCARF THE JEEKIES OMG
HAN ★ STRAY KIDS 2ND WORLD TOUR "MANIAC" IN SEOUL / PHOTOBOOK SCANS
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✨ happy fic moment of 2024 ✨
thank you @roguishcat for the tag! 🫶🏻
Share an excerpt from any fic of yours that you wrote in 2024, depicting a happy / fluffy / cute moment that you're proud of.
this is from a one-shot set in early act 3. Eve came into the possession of a ring that lets the wearer change their appearance into anything they want, and she uses it to show Astarion what he looks like 🥰
Once they’re by the water, Astarion stops abruptly, then turns around and reaches for her with trembling hands. There is something odd in his expression, a mixture of pain and anticipation that Eve is not sure how to interpret. “Are you sure about this?” she asks. “Absolutely.” Eve nods hesitantly and then looks at him, really, fully looks at him, drinking in every detail of his features. The moon is especially bright tonight, painting the ends of Astarion’s curls liquid silver. She hopes to repeat this tomorrow in the sunlight, so he can see himself both ways, but this—this is perhaps her favorite sight. Willing her mind to concentrate on his image as best as she can, Eve rotates the ring and feels the magic course through her in a slow, cooling wave. Once the green light subsides, Astarion’s eyes widen, his lips parting slightly. He looks down, gaze slowly gliding up her—his—body, then focuses again on the face before him. “Gods,” he whispers. “May I?” he asks as he reaches his hand up to her. Eve nods and Astarion cups her chin gently, turning her face to one side, then the other. “Well, now I see what all the fuss is about.” He laughs nervously, his gaze scattered. “Are you alright?” she asks, noting with surprise that her voice changed along with her appearance. “Am I alright? Eve, I–” Astarion stutters, taking his hand away, eyes not leaving her face for a second. “I don’t know what to say. This is just–” he stops, eyes widening even more as a hint of something peculiar flashes across his face. Recognition. “Blue,” he mutters, barely audible. “What?” she asks softly. “My eyes,” he whispers, and Eve can see a stray tear trailing down to the crease of his smile lines. “I remember now. They were blue.” Blinking the tears away, he drops his gaze and reaches for her hand to twist the ring. As soon as the spell breaks, he draws her into a tight embrace, face buried in her hair. “Thank you,” he utters in a choked voice. “You have no idea how this– What it means– I– Thank you.” “It’s okay,” Eve whispers, caressing his slightly trembling back. They stay like that for a while, before Astarion pulls away with a soft smile, fingers wiping away the tears. “Alright, maybe do it again,” he laughs, the excitement palpable in his voice. “Oh. That was fast. Okay–” When Eve uses the ring again, Astarion really takes his time. He has her sit down and do various poses as he walks around, humming and nodding thoughtfully as if he were critiquing a sculpture, making comments like: “I should wear high-waisted breeches more often” and “I swear you could cut through leather with that jawline.” Their combined laughter carries along the river’s surface as Eve channels all of her energy into that impromptu show and indulges Astarion late into the night, letting him study every angle until he declares he’s satisfied.
the full fic is up on ao3 if you're interested ✨
no-pressure tagging: @hellethil @nerdallwritey @xxnashiraxx @khywren 💕
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This is dedicated to the absolutely beautiful hooman bean @basketobread 💕 They are truly one of the best people I've EVER met and has such a kind, wonderful heart!!! Furthermore, all of their artworks are literal ✨️MASTERPIECES✨️ They and their works are a constant source of joy for me and I just got inspired to write this very short, very simple fic of my BG3 Tav and their much beloved character Lunara meeting 🥰 It's not much, but I hope y'all like it and I hope even more that I did Lunara's amazing character justice! This is also my first time writing my Tav in a story format so it's great practice and an opportunity to flesh her out more before I post my fic of her and Astarion :)
More about my Tav here + this is the song she's singing in this story (and fun fact: I headcanon the singer to be my Tav's voiceclaim!) ❤️
Fic is under the cut and thanks sooo much for reading!! \(^o^)/
Darkness consumed the drow cleric's entire visage. A darkness that reminded her of her past in the Underdark; a waking nightmare she miraculously escaped, forging a path of her own, under the light and guidance of her Lady of Silver.
But this time, she feared that this smothering darkness would be...permanent. She could feel herself blinking, yet only blackest black and the stinging prick of her tears greeted her. She felt the ground beneath her and she doesn't think she broke any bones--or so she hopes--but she couldn't move. There was a looming heaviness in her chest and ice gripping at her heart.
Is she...dying? Eyes fluttering shut, she's resigned to her paralysis, but has not given up hope.
Because fuck that, she's most definitely not a quitter.
"M-My Lady of S-Silver..." She murmured, weak in physique but ever strong in her faith. "P-Please watch o-over me, h-help me overcome..."
She hasn't the faintest clue how long she stayed like that, strengthening herself in prayer, though eventually her ears perked up at the sound of...footsteps?
Something--or, rather, someone--sat next to her. She heard some shuffling then the soft strum of a lyre being played and a beautiful, soothing voice reverberating in her head.
"Flower, gleam and glow
Let your power shine
Make the clock reverse
Bring back what once was mine"
As the mystery songstress continued, she could feel power coursing through her veins, slowly but surely. She blinked once more and faint spots of light danced amidst the shadows.
"Heal what has been hurt
Change the Fates' design
Save what has been lost
Bring back what once was mine
What once was mine"
She felt her fingers twitching, toes wiggling; and, like a flower blossoming, she rose. She let out a sharp gasp as she sat up, chest still heavy but not as excruciating as it was before.
She's alive.
She blinked rapidly, perfect vision returning. She had hardly a moment to gather her bearings when someone's voice rang excitedly.
"Holy hells! I'm so glad you weren't, like, completely dead! Good thing I saw you just in time!"
Her gaze landed on the young woman before her. A half-drow with a smile as bright as the sun and mismatched eyes (one, she noticed, being a rather unusual blood red with a prominent scar across it). She was pretty--ahem, very pretty, might she add--but looked worse for wear. Something she was sure she looked, too.
Before either of them could say anything else, a migraine hit them both like a spiked club. They both cradled their heads in their hands, fragments of a hellish nautiloid swirling in their minds, waiting for the pain to pass and their eyes meeting in recognition.
When it finally did, the stranger piped up once more.
"Oh, wow, we're parasite pals!"
Despite the situation of it all, she laughed. A welcoming warmth radiated from the strange stranger, enveloping her and easing the tension of all of today's utter bullshit. From being kidnapped by godsdamned Mind Flayers to being infected by a disgusting parasite, she laughed and felt comforted that, at the very least, she was not alone.
"Indeed we are!" She grinned before holding her hand out. "Thank you so, so much for saving me! My name is Lunara and you are..?"
The stranger beamed, shaking Lunara's hand and her other hand making a theatrical waving gesture. "Mon'sun, at your service, fair maiden! Perhaps you've heard of me, perhaps not. The tale of my titillating life is still being written, you see~"
'Ehe. TIT-illating.' Lunara thought to herself, letting out a small chuckle before clearing her throat. She was a toootally mature adult, after all.
"Well, Mon'sun, Selûne's blessings upon you!" Lunara did a half bow, mimicking Mon'sun's theatrics which Mon'sun definitely approved of. "Besides your incredibly kind and gracious act of saving me, I'm positive my Lady of Silver led you here for a reason. What say you we band together and find a cure for this parasite?"
"Oho, asking to team up so fast? I would say take me out to dinner first, but I'm pretty easy sooo..." She joked, making a show of thinking before gasping dramatically, pretending to cry tears of joy. "Yes! A thousand times yes!"
Lunara just as dramatically placed a hand over her heart, sniffling. "Thank you! I promise to make you a happy woman!"
As they both stood up chattering and laughing away, preparing for the thrill of adventure ahead, Lunara noticed she was missing her coin pouch.
"Have you seen my coin pouch? I could've sworn I had it tied tightly around my waist, so there's no way it could've fallen off after the nautiloid crash." Lunara questioned as her purple eyes darted around their surroundings, ash and smoke rising from all the debris.
"Perhaps it burned away from the flames of the crash." Mon'sun replied smoothly, helping Lunara seek for her humble riches.
(Pssst, Mon'sun is lying and has Lunara's pouch in her pack, but she rolled a Nat 20 on ✨️deception✨️ sooo...)
"Well, nevermind then!" Lunara shrugged, smiling. "I'm sure our Lady of Silver will grant us great blessings for our journey. In fact, she has already bestowed upon me a most wonderful blessing in the form of a kind, trustworthy new friend!"
Narrator: *As the two drow kin embark on their perilous quest to free themselves of their parasites, a haunting voice echoes deep within the recesses of Mon'sun's mind; her own parasite. One of a different, godly breed taunting her--tormenting her.*
"Do you wish to find comfort in the presence of another inferior god, spiderling?" Lolth cackled, cruel music flooding Mon'sun's ears, vicious mockery only she can hear. "Such foolishness will only bring about disappointment...much like your new companion. But I am here, spiderling. Always watching. It is only a matter of TIME for you to bathe in her blood."
Mon'sun abruptly stopped in her tracks, shutting her eyes tight, nails digging into the palms of her hands that nearly drew blood as she willed the spider goddess to not so kindly fuck off. She was used to this by now, the lure of Lolth's appalling temptations always merciless, sickening, and...gratifying.
But no. She will never ever give in. Absolutely fucking NOT!
"Are you alright, Mon'sun?"
Mon'sun's eyes snapped open, sweat beading down her temple and wide, frantic eyes landing on Lunara, a few feet in front of her staring at her in concern.
"...I forgot!" A beat too late, a beat too nervous. But thankfully, Lunara didn't seem to notice it, only watching in curiousity as Mon'sun rummaged through her pack that was literally ripping off the seams.
Mon'sun then procured a small purple pouch, smiling sheepishly as she handed it to Lunara.
"Apologies, friend. I stole picked this up earlier and just remembered it now. This must be yours, yes?"
Lunara caught Mon'sun completely off guard when she launched herself at the other girl, wrapping her arms around Mon'sun.
"Oh, our Lady of Silver truly blesses me! Thank you, friend, your kindness knows no bounds!" Lunara giggled.
Mon'sun was still for a few moments before returning the embrace, laying her head against Lunara's chest. Her bardic ear listened close, the faint thrum of Lunara's heartbeat--as lovely as its owner--lulling her to a wonderful sense of security.
No matter how temporary.
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nah he’s real for calling you a bitch nat 😞 like HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!
(i actually loved it like holy shit i’m gonna eat this up)
I owe you a kiss Pt.3
Pairing: Minchan x femReader
Word Count: 2420
Summary: Whilst Minho and you grow closer his relationship to Chan is strained, suffering from all the responsibility he has to carry for the group. You want nothing more than your boys to work things out..
Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, soft!min, mention of blood
A/N: I already know you guys will hate me, but I promise there'll be more in a week🥺🖤
PART TWO
Two months later
You giggle softly as Minho pulls you into his arms and sways you through the kitchen. A sappy love song starts playing in the background. He pulls you in as close as he can, humming along to the tune, and rests his head against yours. You know, he had a long day, organizing their group's schedules and deciding what would happen now and what would wait until Chan was back. You let him take the lead and feel him relax, his breathing calming against your chest. Minho turns his head a little, planting soft kisses on your cheek, and you can feel him smile. “I love you, honey,” he whispers.
“I love you too, darling,” you whisper right back and turn to look at him. Your breath hitches at how soft and in love he looks. “I’m proud of you.”
“Hm?” he hums in confusion, still swaying softly.
“I know how hard it is to manage everything without Channie at the company. It’s not what you signed up for,” you tell him gently.
“He’s my husband, I’ve signed up for it the minute I let him love me,” he smiles tiredly.
“I know, but never alone before,” you remind him gently. “You’re doing great, darling. Chan and I are very proud of you.”
He smiles gently and brushes his nose against yours. “Thank you, baby.” His phone rings, and you can instantly see the stress flooding his face. It's a little worrying to see him dripping with the same exhaustion you only knew from Chan so far. You gently ease it from his pocket and smile, showing him the screen. “Oh,” he smirks and gives you an apologetic smile before taking the call. “Hi, Channie love,” he says, giving you a kiss and quickly going upstairs. You watch him with a soft smile, glad Chan has called at this very moment. The three of you worked out a rhythm with calling quite quickly; one day Minho, one day you, one day the two of you. This allowed you all to keep your personal relationship with Chan, as well as your marriage, intact.
“Hi, kitten,” Chan says sweetly.
Minho throws himself onto the bed with a soft grunt and stares at the ceiling. “How are you? Had a nice day?”
“Yeah, Hannah and I are about to go for a drive, she said she knows a nice place for dinner,” Chan tells him and shuffles through his old bedroom, searching for his sweater. “I'm good, actually.”
“That’s nice,” Minho smiles and turns to his side, trying to keep his eyes open. He realizes too late that he's been silent for too long.
It’s quiet for a moment before Chan speaks up again. “How are you holding up?” he asks gently. “I hope the kids are supporting you well?”
“Don’t worry,” he chuckles. “Felix is hovering, Hannie and Changbin are busier than ever, Innie and Seungmin are getting on my nerves as much as they can, and Hyunjin took over most of my work with new dances.”
“Crazy as always then,” Chan giggles, and Minho’s heart hurts at the so dearly missed sound.
“When are you coming back?” he asks quietly after a moment and bites his lower lip hard. Dumbass. “I don’t want to stress you, just wanna know.”
Chan is quiet for a while after that, and Minho closes his eyes, growing frustrated as tears well up in them. “I-I don’t know, Min,” he confesses.
“Mhm, okay,” is all he manages to say, trying not to start crying right here on the spot. He misses him so much that it’s getting a little too much lately.
“You’re mad.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are,” Chan huffs.
“I said I’m not,” Minho insists.
“Stop lying,” Chan tells him, sharper than he had intended to. “You’re pissed you have to work double while I’m having fun out here.”
“I’m not…Channie,” Minho says firmly and sits up. “I’m too tired for this bullshit, seriously.”
“Mhm, okay, fine then,” Chan grumbles. “Sorry for calling.”
“Chan,” Minho snaps. “I was asking because I fucking miss you,” he bursts out.
“If you miss me so much, you could just visit, you know,” Chan says, not really knowing why he’s so pissed either.
“I can’t just disappear right now and leave them all hanging,” Minho argues weakly. “We're already behind.”
“If you’re so busy then what’s the point in me visiting, huh?” Chan asks sourly.
“Visiting? Is that what we’re calling home now? Is that all your husband and wife are now? A visit?” he snaps, tears finally falling down his cheeks. “Seriously, Chan?” he asks, voice cracking.
“Okay, you have five seconds to calm the fuck down, or I’m ending this call,” Chan says calmly. “I don’t know when I’ll come back, Minho, because honestly, I don’t feel like it right now. And if that is all that’s waiting for me, then I don’t know if I want to.”
Minho hangs up on him and sits still for a moment before throwing his phone onto the floor forcefully. He hears the screen cracking and winces softly but doesn’t bother to pick it back up.
You race up the stairs and rip the door open, blinking at him, confused. “What was that?” you ask, speaking of the loud thump his phone made.
“My phone,” he says, and you glance down at it lying on the floor.
“What’s wrong?” you ask worriedly, spotting the tears in his eyes.
“Nothing,” he snaps at you. “Your husband is an asshole, that’s all!”
“Which one?” you ask calmly and raise your eyebrows at him.
He takes a deep breath, reminding himself that you're not his enemy. “Both,” he says sourly. “But your Australian one in particular.”
You chuckle softly and make your way over, stopping in front of the edge of the bed. You soothingly run your hand through his hair and watch him thoughtfully. “He's not coming back yet, is he?”
“No,” Minho whispers and stubbornly stares at the mattress. “I know I was the one saying he should go, but-it's too much.”
“What is?” you ask patiently, wanting him to voice his thoughts.
“Y/nnie,” he sighs softly. “Not now, please. Now I just wanna be pissed and sulk a little.”
You hum gently and brush back his hair. “Need some time alone?”
“Yeah,” he nods and flashes you an apologetic smile. You both know he'll get rid of his frustration more quickly if you don't see how shitty he feels.
“That's okay,” you tell him and cup his face, kissing his forehead. “I'm taking you out for dinner tonight, yeah? Just us two at that place downtown you love.”
“Okay,” he smiles weakly and squeezes your hips for a brief moment before letting go of you. He watches you leave before falling back onto the mattress. Staring up at the ceiling, he thinks back to their conversation, and his throat tightens up painfully. Tears burn in his eyes, and he curses at himself quietly. “Stop being so fucking dramatic,” he tells himself and blinks them away.
You glance up from your spot on the sofa as Minho comes downstairs only minutes later. “That was fast?”
“I won't ruin our date night,” Minho announces as he makes his way over. He stops in front of you and timidly tugs at his sleeve. “Also, I need a hug.”
Your smile softens, and you gently pat the space next to you. A surprised giggle leaves your lips as Minho places himself in your lap instead, burying his face in your shoulder. You soothingly rub his back and hug him tight, gently rocking him in your arms. “I love you, Minnie.”
“I love you too,” he says softly.
“And Channie does as well, yeah?” you ask, and your heart drops as Minho doesn't answer. You gently pull him back, spotting tears in his eyes. “Oh, darling, that bad?”
Minho shakes his head and lowers his gaze. “I'm tired as hell. That only makes it worse.”
“Wanna tell me what happened?” you ask gently, and Minho gives in and tells you about his argument with Chan.
“I know I was overreacting, but he pissed me off,” Minho sighs as he's done.
“You were a little. But so was he,” you chuckle.
“You're married to two idiots, I'm sorry,” Minho chuckles weakly and sighs. “Okay, come on.”
“We don't have to go if you're not feeling up for it,” you assure him. “We can order in, watch a movie or something.”
“No, if my beautiful wife wants to go out for a date, that's what she gets,” he shakes his head and smiles at you sweetly. You blush a little, which gives him the opportunity to kiss you fiercely. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you smile.
-
Minho's gentle fingers brush against your skin as he laces up your dress in the back. As he's done, his eyes meet yours in the mirror, and they instantly soften, as they always do. His hands find your hips, and he leans down, pressing a small kiss on your shoulder. “You're so beautiful.”
You blush softly and chuckle at yourself for still getting flustered after all those years. “Min,” you say sweetly.
“Don't even try to deny it,” your husband giggles and pulls you against his body. “I love you so much, never forget that, yeah?”
“How could I?” you ask, amused, and cover his hands with yours. “You're unforgettable Min, in every way,” you say and turn in his arms to face him. “My sweet Minho.”
A beautiful smile tugs at his lips, bunny teeth showing as he gives in to the feeling. It travels to his eyes, makes them sparkle so prettily, and you can't help but mirror his smile. He gently caresses your cheek and pulls you into a soft, loving, tender kiss. “My beloved Y/nnie,” he whispers against your lips.
-
Not much later, you're at the restaurant and Minho seems to cheer up, chewing happily on his food. You giggle at him fondly. “You're so cute.”
He looks almost offended and quickly swallows. “Ey, I have a reputation.”
“Forget it,” you snort. “Everyone who could see you like that would agree with me.”
“Stay always agrees with you when you write those stupid little captions,” he snorts and takes the next bite, doing a little happy wiggle in his seat. His eyes widen as he catches himself doing so, and you start laughing. “Oh fuck off,” he laughs.
You giggle adoringly, and the two of you exchange a soft smile. “You're pretty.”
“Will you stop now?” he asks softly, slowly blushing.
“Never. You're too cute,” you tease him.
“Do I have to remind you again why we have two chopsticks and two eyes?” he threatens you jokingly.
“No, thank you,” you laugh and glance down as your phone pings with a message. Channie.
Minho notices you hesitating for a moment. “Go on,” he urges you gently.
Channie angel❣️: Hey there, my beautiful baby, hope you're doing alright. Don't tell Minnie, but I'll be back for his birthday in two weeks. I love you so so much and can't wait to see you again!🌹🖤
You: Oh, that's exciting!!! I won't tell him a word, promise❤️
You:…but you should text him, Channie angel, he's hurt🥺💔
Channie angel❣️: I'll call him as soon as I'm back at my parents’ place. Enjoy your night out, baby🖤
Channie angel❣️: Tell him I love him.
You look up from your phone and swallow softly, seeing Minho glancing at his broken screen timidly. “Darling?”
“Yeah?” he asks and puts on a warm smile for you.
“Chan says he loves you,” you tell him, and Minho's smile falters a little in surprise. “He wants to call later.”
“Okay,” he nods gently. “Thank you.”
“You'll be okay?” you ask him worriedly and reach for his hand across the table.
“Always,” he promises and brings up your hand to his lips, kissing it. “He can act stupid all he wants, I have you right here tonight.”
You chuckle, amused, and squeeze his hand. “Don't give up on him, yeah? I know it's not easy at the moment…but he still loves you.”
“I know,” Minho assures you gently.
“You two are at your best when you're working together,” you tell him and search his eyes. “He loves you, no matter what.”
Minho nods gently, not wanting to get emotional out here in public. “Thank you for tonight.”
“Any time,” you smile at him softly. “Let's go home, cuddle?”
Minho's face breaks into a beautiful, soft smile, and you study his features as if you'd want to engrave this picture in your brain forever. “Let's go home,” he nods.
-
Chan barely steps into his room as his phone rings with Minho's signature tune. He frowns softly, wondering why he was calling him now when he told him he would. Chan takes the call and braces himself. “Hey, Minho.”
“Channie,” Minho sobs into the phone and Chan's throat tightens at the broken sound.
“Baby?” he asks worriedly.
“I'm sorry, I fucked up. Fucked up so bad,” Minho rambles through tears, pacing the bathroom. “I swear I didn't mean to.”
Chan frowns softly, and he stops in front of his bed. “Minho, it's okay, it wasn't that bad, hm? It was just a small fight.” he tries softly, and a high-pitched sound leaves Minho's lips. Minho sinks to the floor, breathing heavily, and pulls his legs up to his chest as his shock takes over. Chan picks up on it and sits down at the edge of his bed. “Can we switch to a video call?” What the hell?
“O-Okay,” Minho sobs and accepts the call.
Chan's heart drops to his stomach as he sees him. Tears stream down his face, and he looks terrified. Truly terrified. There's blood on his shirt, there's blood on the hand he uses to try and wipe away his tears. “Minho, fuck, where are you?”
“Hospital” is all he gets out.
“Why, what…Minho, where's Y/N?” he asks, his stomach tightening in fear at the pained sound that leaves Minho when your name is mentioned. “Min?”
Minho's breathing picks up, and he clutches the fabric of his pants tightly, trying to steady himself. “Someone crashed into our car, I-I swear it wasn't my fault. T-The airbag didn't open a-and-,” he breaks off with a sob. “Channie, there was so much blood,” he whimpers.
“Where's Y/nnie?” he asks, barely audible, blank fear taking over him.
PART TWO
MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES
Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)
@atinyniki @kailee08 @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaasia111 @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @malfoygalaxies @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland
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⭐🎄Celebrating Yule 🎄⭐
Hello darlings 🥰,
As December ushers in its wintry charm, let's dive into the magical world of Yule, the Winter Solstice celebration, a time of rebirth and renewal in the Pagan calendar. ✨❄️
Yule, celebrated on the shortest day of the year, marks the return of the sun and the promise of brighter days ahead. In 2023, Yule, also known as the Winter Solstice, falls on Thursday, December 21st. This day marks the shortest day and the longest night of the year in the Northern Hemisphere, symbolizing the rebirth of the sun and the beginning of winter. Here's how you can embrace this enchanting season:
Ingredients:
🌲 Evergreen branches (Pine, Fir, or Cedar)
❄️ Snowflakes or snowflake decorations
🕯️ White, Gold, or Silver candles
🔔 Bells
🍊 Oranges or orange slices
🌰 Nuts and berries
Ritual:
🌟 Create a Yule Altar: Decorate your altar with evergreen branches, candles, and symbols of the sun. It's a beautiful way to honor the returning light.
🌟 Light Candles: As you light white, gold, or silver candles, reflect on the past year and set intentions for the new cycle.
🌟 Make Yule Decorations: Craft snowflakes, hang bells, and dry orange slices. These activities are not only fun but imbue your space with festive energy.
🌟 Hold a Feast: Celebrate with a meal featuring nuts, berries, and seasonal fruits. Sharing food is a way to connect with loved ones and the earth's bounty.
🌟 Reflect and Release: Write down what you wish to let go of from the past year and what you hope to bring forth. Burn the paper safely in your candle flame as a symbolic release.
🌟 Connect with Nature: Take a walk in the woods, listen to the silence of winter, and feel the magic of the earth.
Yule is a time for inner reflection, peace, and joy. Embrace its magic, and let the light fill your heart and home.
____
🌞 If you enjoy my posts, please consider donating to my energies 🌞
✨🔮 Request a Tarot Reading Here 🔮✨
____
With love, from a Sappy Witch 🔮💕
Blessed be. 🕊✨
#blessed yule#Yule#yuletide#WinterSolstice#PaganCelebration#Witchcraft#Magic#december#snow#Rituals#winter magic#SeasonalMagic#FestiveSeason#PaganWitch#witchy vibes#mine#witchblr#sappywitch#baby witch tip#sappywitchcoven#witch#green witch#witchythings#baby witch#blessed be
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ദ്ദി(。•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊ send these stars 🌟✨💫 to your favorite blogs and remind them how bright they are! ெ♡༚
mwwwwa !! love you ash 🫶
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🎶 for Roman Roy? ✨😌✨💕 Love your writing!! 🥰
Thank you so much sweetie!! I'm loving all the requests for Roman at the moment :P
Kiss Me / Roman Roy Imagine
Line: 'Silver moon's sparkling / So kiss me'
Writers block is kicking my ass today but I wanted to get this out anyway! Please let me know if you liked it :)
(I do not own Succession or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @ushershiv. Song credit goes to Sixpence None The Richer!)
Warning: strong language and mentions of child abuse!
☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°
Roman Roy nearly scared the shit out of you as you wandered up the moonlit side streets of the Tuscan town.
Shiv, of course, had left you to fend for yourself in unknown territory by storming out from the hen party before it had even reached ten o'clock, scowling as she impassively kissed her mother's cheeks and went straight back to scrolling through her phone as she became a blot in the distance. You had spent the last half an hour wandering around, peering around the edges of sun-kissed cafes and staring quizzically at dust stained cobbled streets that wound round balconies and down staircases you were sure you'd already been down.
So when you nearly tripped over Roman sitting, looking forlorn, at the bottom of one, you were more than delighted to jump out of your skin.
'Romy, oh thank fuck! My sense of direction was dogshit in America, and it sure as hell seems to be worse in Italy.' You laugh and place a hand to your heart, trying to calm its throbbing as you perch on the bottom of the stone railing. Roman sets down his beer by his feet and stands up, turning his head behind him languidly and trying his best to smile at you. You could tell immediately that something had gone wrong while you were out with Shiv: you knew your childhood best friend too long not to be hyperaware of his idiosyncrasies. His smile didn't reach his eyes, but to Roman, it was a relief: he had found you.
It had only taken his own half an hour of quizzing his sister on the phone and wandering around the Tuscan side-passages - but he had found you. Just as he had throughout his whole childhood; no matter if Roman was climbing up the pipe outside your bedroom window and peering his little goblin head eagerly over the edge of your windowpane when you were teenagers, or him screaming and crying, searching the house for you when he was just a toddler confused about why his daddy wanted to hurt him so much, he always sought you out.
It had infuriated him at first, just because he didn't understand why his heart felt such pangs of weakness. But as Remy grew, he started to relax into it, until he couldn’t remember a time when he was just him, instead of you as well.
And by god, if he wasn't going to ever let you out of his sight again.
His own heart begins to pound like an unbroken slap against the side of his ear as he gives you a once over, his eyes lazily tracing your figure, but plainly lovelorn. 'Well, yeah, thanks for fucking - trying and testing that dumbass doesn't change depending on the continent.' His eye sparkles against the graceful hue of dreaming grey as he smirks, pressing his tongue against the back of his teeth to try and choke back the words he's spent his life so desperately trying to claw out.
'Fuck off', you reply, but you're beaming as you say it. Reaching out, you run a hand over his collar and do your best to try and straighten it out. Roman swallows harshly as he feels your knuckles brush as light as a lover's kiss against the pulse point on his neck. The touch is one of familiarity, of intimacy, of an intimate knowledge, of a ritual done over and over and over since you were children. One always reaches out, an olive's branch, a desperate cry, and the other stays stoic in a fear that over the years has been beaten into them.
He wasn't allowed this. He didn't deserve this. Roman Roy wasn't allowed love. Not unless it was callous, and course, and being shoved like poison down his throat by the fisted hand of his father, or being struck across his cheek with a chide for being a naughty puppy.
'So', you start with a furrowed brow and a tremble to your fingers, noticing the way Roman's eyes have begun to cloud a little under the thin sheen of starlight. He only blinks again, guiding his gaze back up to look at you expectantly as you continue. 'What's been going on with you tonight?' You pat his shirt, right between the top button and the start of his chest, not expecting him to sigh languidly at the touch. 'Nothing good, from the looks of it. You finally realising mommy's being taken off the marriage market for good?'
'Oh fuck you' he half-scoffs, but he doesn't move away, too desperate in his attempt to keep your palm as flatly and near to his heart as he can. He chews his bottom lip, trying to figure out in the dank recesses of his mind about how to tell you that you're the only person whose ever held it - the only person he's ever felt comfortable with, the only person he's ever fantasised about kissing, loving, spending every moment of his disgusting life with.
His voice cracks as he continues. 'It's fine. I'm fine, fuck, I just- uh, fuckity fuck me, it's just everything, you know? Like, this deal is looking pretty fucked, and it's like my love child so daddy dearest expects me to be on top of it, and-'. Roman's words die away on the tip of his tongue as he notices how eagerly you're watching him, anticipating every word and looking genuinely heartbroken as they tumble out.
He doesn't know how to process it: someone caring about what he has to say.
'And you know what', he whispers. 'It doesn't actually matter.' He reaches up and takes your hand - grasps it tightly and holds it between his lungs as he breathes you in. 'I don't fucking care, about any of it. That doesn't fucking matter to me.'
The ethereal shine of moon rays blink down sleepily from the clouds, and seem to bathe Roman in a light so innocent, and so dreamlike, that you can't help but latch onto his every syllable as being pure truth. His smile falters, and he shakes his head as he looks down at his feet, playing with the sides of your fingers between his own stout ones.
He never could bear to look at rejection head on. Usually he got by, solely because he could turn and look at one of his siblings instead, and pretend, for a moment, that they actually cared. But on his own? He didn't know how to handle it. So he shirks into himself, flaring his nostrils and trying to hide the tide of overwhelming dread that suffuses over his body and turns his neck a sheepish, splotchy crimson.
'Remy, where's this coming from? You've always wanted to be under daddy's heel-'
You're broken off by the sound of Roman's dress shoe stepping forward and the feel of something... strange? Against your lips? You try to take a step back, but an arm winds its way around your waist, as light as a feather but with a bark harsh enough to keep the bottom of your feet on the ground. It takes you a further moment to understand that the pressure that left, and then seemed to return with twice fold the intensity to your mouth, was Roman's itching, scared lips doing their best to caress your own. He's bleary eyed when he finally dares to open them, and it breaks your heart to see how vulnerable, how child like he looks in his fear. As you kiss him again, you didn't mind the tears that slide down his cheeks, a mixture of sadness and new joy mingling. He shakes his head slightly at the way he moans wishfully, latching onto you like a tired puppy as he follows your lips with his shivering body.
To the poor Tuscan locals, the two of you must have looked quite the state: two people, so obviously head over heels in love, kissing each other as if they'd never be granted another chance. As if this final pocket of happiness might tumble away once they wake up back into the real world. As if being so in love might be the destruction of them both.
#succession#succession imagine#roman roy#roman roy imagine#roman roy x reader#roman roy fluff#roman roy angst#shiv roy#succession fanfic#succession fanfiction#roman succession#x reader#Cee's 8000 followers celebration
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DRABBLE TIME :D
🫂 💕(forehead plss) 🤝🏽 ✊🏽 🥰 💪🏽
(Okay fineee u got me yes I just wanna read some DAMN GOOD HEARTWARMING FLUFF so I can cry over my singleness)
(Also I hope it's okay for me to request that this be a bucky x y/n (f) fic 👉🏽👈🏽 but if not pls feel free to write it about characters of ur choice!! I'll read whatever you write regardless of who it's about 🥰)
a/n: Thanks for the ask :) Here's 800 word of being in stupid love with Bucky Barnes. Angst and fluff and lots of snuggles. Title from "Moon River" <3
28 Ways Masterlist
"dream maker, heart breaker"
When God made Bucky, he must have wanted it to hurt.
Looking at him for too long is like moon-gazing through a high-powered telescope. You don’t expect it to be painful when the light hits your eye because you forget how much light there actually is.
Most nights, it’s a silver dollar, hanging isolated and beautiful that from where you stand, its visible scarring— aftermaths of a distant past, blurred by the stretch of space— doesn’t seem real.
As in, you forget there’s so much to see.
You forget there’s an entire other side tucked behind its back that observers only manage to glimpse if they’re lucky and are briefly offered just an auspicious quiver.
You think there’s so much moon in him.
Ancient history in the rise and fall of his topography: the delicate shifts of his skin and bones; the hot red blood that ran and how much of it erupted during the epochs of his life. How it must have flowed like seawater as he shivered alone in a silent, frozen landscape.
His many faces: his alert, cunning eyes, steely and knife-sharp; his cheeks, rounded and high with color, when he laughs and it surprises everyone. When humor catches him off-guard and there’s a quick bark of joy slipping out before the back of his hand hides it again.
What wondering minds conceive when they make stories of him: a wild animal, a traveler in the shade of a tree, a disgraced exile, a divinity.
He carries it all with supernatural grace. The weight of his entire being locked into a sequence he never signed up for. Only existing as a casualty of collision, a long line of coincidences that travelled and travelled until they made impact, that shattered and burst and finally returned to life metallic.
And yet, so bright.
It’s approaching dawn now and he’s a splinter of a thing in your bed.
Curled up into the sheets, hair a wild mane of auburn where early sunlight favors it. His side profile pressed into your pillow, rolled carelessly over until he was pushing you toward the border.
You couldn’t see him then but heard him murmuring and felt him shaking as he chased blindly. Just the faintest whimpers for attention as his fingers reached out, his powerful body folded as if in utero.
And it was a silly thing that broke your heart, despite how full your heart is these days with love for him.
He’s still tangled up in a dream, movement beneath his eyelids giving him away. His fingers twitching, one leg slotted beneath your own beginning to flex and bend.
You snuggle closer to him, turn until you can clutch him to your chest, rubbing his silver shoulder—up and down the red star that seems to constantly burn him alive.
His brow furrows, tormented with agony. His hand clenches into a boulder behind your back. His speech is slurred and Russian, rattling numbers and compliance and you’ve learned enough to dissect the vocabulary, can parse out his desperate pleas of sir-ready-missioncomplete-missionreport-itdoesnothurt-Iwillobey-Iamnothing-Iamaweapon-Iamyourdog—
He makes a curtailed noise. A quick, high whine like a pained animal, so you let him seek out your body heat, let him burrow into your neck and cling to your waist as his teeth chatter.
And there’s not much more can do when he falls apart like that. Nothing you can say or assure or shout out as much as you want to in order to wake him. He won’t—he never wakes. He only continues to cross the memory, dragged routinely across the deep sky until morning. Sometimes it goes on for hours. Sometimes it goes on all night.
But now the sun is ascending, chasing away the dark, tucking his fears back into the other side of the world and Bucky calms with it, crying tamped down to only a few sniffles.
You brush away the wet hair that has stuck to his cheeks and forehead, wipe his brow and press your lips to him, tasting tears and sweat.
You do it again, another kiss to his forehead, and again, leaving your own mark, impacts of softness, and love, and everything he needed and couldn’t receive for so long.
“Sorry,” he stirs, “woke you up—” but you shush him with a kiss to his nose, then one to his chin.
“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, shy and embarrassed, but you’ll have none of it, especially when he doesn’t pull away, only leans in to receive more because he wants it as much as he’s needed it and you’ll give him everything, every night.
Your exiled divinity. Your bright, bright boy. Your moon and his many faces.
You kiss all of them again—and again, and again, and again.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x you#marvel#mcu#reader insert#fanfiction
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Summary: Malleus wishes Silver a Happy Birthday.
Time has always moved differently for the fae. It was a concept he always struggled with.
And yet, time seemed to have slowed down yet quickened in a way that Malleus was never used to after meeting a silver-haired baby.
Malleus can’t exactly recall when this phenomenon started.
Maybe it was the day Lilia flung the baby at him? When he looked at the crying bundle and hummed his mother’s lullaby?
He knew time moved steadily from that moment on, flowing through his fingertips in a way he had not noticed before.
That baby grew, and his weight increased.
The baby continues to grow along with the amount of saliva and other liquids that soaked Malleus. The seamstresses would faint if they ever knew what transpired on his clothes.
Eventually, Silver spoke words and greeted him with a smile as bright as the sun.
Time passed.
Silver learned magic. The pride in his eyes the first time he manifested it had Malleus feeling the same.
Malleus remembers the time he taught Silver and Lilia to dance. Swirls of magic danced on his fingertips as he played a tune and instructed them. Oh how fun that was.
Time continues to slip by.
Malleus remembers the days he would watch Silver and Sebek train.
The day he chose them as his knights. The looks on their faces made it worth it-another way to keep them close by always.
Malleus recalls, before blot and magic took control and emotions unfolded, how silver hair and determined eyes preached against such dreams and their wrongness, how no one wanted it, least of all him and Lilia.
Malleus sees these same eyes.
So bright and pure.
Colors changing like the facets of jewels.
Malleus remembers these eyes, the eyes of the babe, who dared to cry in his arms. The one who cried to him out on a snowy day, feeling as useless as he.
Malleus smiles, bringing a hand up to those very eyes.
Wiping crystal-like tears away as he used to do to the babe, consoling him as he had done not so long ago.
Breathe.
Just a bit more.
A splash of red on white leaves him aching, he hadn’t meant to tar such purity.
Tears continue to flow despite his efforts, from these very eyes.
Holding him tightly, speaking to him. Desperately.
More expressive than Malleus had seen him be in a while.
Ah.
Malleus wishes he could hear him.
But the clawing darkness prevents it.
So Malleus smiles, proud as ever of the one before him; using what strength he has left to speak words he desperately wants to say.
My Light that guided me through the darkness.
My Loyal Knight.
Thank you for saving me.
“Happy 18th Birthday, Silver.”
Darkness.
Happy Birthday, Silver 💚💕🌷
I love you🥰🌺
#*3am Hana smiles at you*#malleus draconia#diasomnia#twst silver#silver vanrouge#twst malleus draconia#disney twst#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland silver#twst scenarios#twst drabbles#twst#twst angst#twst malleus#twst book 7#disney twisted wonderland#twst platonic
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snow — for the single-word drive!
I was finally able to get snippets for this prompt! Thank you so much for it!
In fact, one of them is for a yet-to-be-introduced OC.... A sneak-peek, if you will. Hehehe...
Without further ado, my belated scene snippets! \(^-^)/💕
Tsukia:
A delicate snowflake drifted down to rest on the caramel square she had just pulled from the pouch in her pocket, leaving Tsukia frozen for a moment. She stared at the beautiful construct of ice, taking in what details she could before it melted under the heat of her breath. Giving a wistful smile, she carefully ate the candy, gazing up at the dark snow-laden clouds overhead. She needed to move on before it was too late. Otherwise, she would be stuck in the midst of a blizzard and even less likely to find any signs. Though there already did not seem to be many. But even one gave her hope. With a gentle whistle, a white unicorn walked out of the drifts, shaking flakes of snow from her light blue mane. Reaching out, Tsukia obligingly brushed away those that had collected upon the unicorn mare’s long lashes. “Let us go, Rina. Before it grows ever colder here.”
And our mysterious one...:
As a figure dressed in crimson and onyx stepped from behind the shelter of the rocky cliff, the blizzard winds hit them full force, tugging at the midnight cloak around the figure’s shoulders. A small dark grey and white bird fluffed out its feathers with a soft rustle, the Silver Dasher nestling deeper into the black and red hair it had perched in. A pair of striking silver eyes gave an indulgent roll, a faint smile lifting a corner of the woman’s mouth. She raised her hood, patting it down gently atop the bird and giving her pointed ears a respite from the chill. Blinking snowflakes from her lashes, she strode forth, following a path amidst the endless drifts.
I hope you enjoyed these! And thank you for the amazingly fitting prompt! 🥰💕💕💕
#ffxiv#ffxiv oc#au ra#ffxiv elezen#ffxiv au ra#elezen#ffxiv writing#ffxiv fanfiction#story snippet#writing prompt
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I really wanna dye my hair but I need to find someone who will understand the goal would be like a balayage or high/low lights and NOT covering all my greys (some of them sure) bc I love my silver hair
and I LOVE LOVE LOVE when ladies who are old enough to be my mom come up to me in the work breakroom and tell me they love my grey and wish they were confident enough to go with their natural hair color too and I tell them they should and they'll look AMAZING 😭😭🥰😭💕
You see how my hair starts to do the thing at the very front where it's ALL WHITE almost??
I CANT DYE THAT, THAT'S AMAZING!!
But idk how to explain to a stylist what I want exactly, or how to find one who respects The Vision TM
I don't mind dying all the rest of it, and kinda want to put in more color elsewhere, maybe even more red/pink tint or even a warm chocolate but I want my face framing white streaks!! Those are natural!!!!
...does anyone have experience with how to find a good hair person for dying purposes? Can I keep my signature and still get color elsewhere? Idk if I should just start asking local FB groups or what. The vibe is definitely "please don't cover ALL of my greys. That is my LOOK."
#im only 31 but ive been getting greys since i was 11 lol#its genetics baybee#...seriously i think this is the only thing where im like ah yes.... Mexican hair genes..... bahaha#actually i think its just a common latino thing bc look at oscar Isaac lmao#we go silver fox early in exchange for more skin elasticity
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For the fic meme: 🌟, 🎨, 📚?
That first one is not on the list so I'm using my amatuer detective skillz to infer that you meant the sparkle one ✨
✨️ Out of the comments you’ve received on your fics, what are two or three of your favorites?
Well, THIS one is my all time favorite:
aND YOU CAN PROBABLY SEE WHY LMAO. It's beautifully long, it takes me on reader's commentary throughout most of the fic itself, and watching my dear reader slowly descend into the madness that has already stolen me is always always fun :D But I think about this one in particular a lot because they GOT it, you know? They got the exact vibes I was going for, they understood the intricate relationships between the characters—basically they read it exactly how I wrote it to be read. And yes many other people have likely done that but this one TOLD me about it (*˘︶˘*).。*♡〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜
Another one of my favorites is this one:
Again, because it's long and thoughtful, and because it's from one of my friends whom I admire and value deeply 🥰
And last but CERTAINLY not least is this one :3
Because this one is ALSO from one of my friends that I respect and admire deeply, and because I enjoy making them go absolutely insane 💕 Mwahaha yesss go feral >:3
I adore every comment I receive, these are just the ones I hold the closest :3
🎨 If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?
Ooo another hard one! Hmm. The imagery that I put in Notre Dame would be beautiful, I think, because I wrote it to be that way lol. But the dark magic symbolism of Tomura and Izuku's wedding in Nickel and Silver is also near and dear to my heart. Nickel and Silver has two, actually, because the scene where they're arguing in the river is one I think has the potential to be really pretty as well!! Though the scene in Cosmic Entities where Light and Matsuda are in the elevator has the potential to be very fun too >:3
But tbh the scene on my brain right now that I would ABSOLUTELY commission someone for if I had the money to spare is one that I haven't even posted yet 😭 AFOFA ballroom dance scene my beloved 🙏
📚 Is there a fanfic or fanfic writer you recommend?
*cracks knuckles* GET READY FOR THIS.
It depends on what fandoms you're into, but for BNHA authors I recommend surveycorpsjean, terryh, lukewarmbeefstew, RayShippouUchiha, katydid, Space_Cryptid, Gentrychild, whatagoodegg, cassieopia721, and I WOULD also recc mrjengablock but she's recently taken all her BNHA stuff down due to an AI scare 🥲
Yes all of these authors are WILDLY different but these are the people I enjoy reading the most ^^ For fic reccs I'm gonna go with Candor by OwlF45, Awakening by Zyla_Sweetbean, Why Are We Here Again? by cloud_nine_and_three_quarters, Play for Keeps by supercrunch, and A Difference of Perspective by town_without_a_heart 💕
For Death Note authors I'm reccing ASmallMoon333, TrashKing, sharptoothed, tsukinousagi, sn0w_quill, neallo, foreskinsmoothie, Min Daae, and TzviaAriella ✨
Again, a lot of different topics and styles here but I enjoy all of them immensely :3 Some good fics I like are vertigo by crimesofhallowed, louder than bells by relic_crown, metempsychosis by palant1r, Behind the Lens by arcadevia, and likely many more I'm currently forgetting :'D
Harry Potter authors I'd recommend are ObsidianPen, Nekositting, Cybrid, and asterisms!
Danny Phantom authors I'd recommend are GothMoth, thevillainofthisstory, EctoplasmicSoda, GhostMalone, and passionateartist. For fics I'm reccing Flight of Defiance!
Marvel authors I'd recommend are ladylapislazuli, tuesday, feyrelay, doctorestranged, Orcusnox, SpiderKatana, and LearnedFoot. Reccing Frostbite by writer168, and The Third Option by Uncertainty_Principal for those who can handle angst :3
Aaaand I'm gonna stop there because if I list everything and everyone that I like we'll be here all day 😅
#asks#ask game#anonymous#writers ask game#fic recs#author recs#i had to pare down those lists IMMENSELY you have no idea#i decided to just go with the people i'm subscribed to and/or have multiple of their fics saved. and even then. :')
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