#part of the purpose of this is to learn how to drawn more interesting kisses that aren't just flat-on side views

[ilmhist]

2025 is the year i embrace "be cringe be free" so i'm kicking that off by doing sketchy studies of old kiss paintings. but with blorbo prompt list | day 1 reference

[herstoryheaven]

Descendants Evie x Reader: Charming Lies, True Hearts

Prompt: Evie x fem!reader enemies to lovers? maybe they���re roommates at auradon prep and they just really can’t stand eachother but there’s lowkey a lot of tension there and they end up kissing??? idk I’m just a sucker for enemies to lovers and also evie so.

Reader: Female

Word count: 4417

Average reading time: 16 min 5 sec

Category: Hurt/Comfort 

Warnings: None

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Disclaimer: All events portrayed in my stories are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental. Any actions or behaviours portrayed by the characters may differ from reality and cannot be connected to any actual person. This work is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only.

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Auradon Prep was supposed to be perfect, but Y/n Charming had learned long ago that even fairy tales had their share of complications. The picturesque towers, the neatly trimmed gardens, and the glittering gowns were all a part of her everyday life. As the daughter of Prince Charming and Cinderella, she had grown up surrounded by the ideals of chivalry and grace, but nothing in her upbringing had prepared her for the chaos that came with the four new transfer students from the Isle of the Lost.

Y/n stood by the grand entrance of Auradon Prep, together with her twin brother Chad, and watched as Mal, Evie, Jay, and Carlos stepped out of the limousine. Chad, as usual, was preoccupied with his reflection in a hand mirror, checking that every blond strand was perfectly in place. Y/n rolled her eyes. ‘Of course, he was more interested in his hair than the newcomers. Typical Chad.’

But Y/n’s attention was immediately drawn to Evie, the blue-haired daughter of the Evil Queen, who stepped out right after Mal, with an air of regal confidence that almost rivaled her own. Evie’s deep blue hair framed her face perfectly, and her lips were painted a bold red that made her look both enchanting and mysterious. Y/n’s heart skipped a beat, a reaction that she instantly dismissed as annoyance. ‘She will be just like her mother, obsessed with finding a prince and crown.’

“Welcome to Auradon Prep!” Ben’s voice rang out as he greeted the Isle kids with a warm smile. The Prince of Auradon was as princely as they came, handsome, kind, and idealistic. Y/n respected him, but she couldn’t help feeling skeptical about this entire experiment. Bringing villains’ children into Auradon? What was he thinking?

As introductions were made, Y/n noticed Evie’s gaze lingering on Chad. She didn’t miss the way Evie’s smile widened as her eyes raked over her twin brother, who was still engrossed in his mirror. ‘Of course, she’d set her sights on Chad, prince Charming. How predictable.’

Y/n’s lips pressed into a thin line as the knot of annoyance in her stomach tightened. ‘Doesn’t she have any sense, any selfrespect? My brother? Really?’

-----

The day went on with the usual bustle of new students settling in, and Y/n soon found herself in her dormitory, unpacking some new dresses her mother had sent her from the royal palace. The room was her space to hide when the royal life became a bit too much to handle, a space she had cherished for its isolation. But that was before she learned that she would no longer have it to herself.

“Y/n.” Ben called out as he entered her room. Y/n looked up, already dreading the words that would follow.

“Hi, Ben. What’s up?” she asked, trying to sound cheerful despite the sinking feeling in her chest.

“I need to talk to you about your rooming situation.” he started, his tone apologetic. “We’re a bit short on space with the new arrivals, and I was hoping you wouldn’t mind sharing your room with Mal and Evie.”

Y/n’s jaw tightened, but she forced a smile. “Of course. I understand.”

“Great! I knew I could count on you.” Ben said, clearly relieved. “They should be here any minute to settle in.”

The door barely closed behind him when Mal and Evie walked in, Evie’s luggage trailing behind her like a royal entourage. Y/n immediately noticed that Evie had already put on her most charming smile, the one that had undoubtedly been used to manipulate countless others. Mal, on the other hand, exuded a quiet confidence, her eyes scanning the room with a calculating sharpness that made Y/n’s skin prickle. This wasn’t just any ordinary duo—they were the daughters of some of the most infamous villains in history, and their presence was impossible to ignore.

“Hi, roomie!” Evie chirped, her voice sweet enough to rot teeth. “I hope we’ll get along just splendidly.”

Y/n turned away to hide her grimace. “Yeah, sure. Just keep your stuff on your side, and we’ll be fine.”

Mal’s eyes flickered between the two girls, sensing the tension almost immediately. She leaned casually against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest as if she were settling in to watch a show. “Nice place.” she commented, her voice dripping with amusement. “It’s almost as cozy as a dungeon.”

Evie’s eyes scanned the room, settling on Chad’s portrait hanging by Y/n’s bedside. “Oh, that’s a lovely picture of Chad.” she mused, stepping closer to get a better look. “He really is as handsome as the stories say.”

Y/n’s hands balled into fists. ‘Oh, for the love of—does she ever stop?’ “You know, there’s more to Auradon than just chasing after princes.” Y/n said, trying to keep her voice even, but the edge in her tone was unmistakable.

Evie turned to face her, a small smirk playing on her lips. “Who says I’m just chasing after princes? But if I were, who could blame me? He’s perfection.”

Mal raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by the exchange. “Perfection, huh? I didn’t think perfection was your type, Evie.”

Evie shrugged, her smile never faltering. “It’s not about perfection, Mal. It’s about potential.”

The casual way Evie dismissed the gravity of the situation only fueled Y/n’s anger. The thought of this girl, this daughter of a villain, trying to sink her claws into Chad, was infuriating. ‘How can she not see how ridiculous she’s being?’

“You might want to reconsider,” Y/n said, her voice sharper than she intended. “Chad isn’t as Charming as you might think he is. He is a first-class manipulator, using girls for his own benefit.”

The words were out before Y/n could stop them, and the room fell into a stunned silence. Evie’s eyes widened, her expression unreadable as she processed Y/n’s outburst. For a moment, Y/n regretted saying anything, but the thought of Evie pursuing Chad had clouded her judgment.

Mal let out a low whistle, her eyes flicking between Evie and Y/n with newfound interest. “Well, this just got interesting.”

Evie finally spoke, her voice calm but laced with an undercurrent of something darker. “You know, Y/n, it’s funny how you seem to know so much about Chad’s flaws. Almost like you’ve had some personal experience with them.”

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat, her mind racing to formulate a response. She hadn’t expected Evie to turn the tables so quickly. But this was no time to back down. She took a deep breath, steadying herself before she spoke.

“That’s because Chad is my twin brother.” Y/n said, her voice firm. “That’s how I know exactly what he’s like. I’ve seen it all firsthand, every sweet word, every charming smile, every single time he’s played someone to get what he wants. And trust me, Evie, you don’t want to be the next one to get her heart broken by prince charming.”

The room fell into a thick, tense silence as Evie processed this new information. Her smirk faltered for just a moment, her eyes narrowing as she reassessed Y/n. Mal, too, seemed caught off guard, her cocky grin slipping as she regarded Y/n with a new level of respect or perhaps wariness.

Evie’s smile returned, but it was colder this time, devoid of the warmth it had feigned earlier. “We’ll see, won’t we?” she said, her voice dangerously sweet. “Maybe I’ll surprise you.”

Mal pushed off the wall, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “This is going to be so much fun,” she said, her tone laced with dark excitement.

-----

The days following the confrontation in Y/n's dorm room were tense and filled with a thick atmosphere of unspoken rivalry. Evie had become more determined than ever to prove Y/n wrong, throwing herself into her pursuit of Chad with an intensity that made Y/n’s stomach churn. Mal, ever the instigator, watched the unfolding drama with an amused smirk, offering her support to Evie in ways that only fueled the flames.

Evie’s efforts didn’t go unnoticed. Chad, with his easy smile and princely charm, seemed to take to Evie’s attention like a moth to a flame. He invited her to study sessions, complimented her on her designs, and even started seeking her out during free periods. To anyone looking in from the outside, it might have seemed like the perfect fairy tale. Evie, the beautiful, talented daughter of the Evil Queen, winning the heart of Auradon’s golden boy.

But Y/n knew better.

She saw the way Chad’s eyes glazed over when Evie gushed about her latest fashion project. She noticed how he barely touched the homemade lunches Evie lavished upon him, and how he only truly seemed interested when the conversation turned to something he could gain from. The longer it went on, the more Y/n’s heart ached for Evie, despite their rocky start. Evie, for all her faults, genuinely believed she was getting what her mother had always told her. A prince, a crown, a future, validation of her worth. But Chad wasn’t interested in any of that. He was interested in one thing only: what Evie could do for him.

One afternoon, Y/n found herself in the library, trying to focus on her own homework when she overheard a familiar voice.

“Evie, you’re such a lifesaver,” Chad said, his tone dripping with feigned gratitude. “I don’t know how I’d get through all this without you.”

Y/n peeked around the corner of a bookshelf to see Chad leaning casually against a table, his signature smirk plastered on his face. Evie sat across from him, her face glowing with pride as she handed him a neatly organized stack of papers.

“Oh, it’s no problem at all,” Evie replied, her voice full of warmth. “I’m happy to help.”

Chad glanced over the papers, not even pretending to read them. “You’re amazing,” he said, flashing her a grin that Y/n had seen countless times before. It was the same grin that had melted hearts all over Auradon, and the same grin he used to get what he wanted. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

Evie blushed, ducking her head shyly. “You don’t have to say that, Chad.”

“No, I mean it,” Chad insisted, leaning in closer. “You’ve been incredible, Evie. I’m so glad we’re spending more time together.”

Y/n’s stomach turned as she watched the scene unfold. She could see the hope in Evie’s eyes, the belief that she was finally getting the prince she’d always dreamed of. But Y/n also saw the way Chad’s smile never reached his eyes, the way he pocketed the papers with a careless flick of his wrist before turning his attention back to his phone, clearly more interested in the latest social media update than in Evie.

It was sickening.

Chad played his part well, though. Over the next few weeks, he continued to reel Evie in with sweet words and hollow compliments, always careful to keep her hooked just enough to ensure she’d do his homework, help him study for tests, and provide a steady stream of the answers and resources he needed to maintain his grades.

But as much as it pained Y/n to see, she couldn’t interfere, not yet. She needed Evie to see Chad for who he really was, to realize that her so-called “prince” was nothing more than a shallow manipulator who saw her as a means to an end.

The opportunity came sooner than she expected.

It was a Friday afternoon, and Y/n had just finished her last class when she noticed Evie sitting alone in one of the courtyard gazebos, her usually vibrant expression clouded with worry. Y/n hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to approach her. The memory of their tense exchange in their dorm still lingered, but something about the way Evie sat there, her shoulders hunched and her fingers twisting nervously in her lap, convinced Y/n to act.

“Evie.” Y/n said softly as she approached, careful not to startle her.

Evie looked up, surprise flashing in her eyes before she quickly masked it with a forced smile. “Oh, hey, Y/n. What’s up?”

Y/n sat down next to her, the words heavy on her tongue. “I saw you with Chad earlier.” she began, trying to keep her voice gentle. “You seemed… happy.”

Evie’s smile faltered. “Yeah, well… Chad’s been really nice to me lately. He even said he might take me to the next royal ball.”

Y/n felt a pang in her chest, knowing exactly where this was heading. “Evie, I—”

“I know what you’re going to say.” Evie interrupted, her voice suddenly defensive. “You’re going to tell me I’m being used. That Chad doesn’t care about me. But you’re wrong, Y/n. You don’t know him like I do.”

“Evie, I do know him.” Y/n said firmly, her voice tinged with urgency. “He’s my brother. I’ve seen him do this before, he pretends to care just enough to get what he wants, but he never really does. You’re smarter than this, Evie. You have to see that.”

For a moment, Evie didn’t respond. She stared down at her hands, her expression conflicted. Y/n could see the war waging in her mind, the struggle between wanting to believe in the fairy tale and facing the harsh reality.

Finally, Evie spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “He told me he loves me, Y/n. That I’m different from all the other girls.”

Y/n’s heart broke a little at the vulnerability in Evie’s voice. “That’s what he always says.” she said softly. “He knows exactly what to say to make someone feel special. But, Evie… he’s using you. I’ve heard him bragging to his friends about how easy it is to get you to do his homework. He doesn’t care about you, he cares about what you can do for him.”

Evie’s eyes welled up with tears, her lip trembling as she tried to keep her composure. “But… I thought…”

Y/n reached out, placing a hand on Evie’s arm. “You deserve better than this, Evie. You’re talented, smart, and kind. Don’t let him make you feel like you need to prove your worth by doing his work. You don’t need Chad or any prince to validate you.”

For a long moment, Evie sat in silence, her emotions swirling in her eyes. Y/n could see the realization dawning on her, the painful truth sinking in. Finally, Evie let out a shaky breath, wiping away the tears that had begun to spill down her cheeks.

“I just wanted to make my mom proud.” Evie admitted, her voice breaking. “She always told me I needed to find a prince… that it was the only way to prove I was worth something.”

Y/n squeezed her arm gently. “Your worth isn’t defined by some prince, Evie. You’re amazing all on your own. You are so smart and look at how far you’ve come since you got here. You even are about to launch your own clothing brand. And you did all of it without a prince, just being you is enough Evie.”

Evie looked at Y/n, a mix of gratitude and sorrow in her eyes. “Thank you, Y/n.” she whispered, her voice filled with sincerity. “I’m sorry for… everything.”

Y/n gave her a small, reassuring smile. “It’s okay. We’ve all made mistakes. The important thing is what you do next.”

Evie nodded, determination slowly replacing the sadness in her expression. “You’re right. I’m not going to let him use me anymore.”

-----

The atmosphere between Y/n and Evie shifted in the days following their heartfelt conversation in the courtyard. A tentative truce had formed, replacing the tension that once defined their interactions. But there was something more, something unspoken lingering between them, a connection that neither of them had expected.

Evie had kept her word. She distanced herself from Chad, focusing instead on her own studies and projects. Y/n noticed the change immediately, how Evie seemed more at ease, more confident in her own skin. It was as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, allowing her true self to shine through.

The first time Y/n caught Evie looking at her, really looking at her, she felt her heart skip a beat. Evie’s gaze was intense, filled with something deeper than the casual glances they’d exchanged before. Y/n tried to dismiss it, telling herself it was nothing, but the flutter in her chest betrayed her.

One evening, as they sat in their dorm room, Evie working on a new dress design and Y/n pretending to study, the tension between them grew impossible to ignore. The silence was comfortable, but there was an electric undercurrent that neither could deny.

Evie was the first to break it. She set down her sketchpad and turned to Y/n, her blue eyes shimmering with a mixture of determination and something softer, something that made Y/n’s breath catch.

“Y/n,” Evie began, her voice gentle yet firm. “I’ve been thinking a lot… about everything that’s happened. About us.”

Y/n looked up from her textbook, her heart suddenly pounding. “Us?”

Evie smiled, a soft, almost shy smile that Y/n hadn’t seen before. “Yes, us. You’ve been so kind to me, even when I didn’t deserve it. You made me realize that I don’t need to chase after some prince to find my worth. And… I’ve realized something else, too.”

Y/n swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “What’s that?”

Evie leaned in closer, her gaze never leaving Y/n’s. “I don’t want a prince. I never did, not really. What I want… what I’ve wanted all along… is someone who sees me for who I am, someone who challenges me, who makes me want to be better. Someone who’s not afraid to call me out when I’m being ridiculous, but who also believes in me, even when I don’t believe in myself.”

Y/n felt her pulse quicken as Evie’s words sank in. There was no mistaking the intent behind them, the way Evie’s eyes flicked to her lips before meeting her gaze again. “Evie, I…”

Evie didn’t let her finish. With a boldness that took Y/n’s breath away, she closed the distance between them, her lips brushing against Y/n’s in a kiss that was soft, tentative, but filled with so much emotion that it made Y/n’s head spin.

For a moment, Y/n was too stunned to react. But then she melted into the kiss, her hands instinctively reaching up to cup Evie’s face. The kiss deepened, and Y/n felt a warmth spread through her chest, a sensation that was both exhilarating and terrifying in its intensity.

When they finally broke apart, both girls were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other’s. Evie’s eyes sparkled with mischief, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I told you I can get what I want and what I want is this incredible good looking, kind hearted, brave princess charming.” she murmured, her voice filled with playful confidence.

Y/n let out a shaky laugh, her heart swelling with something she hadn’t fully realized until this moment. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Evie grinned, a teasing glint in her eyes. “You love it.”

And Y/n couldn’t deny it. She did love it, loved the way Evie made her feel, loved the way their banter had transformed into something deeper, something that made her heart race and her thoughts scatter. “Maybe I do.” she admitted, her voice soft.

Evie’s smile softened, her hand gently caressing Y/n’s cheek. “Goo.,” she whispered. “Because I’m falling for you, Y/n. And I want to see where this goes, if you’re willing.”

Y/n’s heart soared at Evie’s confession. She didn’t have to think twice. “I’m willing.” she replied, her voice steady and sure.

-----

A view days into their blossoming relationship, Evie approached Y/n with a sparkle in her eye and an air of excitement that immediately caught Y/n’s attention. They were sitting together in the dorm room, enjoying a quiet afternoon when Evie suddenly hopped off her bed, rummaging through her closet with a grin.

“What are you up to?” Y/n asked, curious but already feeling a flutter of anticipation.

Evie glanced back at her, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Well, since we have our first official date tonight, I wanted to surprise you with something special.”

Y/n tilted her head, intrigued. “A surprise?”

Evie nodded, pulling out a garment bag and laying it carefully on her bed. “I’ve been working on something, and I think you’ll like it.”

With a teasing smile, Evie unzipped the bag to reveal a stunning dress, the likes of which Y/n had never seen before. The fabric was a soft, light shade of blue that shimmered faintly in the light, with delicate silver embroidery tracing intricate patterns along the bodice. The design was elegant yet simple, with a fitted waist and a flowing skirt that promised to swirl gracefully with every movement.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at the dress, her heart skipping a beat. “Evie… did you make this?”

Evie’s smile widened, a mixture of pride and nervousness in her expression. “I did. I wanted to make something just for you, something that would make you feel as special as you make me feel.”

Y/n was speechless for a moment, overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness behind the gesture. She reached out to touch the fabric, marveling at its softness. “It’s beautiful, Evie. I don’t even know what to say.”

Evie stepped closer, her eyes twinkling with affection. “Say you’ll wear it tonight. I want to see you in it.”

Y/n looked up at her, a warm blush spreading across her cheeks. “Of course I will,” she said softly, unable to hide the emotion in her voice. “Thank you.”

Evie beamed, her excitement contagious. “Perfect! Now, let’s get you dressed. I want everything to be just right.”

Y/n laughed, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement as Evie led her to the mirror. With gentle hands, Evie helped Y/n into the dress, carefully smoothing the fabric and adjusting the straps. As Y/n looked at herself in the mirror, she barely recognized the person staring back at her. The dress fit her perfectly, accentuating her figure in all the right places, and the color brought out the warmth in her eyes.

“You look stunning,” Evie whispered, her voice filled with awe as she stood behind Y/n, her hands resting on her shoulders. Their eyes met in the mirror, and Y/n felt her heart swell with love for the girl standing beside her.

“Evie, I… I don’t know what to say,” Y/n murmured. “This is the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Evie’s expression softened, her hands sliding down to rest on Y/n’s waist. She leaned in, pressing a tender kiss behind Y/n’s ear, her lips lingering there for a moment. “You don’t have to say anything,” Evie whispered against her skin, her voice gentle and reassuring. “Just let me spoil you a little tonight, okay?”

Y/n smiled, turning around, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Evie’s lips. “I’m already spoiled just by being with you.”

Evie blushed at the compliment, but there was a glint of playful determination in her eyes as she stepped back, giving Y/n one last look-over. “Well, tonight is about making sure you feel as amazing as you are.”

Just then, the door to the dorm room swung open with a confident flourish, and Mal strolled in with a smirk that conveyed both satisfaction and a touch of amusement. “Looks like I’m just in time,” Mal said, her eyes dancing with a knowing glint. “You two look adorable. Is it date night already?”

Evie turned, her face lighting up with a mixture of surprise and annoyance. “Mal! We were just about to head out. Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something here?”

Mal’s smirk widened as she leaned casually against the doorframe. “Oh, I can see that. And it’s about time you two made things official. Enjoy your evening; it looks like it’s going to be a memorable one.”

Y/n and Evie exchanged a glance, both laughing softly at Mal’s timing. With a final glance and a reassuring squeeze of Y/n’s hand, Evie led her toward the door. Mal watched them leave, her smirk giving way to a genuine smile as she admired the love and joy radiating from the couple.

Y/n found herself walking through the gardens of Auradon Prep, the night air cool against her skin, but the warmth of Evie’s hand in hers keeping her heart racing. Evie had arranged for a private picnic beneath the stars, complete with twinkling fairy lights and a spread of all their favorite foods. The setting was magical, straight out of a fairy tale, and Y/n couldn’t help but marvel at the lengths Evie had gone to make the evening perfect.

As they settled on the blanket, surrounded by soft pillows and the gentle glow of the lights, Y/n couldn’t take her eyes off Evie. She looked radiant, her own dress a deep shade of sapphire blue that complimented beautifully with Y/n’s light blue. They sat close, their fingers intertwined, and Y/n felt a wave of gratitude wash over her, grateful for this moment, for this girl who had changed everything.

“You’ve really outdone yourself.” Y/n said softly, her voice filled with affection. “This is the most romantic thing I’ve ever experienced.”

Evie smiled, leaning in closer. “I wanted it to be special, just like you.” She paused, her eyes glinting with a playful edge. “And I told you Y/n, I always get what I want.”

Y/n chuckled, remembering their first meeting and the way Evie had exuded confidence even then. “And what do you want, Evie?”

Evie’s gaze softened, her thumb gently brushing over Y/n’s knuckles. “My very own princess charming” she said simply, her voice filled with sincerity. “I want you, Y/n. And I’m going to make sure you never forget how much you mean to me.”

Y/n’s breath hitched at the words, a smile tugging at her lips. “You’ve already done that,” she whispered, leaning in to close the distance between them. Their lips met in a kiss that was slow and tender, filled with all the emotions they’d been carrying.

As the night went on, they talked, laughed, and shared stories under the stars, wrapped up in each other and the magic of the moment. It was the beginning of something beautiful, something neither of them had expected but both were eager to explore.

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Requested by: Anonymous

[animehideout]

omg i adore your mbti series it’s so much fun, i was just wondering if i could request enfp?

Your MBTI, Your Relationship With JJK Characters Part 5

ENFP + ESFJ

Thank you Anon, @strawberrybuni , @shathanku and @chososwhoresblog for requesting ENFP. Also thank you @suchasecretiveninja for being interested in this MBTI series I really really hope you like these and that you are satisfied with the characters 🫶🏻✨💌

Currently working on the other MBTIs and oneshots requests, sorry if I'm taking too long <33

Divider credit: @cafekitsune your work is amazing *Chef kiss* 💖

ENFP:

Yuji Itadori = First and only love.

Full of enthusiasm both of you. Instantly drawn to each other like a magnet, since you share many personality traits. Your adventurous and curious nature has brought you two together. Finding joy in each other's company while embracing new experiences and challenges, both within your relationship and beyond. You're your own number 1 cheerleader. You want to start a new career? learn a new language? Yuji will be right there beside you, offering support till you reach your dreams. As an ENFP, you tend to feel jealous and anxious over the smallest things but with Yuji all your worries fade away. Hr constantly reassures you and express his love to you. Plus, he is incredibly loyal and sees you as his whole world. ENFPs get bored easily and crave constant amusement, luckily with Yuji's playful and humorous nature you won't be feeling any boredom. He effortlessly brings joy into every moment, making it his daily routine to crack jokes and find humor in any situation because he loves to see you happy and loves listening to your laugh. ENFPs are quite affectionate and needy, fortunately, you've got Yuji as your boyfriend, because he's so good at combining all love languages to satisfy your needs and make you feel loved. You have a childish and dramatic side that only Yuji can handle. At the same time you are very mature, so Yuji loves how you can be both depending in the situation. As an ENFP you naturally bring the best out if Yuji, so he works hard ti become stronger for you. Both of you are rays of sunshine and at the same time sunshine protectors. You would be 100% safe around him, and no one is allowed to hurt you.

Gojo Satoru = Frenemies.

ENFP and Gojo are friends but with tension. Gojo is an ENTP, he relies on the power of mind and analytical mindset, while ENFP tends to be more compassionate and emotionally driven. Gojo might tease you a lot and starts debating with you out of the blue. He would try to force his ideas claiming that they are more accurate and effective than yours because your ideas are idealistic but not logical. This clash of approaches may cause tension between you two. Also while making decisions, Gojo might try to assert dominance and make his own personal decisions work, overshadowing yours. And as an ENFP, you hate reinforced rules, opinions etc.. that may restrict you or prohibit you from using your intuition. Gojo tends to be very critical of people around him, and criticism stresses ENFPs out. He sometimes does that on purpose to annoy you since your type gets easily angry. Despite this tension, you managed to become friends. Both of you are chaotic, and your relationship is dynamic and full of energy. You and Satoru have have mutual traits like your shared passion for exploring possibilities, understanding theories even though each one of you have completely opposite perspectives. But your love for knowledge brought you together. Also both ENFP and Gojo are very affectionate and like skinship and closeness. So playfights and playful skinship is a common occurence between you two. He turns off his infinity on purpose so you can playfully slap his arm or throw a pillow his way. You'd be enjoying time together, laughing and being the loud extroverts you are and then in a split if a second, you start bickering leaving everyone around you confused. You perfectly portray a love hate relationship.

Yuta Okkotsu = Colleague.

I feel like despite ENFPs being an extrovert, they still can blend and get along better with introverts. ENFPs take emotions into consideration and with Yuta being a shy person, I think he'd work comfortably with you without being paranoid about being judged or misunderstood. ENFP type has an outgoing and expressive nature, Yuta is quiet and calm, so this would create a balance. You might also help him get out of his comfort zone without making him feel pressured or awkward, you'd create a supportive environment, free of judgment. While his thoughtful approach inspires you to reflect more deeply on certain matters. ENFPs are known for their empathy, so you'd respect Yuta's need for solitude and quiet moment while at the same time he tries to be more socially engaged for you. Yuta appreciates your understanding and considerate nature, even Rika gets along with you for treating Yuta right.

Miwa Kasumi = Bestfriend.

The friendship between you and Miwa is warm and filled with positive energy. The two of you value empathy and compassion. You are sweet and down to earth. Your nature made it easy for you to quickly bond with each other in no time, since both of you fostered a deep understanding and acceptance of one another. Your friendship is characterized by a strong emotional connection, where feelings and vulnerability are cherished, creating a safe space. You influence each other positively to channel and promote your kindness to the people around you. You also support each other through thick and thin. You have a healthy bond with less to no conflicts at all.

ESFJ:

Nanami Kento = Husband.

Despite you being an extrovert and Nanami an introvert, you unexpectedly made a good couple. Nanami's type is a responsible, trusting and organized partner, and ESFJ meet his preferences. Nanami is a wise man, so he would bring balance into you relationship. ESFJs are known for their warmth and sweet nature sibthisywould serve as a factor to help Nanami loosen up a bit and lower his guards in your presence so he can feel your comfort, express his feelings more freely and learn how to reassure you regularly since as an ESFJ you're sometimes needy and clingy, also he would learn how to help you when you struggle with self doubt and low self esteem. The F in ESFJ stands for feeling, so you depend more on emotional approach while Nanami more on analytical approach, so together you can strike communicational balance. As an ESFJ, you managed to break through Nanami's tough exterior, revealing his soft side, that he started ti show only in front of you. The two of you have shared values in terms of love, you and Nanami are loyal and committed to a long lasting relationship that eventually was crowned with marriage. Marriage strengthened your bond even more, making you deeply understand and align with one another. Also accept your difference and bring the best out of every challenging situation; always trying to create a positive outcome of arguments and turn mistakes into lessons that you'd learn from. Your relationship is well rounded and harmonious, you appreciate each other's strengths and peacefully live with the differences.

Ino Takuma = Interested in you.

You two have a dynamic and engaging relationship with a wholesome chemistry that led Ino to develop feelings for you. Both of you are extroverts with golden retriever vibes, you enjoy social interaction which made it easy for Ino to get to know you in a personal level, since ESFJ tend to share things about them with others, and to his luck you lived up to his expectations. He relies on feelings as well so he would feel the emotional connection with you making him willing to satisfy your needs. ESFJ is kinda similar to Ino's MBTI which is ESFP which results in a mutual interests. Both of you can relate to each other in certain situations, discovering a huge compatibility. Ino would be the one to fall hard for you. ESFJ has got a charming side that no one can neglect. ESFJ tends to be talkative as well and Ino enjoys listening to you rambling about random things. Ino's MBTI tends to jump to conclusions, so he might misunderstand your generous and empathetic side and think that you reciprocate his feelings. Overall, if you don't end up dating you would be good friends but if he chooses to go to ghost you in order to move on you would find it difficulty since ESFJs find it hard to move on from a breakup even if it's just a casual friendship.

Mahito = Ex-partner.

ESFJs trust people easily, with Mahito being manipulative he would find it easy to feed you with his lies and convince you that he is a good partner to make you fall for him and get you wrapped around his finger. But as every other lie, it gets revealed. Your values differ from Mahito's. ESFJs prioritize and take care of their loved ones and also value stability and loyalty, but Mahito prioritizes his goals and ambitions and isn't faithful. He is known for using people for his own needs and interests and that would be the case with you, you'd be one of his victims, which leads to you breaking up. You simply have a desire for structure and routine to ensure the stability for your relationship but Mahito feels restricted and can't serve as a good partner who would at least try. He's all talk but no action which is contrary to ESFJs.

Remember this piece of writing is for entertainment purposes only, also it is imo so it's not necessarily accurate 🫶🏻🥹

[lottiesnotebook]

For the Rook storytime prompts-- have you done #17 yet? (Also I hope you feel better soon!! 💕)

Thank you so much for the prompt! It has predictably cheered me up enough to stop feeling sorry for myself and write again (and also to do some very cursory research because Cara's main hobby is not something I've ever done!)

From Rook Storytime Prompts (previously 6, 15, 18) - Rook teaching someone else a skill (inspired by this) (I haven't written Lucanis before, so wish me luck! Also this turned out mildly angstier than I'd planned but that is what happens every time.)

"Come on, don't you trust me?" Cara gazed up at Lucanis with pleading amber eyes, which was an interesting perspective from which to see her, given that she usually towered at least a head above him. Now, however, she stood on the deck of a fragile-looking skiff, and he stood on the pier, which had seemed the strategically safer position until she'd turned that gaze upon him.

Mierda, but she was impossible to refuse when she looked at him (or anyone else) like that, and unfortunately, she knew it.

"It is not you I distrust, querida, so much as the vessel you have chosen."

The waves off the coast of Rivain caused the deck to heave and tilt with every movement, for all Cara's claims that it was 'perfect weather for sailing'.

It had been perfect weather the last time too, when the Venatori had brought his ship down and dragged him into their vaulted halls beneath the waves.

"The Justice?" She raised a brow. "She's solid, I promise you. Way less flimsy than those gondolas you Trevisons love so much."

"Gondolas are fit for their purpose, and a canal is not an ocean."

"Neither is the Rialto Bay." She took his hand in hers, running her thumb across his knuckles in a way that should not make a trained assassin blush. "Come on, darling, I thought you wanted to see me sail."

He had said that, he recalled, in the warm embrace of the Lighthouse's kitchen, Cara looking down at him with the firelight caught in her eyes, her restless, reckless energy for once dissipated and content to sit at his side. She'd been talking, soft and dreamy, about how she'd learned to sail as a girl, and it had captured some romantic part of his imagination - the salt sea-wind caught in her dark hair, her strong arms winding ropes and hauling sails, Cara in her element as she so seldom seemed in these uncertain, desperate times.

He had not, in the moment, drawn a line between her love of the sea and his own most recent sea voyage, a line his mind was drawing all too clearly now. How easy it would be for an enemy mage to snatch up such a vessel in an unfavourable wind or crush it with some great wave. Bad enough to risk himself in such a way, but Rook?

No! Spite snapped, from over his shoulder. Nobody takes our Rook! No sea, no god, no Venatori!

His hand twitched with Spite's desire to seize her wrist and haul her back onto solid ground.

"I did. I do," he corrected. There were few situations in which he would not want to see whatever Cara Hawke-Laidir had to show him. "Just... perhaps from a more steady vantage point than the deck will allow."

Her eyes glittered with mischief, "You're not scared, are you?"

"Never scared!" Spite retorted, through his mouth, and threw them both aboard before Lucanis could stop them. The deck, predictably, pitched and rolled beneath their feet, and Lucanis, ill-prepared for the leap Spite had thrown them into, would have stumbled if not for her grip on his hand.

"Of course you're not," she retorted, with an eyeroll, pressing a careless kiss to their cheek, and a second for Lucanis, with scrupulous fairness, then, with rare softness: "but it's alright if you are. The sea is a harsh and unstabbable mistress, even to those of us who didn't spend a few years beneath her waves."

He swallowed, feeling suddenly exposed beneath her honey-bright gaze. "I am not- such a thing is unbefitting a Crow."

"Of course," she agreed, lightly, "but if a- if anyone happened to be a little scared, I wouldn't force them aboard. Unless they were into that," she added, with a malicious grin that made Spite cheer and Lucanis flustered. "I just- thought it might help. You'll probably have to travel by ship again eventually, and this way you'll be- safe. You know I wouldn't let anything happen to you, right?"

"I know." He had little faith in anything these days, but for the girl with golden eyes who'd dragged him from the Ossuary and told him he was still alive. He forced a smile, tried to match her bright, teasing tone: "But what if my fear is for you? I've seen enough of you in Treviso to know you cannot swim."

She batted her eyelashes at him. "Then it's just as well you're here to rescue me, right?"

"Always."

She grinned at him. "So, we'll start with the raising the sail..."

She was as lovely as he'd imagined with the sea wind in her hair and the sun gilding her skin, and the taste of salt on her lips was almost enough to make him forget the horrors the ocean held in her depths.

[firebloodanddragons]

The Midnight Relief - Part 3 (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) NSFW

Summary: A knight of the King's Guard comes look for you in the middle of the night. Aemond is back from Storm's End and he requests your presence but nothing has prepared you for what you will find in his rooms.

Tags: SMUT, Porn with Plot (sort of), Vaginal Sex, Soft Aemond, Bottom Aemond, Breeding kink, Targcest (Reader is Daemon Targaryen’s bastard), Angst, Insecurity and Vulnerability, Mention of Underage Prostitution, Death, violence and murder.

Author’s Notes: I hoped you’ll enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. As I worked on this chapter, I wondered many times what would make Reader stand by Aemond after learning about Lucerys's death. So I developed her backstory and made it somewhat similar to Aemond's life. I wanted them relate to each other and to bond over death instead of letting it create a gap between them. I was also eager to write a Reader who was different from the goody-two-shoes pure girls we usually pair with characters like Aemond and let's not forget whose daughter she is. You can't be Daemon's daughter and be 100% angelic. Anyway, I can't wait to read your reaction and thank you again for your positive response. Happy New Year. Cee

(PART 1) (PART 2)

“Every time a Targaryen is born, the gods toss a coin in the air and the world holds its breath. Which side will it be, greatness or madness? It is a saying born from the mouth of the Targaryen lords that spread to the ears of the people back when Maegor The Cruel was still alive. People used to say that the second son of Aegon the Conqueror was the polar opposite of his half-brother, Aenys I. While Aenys was peaceful, loving and artistic, a weedy and fragile man as thin as a twig, Maegor was quarrelsome, heartless and brutal, a tall and strong man as large as a bull. Two completely different men yet two brothers born from the same father. Two sides of the same coin.”

You didn’t know how your mother could possibly know so much about the Targaryen dynasty or why she was so fascinated by their family history.             For years, you had thought her interest for the house of the dragon was the obvious consequence of the heartbreak Daemon Targaryen had left her with, that unconsciously (or not) it had been her desperate way to keep her heart close to the Rogue Prince. But as you grew up you began to believe the opposite. It was her obsession for the Targaryens that had drawn her to Daemon for the dragonriders represented everything she had desired in life: glory, power and especially freedom.          

Her sombre face – that only brightened when she would hear the name Targaryen - came back to you as you observed each side of the gold coin flipping between your fingers. The crowned head of late King Viserys The Peaceful shone in the moonlight while the three-headed dragon looked dull, certainly because it was the side that your mother had kissed for years back when the coin used to be hers.       Even though you were no real Targaryen and merely a bastard of the Prince of the City, you wondered if she had tossed the coin at your birth and if she had, which side it had landed on.

           The door to your dorm slammed open, waking up all the serving girls sleeping in their beds with a start. The crash made you jump with surprise and you quickly hid the gold coin under your pillow, fearing someone might steal it if they knew of its existence.     A young and bearded knight of the King’s Guard entered the room. Silently, he had a look around, scanning all the women’s faces one after the other with unknown purpose. When his blue eyes landed on you and noticed your silver hair, he finally declared in a blunt tone of voice. “You! Prince Aemond requests your presence, immediately.” Nothing more, nothing less.     It was the first time Aemond had sent a white cloak to find you. Usually, he would entrust an upright and meek servant he could easily intimidate with the task, menacing them to be discreet and sneaky if they wanted to keep their toil or their tongue. ‘Prince Aemond wishes for your service in his rooms at nightfall’ was the regular message since Aemond was determined to keep his nocturnal activities with you a secret and his reputation for decency intact. Something wasn’t right. Every girl stared at you as you got up, put on your red dress over your night gown and left the dorm with the guard in silence. Surely, they were wondering questions similar to yours considering their whispers and glances you chose to ignore but couldn’t help but despise. You blamed yourself for caring so much.     You followed the knight down the stairs and he led you to Aemond’s door without a single word. You could see the tension eating at him. His jaw was clenched and there was a certain anxiety behind his harsh blue eyes. What the hell was going on?             Arryk – that was the knight’s name (or was it Erryk?) – knocked and without opening, announced. “My prince, the serving girl is here.” He got no answer but he still gestured you to enter almost as if he was afraid to grab the handle himself.             You furrowed your brow but you did as he said anyway, not because he had asked you to but because you wanted to know the reason behind the knight’s odd stiffness and Aemond’s reckless summoning.     

The prince’s rooms were plunged into the darkness and cold. There was no flame burning in the fireplace that was as clean and empty as when Aemond had left for Storm’s End to obtain Borros Baratheon’s support and the hand of one of his daughters three days ago - a decision made by his family that had hurt you despite Aemond’s assurance that you would never leave his side.          

“My prince?” You said, searching for him in the dim moonlight and in the obscurity but he was nowhere to be found. “It is I … Y/N.” You got no answer, just a terrifying gloomy silence that made you anxious and look around you for comfort.         “Aemond?” You called his name, now too worried and fearful to care about etiquette.

Your informality managed to draw Aemond out of the shadow and he abruptly wrapped his arms around you as he slammed his hard chest against your back. Startled by his stealthy embrace, you immediately gasped and almost yelped, but as soon as you recognized your paramour’s strength and his perfume - which was a mix of leather and cologne drown in dragon musk - your fear immediately vanished and your body leant under his touch. “You scared me.” You chuckled; you heart still pounding in your chest but glad to finally be in his arms. You had missed him dearly. “You know, fear has never been arousing.” You joked as you put your hands over his to make him tighten his embrace around you.       Aemond did not reply. Instead, he hugged you harder and almost with desperate need and he nestled his head in your neck to breathe hard. His behaviour sucked the little playfulness warming your heart out of your chest and the impression that something was wrong reappeared straight away. You slowly turned around to look at Aemond with worry.   You could barely see his face in the darkness but the little you saw was enough to sadden you. His silver hair was wavy as if rain had poured over him and his purple look – that was avoiding eye contact - was swollen and reddened. Had he been crying? “Oh my sweet prince.” You cupped his cheek – he was freezing against your palm- and caressed it until he suddenly grabbed your hand to kiss your knuckles desperately. He was glad you were here. He needed you.   “My midnight relief.” He whispered, almost chocking on his words.        

Concerned for Aemond’s welfare, you hastened to light a fire and a few candles and you prepared a hot bath for him as fast as you could. You thought he would complain about your slowness but the look that he gave you as you did all those things to comfort him was not his usual glare of impatience. Standing in silence in the middle of the room, his head down and his face livid, he genuinely seemed confused.                       When the water was finally hot and steaming, you gently took his hands in yours and escorted him towards the tub. There, you removed his humid clothes one by one, his boots first, then his leather tunic and trousers and finally his undergarments. He let you do without any complain or any reaction, almost like a doll a little girl could dress and undress at will. But when you reached his eyepatch to unstrap it, he winced and grabbed your hand as swiftly as a snake, his sad young face wrinkled by fear and pain. You surrendered to his refusal but only for a brief moment.   “It’s alright.” You whispered as you stroke his cheek to reassure him. He eventually leant in your palm like a fearful cat and you used his moment of docility to remove his eyepatch but as soon as the piece of leather loosened around his head, his purple eye tightly shut and he grimaced again. “What is it my prince? What happened to you?” You asked and he opened his eye again.         No word came out of his mouth but the fear lingering in his purple iris sent shivers down your spine. What could terrorize a man as fearless as Aemond Targaryen? “Get in the bath. It will make you feel better … or at least warmer. You’re freezing.”

Again, he remained silent and gave you no sign of approval or disapproval. Instead, he just let you settle him down in the bath. Catatonic, he didn’t react when his body entered the hot water as if its comforting warmth had no effect on him. Knowing him, you were certain he was lost in the memory of whatever had happened to him, remembering each detail on a loop. He was an obsessional man after all.           You knelt quietly by the tub and plunged a clean clothe into the water to carefully clean and warm the young prince, starting with his shoulders and the top of his back that were still cold as ice. Unsurprisingly, he barely shivered when you rubbed his skin. So, you untied his long hair hoping some water on his head would bring him back to reality, to you.   His silver mane was very tangled and smelt like rain and wet dragon. Therefore, you thought it would be a good idea to grab a comb and a soap. Besides, Aemond enjoyed when you took care of his hair. But the second you tried to stand up, the prince held you back by the hand, his eye begging you to stay. You nodded and sat back on the floor beside him.     It took him a while before he finally uttered his first sentence. “Am I a monster?”           Your eyes widened at the question and you exclaimed, “What? No, of course not.” But you could tell that your words were not enough to convince Aemond. “Have the Four Storms insulted you, my prince?” If they had, they would hear from you when they visit the keep. Stupid cunts! “Is that why so you feel so down right now? Should I tell the Dowager Queen of your mistreatment in Storm’s End? I –”     “Starlight” Aemond sighed, cutting you off almost to calm you down but specially to tell you you were wrong. And for a second, you expected him to talk to you, to confess the truth. But it didn’t come. “Just join me in the bath. Relieve me.” He wanted to sound commanding but his tone was begging.

You nodded and stood up to take off your clothes as Aemond watched. Normally, he would have gazed at you with boiling lust, his hands itching to rip your dress off, his purple eye burning with a dark impatience but not tonight. Tonight, the One-Eyed Prince was nothing but distress. You entered the bath in silence and cautiously sat down on Aemond, straddling his lap. The warm water made you tremble with relief as the temperature soothed your body that was so sore and tensed after three tiresome and intense days working and worrying for your Prince. But your newly-found comfort was of no importance. The only thing that matter was Aemond, as always. Gently, you brought your hands to his muscular chest and started massaging him from his pectorals down to his abs, rubbing circles on his smooth skin, thinking that a little tender devotion could pull Aemond out of his dark thoughts. You were wrong.     He didn’t shiver or reacted to your strokes. Clinging to the edge of the tub, he didn’t even look at - or perhaps notice, which was worse - your hands going down towards his cock until he felt your fingers approaching his silver hairs crowning his sex. Then, he grabbed your wrists to forbid you to slide any further and kept them in a solid grip.         “Not now… Sing a song for me first.”           His unexpected demand confused you for a moment but you asked anyway. “Which song would you like to hear, my prince?”       “Have I ever answered this question before?”       No, he always let you decide, not because he had no idea of the song that he wished to listen to but because you had a real knack for finding the lyrics that resonated with him.         Aemond hated merry melodies, finding them silly and only made to be sung by jesters and drunken bards in taverns. What he loved were tragic lyrics, stories of doomed love and sorrow that he would ask you to sing at night sitting by the fireplace as if they were lullabies. And each time, he would listen to you carefully like a child and emotionlessly like a knight, secretly feeling each line deep in his heart that wasn’t as dark as everyone thought.                      

Aemond let go of your wrists and watched your beautiful face as you began to sing for him, your hands now in his hair to tenderly – if not motherly- run your fingers through the tangled strands and soothe his agitated mind.         “Oh, I am waiting for my boy, noble sailor. His hair is chestnut brown     His voice sweet as a blanket He'd promised me he'd come back to me a saviour           What is this thing that drowns?       Is it my son’s casket?”           Prince Aemond always thought you had the loveliest voice, enchanting as a mermaid and sweet as a mother. He could listen to it for hours. And yet tonight it sounded like the sharpest dagger, a blade made of Valyrian steel clinking unpleasantly in his ears and begging for an eye. It was also the teeth of a roaring dragon, tearing flesh apart and crushing bones, and the screams of a frightened boy who had never seen death before.       “Enough!” He vociferated, refusing to handle the pain you unconsciously caused him any longer.         Your mouth shut and your hands froze in his hair.     Aemond was looking away, unable make visual contact, his jaw as tightened as his fists. Rage was eating him from within but not only.       You thought about leaving him, believing you were useless, but the fact the prince had not dismissed you somehow made you stay. Perhaps, despite your inability to distract him and to relieve him tonight, he wanted you to remain by his side. Perhaps even the worst company was better than solitude.

“Be honest with me” He suddenly said.       “You know I’m always honest with you, my prince.”         “A few days ago, when you told me you feared I would abandon you after my betrothal, do you remember what I said?”             You knew the answer. “That for you own sanity you can’t let me go.” But the mention of this moment made you rather uneasy and perplexed. Why was Aemond talking about this now? Did he change his mind? Did he come to the conclusion that kicking you out of his life was the right thing to do? Was this the reason why you couldn’t comfort him tonight, why he didn’t want you?     You sensed fear growing inside of you, the questions echoing in your head like a hubbub. “Hmm… That is not what I should have said.” Your entire body shivered at his words and you instinctively hold on to his hair as one would hold on for dear life. Desperately. And you found yourself pathetic for reacting that way. You shouldn’t be surprised if Aemond had indeed come back to his dutiful senses, that he had decided to abandon you for his betrothed, a lady that certainly was way more beautiful than you and undoubtedly more educated. It was a reasonable choice, the choice any lord and or prince would make. And yet… “I should have said, for my own sanity don’t let me go.”     The terror knotting your stomach slightly loosened the same way your fingers clung at his silver hair unclenched and then you realized Aemond had been holding you by the waist all along, his short nails dug in your soft flesh. Whether it was to comfort you or out of a fear similar to yours you didn’t know.         “How can you believe I would ever let you go, my prince?”         “Because soon perhaps even in the morrow you and everyone else in this damn kingdom will call me a monster. You will reject me just like my own family have been rejecting me for years, just like they rejected me earlier when they learnt…” He brutally stopped, unable to continue his sentence.         “Have I not stood by you all these years, my prince?” You asked as you stroke his wet hair tenderly.               “You have.” He had a faint but grateful smile that barely could be seen on his heart-shaped lips.         “So why would I leave you now?”

Aemond found the courage to look at you deep in your eyes. He could tell you were waiting for an answer, that you were eager to know what had happened to him, what was the cause of his unusual behaviour. He was no fool. He was just scared. Behind his mask of unbreakable strength and austerity, he was just scared like a little boy, like the child he used to be when he had no dragon and no one as supporting and devoted as you by his side. He was scared to be abandoned, to be cast away once more. He was scared of the curse his kind were said to carry. He was scared but he spoke anyway.           “Because I am a murderer… I killed Luke.” He saw your face change, the worry in your features turning into incomprehension, the way you stared at him and almost pulled yourself out of his arms that refused to let you go as you removed your hands from his hair. He saw all that and he couldn’t see more.         “What? Why?” You asked in shock.   “Because I wanted to.” He confessed the same way he had confessed to his mother and grandsire earlier, with a coldness that concealed his shame.             “Aemond...”   “It’s the truth!” He growled. “I wanted the bastard dead. I’ve always wished him dead, since the day he took my eye … No, since the day he humiliated me by offering me that fucking pig. In my mind, he always deserved to die and only the Gods know how many times I’ve dreamt to gauge his eyeballs and present them to his whore mother on a silver platter. I wanted Luke dead. And now he is.” He could feel your eyes on him but he couldn’t even glance at you, too terrified to face your disappointment but he still found the strength to admit something he had kept hidden from his family because he still believed that despite your probable disgust right now, you would never mock him. “But I didn’t mean to kill him. I … I tried to stop Vhagar, I did. But she …” The images of his nephew and his dragon being torn to pieces stopped him from talking again and he sighed before eventually pulling your body closer to him to nestle his head in your chest and beg you, his purple eye glistening with repressed tears. “You must believe me. Please believe me. Stand by me.”   As a response, your fingers found their way back to Aemond’s hair and your caressed it to comfort him as you kissed the top of his head. He wrapped his arms around you with all the strength and despair he had and kissed your breasts with a heart-breaking gratefulness. You were still here and that’s all he wanted. But nothing had prepared him for your revelation.

“I killed my mother.” You declared, your voice barely louder than a whisper.     This was your darkest secret, the atrocity you had never told anyone but yourself when at night you would remember the macabre scene. And tonight, you were telling it to the man you held against your breasts, not to unburden you but to tell him you understood him. “What I said to you, that she died of syphilis holding my hand … that’s not what really happened.”   Aemond glanced up at you and slowly unclasped his embrace around you to let you tell your story, curious to know what it was and why it happened. There was no judgment in his eye because somehow, he could already relate.     “When I was twelve, my mother got so sick she was forced to be confined to bed. So, it fell upon me to provide for her. I turned to Madam Chataya and she hired me to take my mother’s place in the pleasure house. I was the only dragonseed whore in the Street of Silk, a blessing for the owner of the brothel but a curse for me. Men who dreamt to know how it felt to ‘fuck the blood of the dragon’ paid huge amounts of coins for a moment with me while others who hated the crown came to fuck me hard thinking it would somehow make the royals pay for their misery. And I endured this treatment every day because it was the only way to help my mother. But I got no thank you for it. All I had was more stories about Daemon Targaryen.” A tear rolled down your cheek and you chuckled to let Aemond believe you were fine. But your smile was too miserable and bitter to fool him. The prince thought about catching your tear but afraid it would stop you in your story he did not.   “One day, her sickness worsened and she got a terrible fever that made her hallucinate. For a week she thought my sire was by her side and she couldn’t stop calling his name over and over again while I was downstairs getting fucked by all the sons of bitches of King’s Landing. ‘Daemon, you’re here. Thank the gods!’” The rage and hatred you had never managed to erase made your jaw shake and your eyes darken. “It drove me mad. So, one night as she was screaming his name again, I wrapped my hands around her neck… I tried to resist. Trust me I did but I hated her so much and I hated Daemon and I hated all the men who paid to fuck me. I was just a child, seven hells!” You sobbed loudly and sensed Aemond’s fingers lightly brush the skin of your back. “She struggled, trying to gasp for air, begging me to stop but even as she did, she still yelled ‘Daemon, Daemon!’. I was crying, begging her to stop saying his name. I just wanted her notice me, to care about me, to just be my mother. She grabbed my hands to free herself from my grip but she was too weak to push me away. I felt her dying in my hands and when her body became still and she was finally silent… I think I felt more relieved than sad. I killed my own mother, Aemond. So yes, I’ll stand by you. Because people like you and me, we’re not monsters, we’re just survivors that life broke too many times.”

A new tear fell from your eyes and this time Aemond couldn’t resist the urge to wipe it from your face with his thumb. His sympathy and tenderness warmed your heart and you were grateful for them. It was possibly the first time in your entire life someone gave you pure and unconditional affection. And it felt nice.      

“Thank you.” You whispered with a faint smile that Aemond immediately caught with his lips. You gasped in his mouth but eventually welcomed his kiss with the same softness he gave you. Your fingers woven in his silver locks, his roaming up and down your back, your mouths were brushing each other, enjoying the delicacy that was so needed after such emotional confessions when your bodies began to yearn more for one another.   Your chests met harder, drawing a sharp breath out of both your parted lips and you used this moment to give the prince a passionate kiss. You pulled at his bottom lip and he moaned gutturally before he urged to smooch you, encouraged by your sudden eagerness, his hand holding the back of your neck firmly.         You could feel his cock swelling between your thighs, close to your hole that would soon be aching to be filled. You tried to ignore the growing hardness and the knot that was tightening your lower belly more and more which each second passing. You refused to seem sexually depraved to the prince’s eyes, but as soon as Aemond pressed your core to his shaft you grunted lustfully and began to move against him.         “I need you.” The words escaped your lips as you clung to his hair.           “As I need you.”         Your mouths couldn’t be separated. It was as if you needed the proximity and the mix of both your breaths to be and feel alive before the dreadful curse looming over you would make moments of intimacy like this one too rare.            

Aemond grabbed his length now erected and ready for you and guided it towards your begging entrance waiting for him under the water. Remembering what you had taught him before leaving for Storm’s End, he teased your clit with his tip and watched you squirm in his arms with an amused smirk on his lips before entering you almost smoothly. You wriggled a bit as he slid inside you to take him deeper.                 “Always such a tight warm hole for me.” Aemond purred as he took hold of your hips to sheathe his long shaft to the hilt. Your wet walls fit so well around him, taking every inch of his length perfectly. “Do you like it?” You asked then winced a bit when Aemond pulled out and pushed back inside of you with strength.           Your grimace brutally calmed the prince’s burning ardour and he froze. “Did I hurt you?” He worried with an apologetic tone when he understood he should have perhaps given you more time to adjust to his girthy presence before moving.   His reaction moved you. Never a man had shown any concern for you. You had always been treated like a toy, a doll all men with enough gold or power – Aemond included - could use or abuse to their will.         The prince’s sudden softness brought a single tear to your eye and you blinked to prevent it from rolling down your cheek.   “No.” You whispered and your face beamed with gratefulness. You kissed Aemond again to reassure him and slowly adjusted yourself to his cock by undulating your hips, a necessity knowing Aemond’s tendency to be hard, rough and extremely passionate.           But then he said something that caught you off guard.       “Keep doing that.”     It took you a solid second to understand what he meant and wanted from you and when you finally did, you stared at him confused. Did he want you on top? A part of you couldn’t believe this to be true. And he noticed.           “Ride me.” He ordered, making his wish perfectly clear this time.           “You sure? You never allowed me on top before, my prince.”       “I’m your dragon, aren’t I? Dragons are meant to be ridden. So, do it.” His command sounded so sensual to your ears you suddenly clenched around him, feeling an arousal you had never felt before. Aemond hissed as he slammed his head back against the edge of the tub and he put his hand on your hips to silently tell you to move.         You took a comfortable position on top of him, hands on his shoulders, your breasts close to his face, and slowly you lifted yourself up only to sink back on his hard cock as soon as his tip threatened to leave your hole. Aemond grunted as you welcomed him back inside inch by inch and he breathed hard. He seemed to enjoy it so much. So you did it again and again and again until he began to moan so desperately you decided to accelerate your pace. You took a hold of the edge of the tub right above the prince’s silver head and started to bounce on top of him, flooding the stone floor more and more each time your entrance eagerly met his balls.           “Seven heavens, you feel so good.” Aemond managed to compliment between two growls and you beamed.             “No, you feel so good, my dragon.”             The position was indeed amazing, empowering even. The proximity, the intimacy, the sensation to be in charge and to have Aemond, a prince, all to yourself. You could get used to this. “Indeed, it seems you’re enjoying me quite a lot.” Aemond hissed under your frantic rhythm. You were so wet around him and he was sure that wasn’t the water.                         You nodded and chuckled as you kept your pace steady but passionate. But soon, your desires began to scream loudly inside of you, encouraging you to take more, more pleasure, more power, more of Aemond. You let them guide you and your movements turned into a furious riding, similar to a wild rodeo except that the beast you were straddling was no wild animal but a very docile dragon staring at you with a burning but calm adoration through his lidded eye, his hands worshipping your body but occasionally clawing at your skin.       “Fuck I love riding you.” You admitted and Aemond smirked at your coarseness, definitely amused but proud to see you enjoy his cock so much.   “Keep going then, my fierce rider.” He joked and submitted to you even more to observe you take what you so eagerly wanted. He loved dominating you but there was something truly satisfying in seeing you fervently enjoying yourself on top of him. He made him feel somewhat adored, a feeling that had been too rare in his young life.      

“Touch me, please.”  You asked and one of the prince’s big hands gladly left your waist to slide down to your fold, ready to find your throbbing clit and send you over the edge, a generous gesture he was happy to offer you.       “Not here.” You stopped him, almost breathless. You took his hands in yours and abruptly brought them to your bouncing breasts that left unattended for too long to your taste. “There.” Aemond obediently cupped them as if he was holding two beautiful fruits and instantly started to toy with your sensitive perky nipples, pinching them and rolling them between his fingers. You grunted as he did and dug your nails in the wooden edge of the tub when you felt yourself almost fall on top of the Targaryen prince.           Your breasts brushed Aemond’s face in your fall and, unable to resist their delicious shape, he claimed one by catching it with his mouth. He immediately started sucking it loudly, twirling his tongue around the nipple as his cock began to throb in your cunt. It was no secret he liked your breasts in his mouth but you never saw the prince adoring them like that. Usually, he would suck at them for comfort, not for lustful purposes.     As he kept on devouring your teats, Aemond’s hand slid down your sides to find your waist again. He grabbed you firmly and you felt him adjust himself underneath you, forcing you to stop your eager bouncing on top of him. You clearly understood what he was trying to do. So, you bent on top of him even more, pressing your forehead to his, to help him a bit.     “You don’t mind?”     “Not if you bring me to the stars with you.” You whispered closed to his lips with a smile and he chuckled almost silently.   “Hmm… I can do that.”         “I’m sure you can, my dragon.”         He took your words as a challenge anyway and rapidly became entranced. He thrusted his cock inside you hard and deep to make you mewl and then when he reached the end of your squelchy pit, he began hammering you from underneath.         The water in the tub became agitated as you took each of Aemond’s mighty thrusts with loud lustful cries that only encouraged him to accelerate and soon your walls began to clench more and more around Aemond’s throbbing cock.             You were aware of the power of a tightening cunt around an aching shaft and you could definitely tell by looking at Aemond’s face wrinkled with pleasure that he was very close to reach his high. So, you tried to warn him, afraid he was too lost in lust to realise he was very close to milk his cock inside you.           “Aemond, careful. You will—”         “Let me… let me.” He panted almost begging you.

You eyed at him with surprise but also seriousness. You did not want him to make a reckless decision that he would regret later.     He sensed your state of mind and caught your look. His purple eye was lidded, reflecting the incoming burst growing inside him but he was still very conscious of his actions. “That’s alright. I truly want it. I want to know how it feels to breed a woman… to breed you.”           Just as before, his words made you moan and shiver and you ultimately nodded and buried your face in his neck, offering him your body to do as he wished.       Your submission set Aemond’s loins on fire and a solid hand wrapped around the back of your neck as he bit your shoulder like an animal in heat trying to breed his mate. He did not hurt you though. His hand and teeth were just merely to keep you in place as he kept chasing his release inside you with a rough and fervent pace.   His need was bringing you closer to your climax. Seeing Aemond so desperate, so eager to cum inside of you was the most arousing thing in the world. And after a few perfect thrusts, your walls began to flutter and you finally came loudly, crying in his neck. Your cunt furiously clenched and unclenched around his cock as you went up and down your high.             “Don’t muffle your screams, not tonight, not as I put my seed in you.” The Targaryen commanded as he felt you cum around him and push his aching cock towards its release.                 “Aemond!!” You shouted and he finally spurted his semen into you as he growled lewdly for long seconds, his voice following the rhythm of his manhood emptying itself in your comforting hole.

When there was nothing else that he could give you, the prince’s body became limp and he let himself sink in the tub, dragging you down with him. You laid against him, his cock still inside you keeping his seed as deeply as possible, your head on his beating chest, and you silently listened to his thundering heart.         You were both tired and panting, unable to move and to talk. But even if you could, what would you do? What would you say that your silence and embrace couldn’t show already? You rubbed your face on Aemond, trembling but very satisfied and you wrapped your arms around him. He responded with his fingertips caressing your back and that’s all you both needed right now.          

‘Every time a Targaryen is born, the gods toss a coin in the air and the world holds its breath. Which side will it be, greatness or madness.’ You didn’t know if your mother had tossed a coin for you and if she had, which side it had fallen on. But as your body was still united with Aemond’s, you began to think that if you tossed a coin right now it would show you madness because you were mad about your prince.

[maleyanderecafe]

Glass Mind (Visual Novel)

Created by: Moonrunes3

Genre: Horror

I've been waiting for this demo for a while, and it really does have such pretty art to it. This is another r18 game and while there’s currently nothing sexual or that yandere in the first day, there will be in the future. There is also jump scares in this one so if you’re sensitive to that this is your warning.

In terms of MCs, I do think that this is one I haven’t seen a whole lot in r18 yandere games. Most of the main characters tend to be part time workers in generally low paying jobs so it was interesting see a main character that is more focused on medical student. They seem to have a decent relationship with their parents (something that’s generally not mentioned in other games I’ve played) and while they have a similar personality of being sort of disgruntled and cynical, I do think that is at least more passable in this sense.

The MC starts by moving into a new house to start their new residency at the hospital and decides to go around and introduce themselves to the neighbors. After going to talk to them, they happen upon a neighbor that seems especially isolated, not even getting to know his name or even their face when talking to him. After a short interaction, he slams the door on the MC. After going home, they fall asleep, and wake up wandering the house, with the strange feeling of being seen. The next day, the MC goes to residency to start their training. They talk (or flirt) with a nurse with Evan, where they get transferred to the psychiatric ward. There they meet five patients there and a general overview of what they do at the ward. Meeting there, we meet a patient called Cryptic, asking questions and jump scaring us. Afterwards, everyone watches a movie and the MC goes to buy groceries, meeting with the neighbor. The MC can ask the neighbor, Liu, to have dinner at their place, to which he agrees. The MC makes food and finds a very red faced Liu holding roses in front of their house. We learn a bit more about him, like his hobbies and jobs and before ending the night with a kiss. After Liu returns home, and the MC feels as if there is someone watching them.

Glass Minds as of now is still in a demo state, but I do this the visuals (especially the backgrounds) are incredibly good. I like how when Liu peeks out of his door, we can see his eyes darting around, or even when Cryptic jump scares us. I think it gives the atmosphere of something that's a bit unsettling, along with the jump scare music that plays during each transition. I do like how the backgrounds are drawn since they are very well made with a good horizon line. It's also interesting to see a MC that has a bit of a design, since from what I can tell, there's a bit of a ponytail. Liu is the yandere in this one, but I don't really know what kind of a yandere he is at the moment (it's possible there's more information on their twitter, but I have yet to look through it). I do know that the idea for this game is to have a more realistic yandere, which I'm not exactly sure what that entails. It's possible they might try to have certain diagnosis that is similar to yandere behaviors (like bpd for instance) or if they are just going to have more realistic reactions to yandere behaviors. Considering that each of the five characters the MC meets in the psychiatric ward have diagnosis for different things, it's likely the first part of it. Speaking of five characters, I'm not entirely sure what purpose they serve as of yet. I don't know if the MC will be able to help them, if they will be datable or if they will be rivals for Liu to pick off. Either one sounds interesting though. It also makes me wonder if Liu will be diagnosed with something as well, which would be interesting.

Right now, there's a lot of room for speculation on what will happen, but I do think that personally this is one of the aesthetically better made games (just purely made on appearance) in terms of the r18 yandere vn genre. It's just as of now there is basically no yandere content since it's a demo.

If you are interested in this game, please give it a shot. The demo is short and very nice to look at.

[sexyglances]

Dusik's Self-Isolation, the "Doorkeeper" Poem, and Hyejin's Presence

It's been said many times before about Dusik, but episode ten once again showed how he has dedicated his life to a series of active choices that results in purposeful denial of providing love to himself. He deliberately distances himself from others and tries to deny his love for anything and anyone as a way for repenting against his past 'sins' of loving people who all died too soon.

To Dusik, his love has been nothing but a condemnation to others and himself, and he feels like he must live a life in limbo purgatory as penance, neither giving nor receiving too much companionship, lest he condemn another person via his love. Is his carefree lifestyle that carefree? Or is it his way of willfully keeping himself from attaching to anything? Because life has taught him that if he has strong emotion for something, then that is a harbinger of destruction for what he loves.

All the people he cared for most in his life died too suddenly and too early in his life, before he could process how to say a proper goodbye. And he feels directly responsible for at least one of their deaths--we see him say so explicitly to both his therapist in general and in more detail to Hyejin about his grandfather. To Dusik, his grandfather died because he let himself love soccer more than being vigilant, even though he didn't know there was anything to be vigilant for at the time. Then after his last loss in his mysterious five years away from Gongjin, it seems like Dusik abandoned direct expressions of love for anybody. He learned that vigilance is the only expression of love that he should offer other people.

Staying vigilant of other people's needs while also staying vigilant of not getting too close is his way of protecting other people for their needs and from himself. This is partly why he tried to deny his feelings for Hyejin for so long, dancing between the friend zone and something more. (As an aside, this focus on his own vigilance may also play into his love for photography. He seems drawn to capturing moments to look back on, not wanting moments to pass by unnoticed.)

As part of his vigilance, Dusik created a life for himself back in Gongjin as an unemployed jack-of-all-trades, a fix-it man, an unofficial neighborhood chief that can show up at a moment's notice when help is needed. Dusik has made himself into a person that can be reliable in any situation. And he threw himself into that role by learning as many trades as possible so he could fix any problem, from HVAC repair to barista certification to fruit carving and anything in between. But even though he wants to be known as a reliable entity in town, he also makes sure to position himself as a periphery figure only. He only shows up from outside other people's routine lives. He purposefully does not live on any fixed schedule that is permanently tied to anyone else, and he surrounds himself with a thick air of detachedness. This is how he ensures he can't become an albatross to anyone's life again. He can't be accountable for destruction of life if he's simply a hired part-timer and a neighborhood helper; and nothing with any inherent responsibility that can't be explained away by utility rather than love.

Sure, he's a chief that other people turn to for help, but he rejects anything more official than being a helpful neighbor. He refuses to express his love for individual people because experience has taught him that his love can destroy lives, so he only shows his love for the people of Gongjin as part of a whole entity, detaching himself from anything that can be seen as preference for individual people. This is something Chunjae noted in their conversation the night Juri ran away. Dusik accepts other people's problems and their joys, but he doesn't actively share his own in full-fledged reciprocation. The exception seems to be halmeoni Gamri, at least to some extent, but even then he tends to frame any explanation of him going above and beyond for her as a way of paying back for how much she cared for him growing up. Dusik lives in his own manufactured limbo where he has made his existence entirely fixed as an untethered entity.

Dusik has turned his pain into a lifestyle where he knows he must keep his heart guarded from other people by becoming too attached, keep himself from sullying his hometown and the people he's dedicated himself to with the infection that is him asking for reciprocity. His infectious disease is spread through baring himself and his full-fledged feelings to other people, and thus he quarantines that part of himself from anyone. Denial of love is his love. So he flits from job to job, works for minimum wage, and tries to pretend that he does not attach himself to anything or anyone but himself. It's easier for everyone this way. That way he cannot drag anyone down into the surf that is his destruction.

He has decided that it's better for him to be a solitary observer, taking up space in a manmade shipwreck away from others, both literally and figuratively, as is shown by how he made the choice to keep his grandpa's boat out of the water, perching it on a hill so high and isolated that he could barely get it up there in the first place. Even if it is incredibly difficult to do, he is determined to meet his goal of self-exile. It's the only way he knows how to protect himself and everyone else, through self-imposed isolation.

But like the poem Dusik read to Hyejin, once she entered his life, she would not stop showing up for him. She didn't willingly ascribe to the rules he set forth for other people. He told her to cross lines freely, as if she had already been doing so. She may have verbally pontificated about not crossing lines, but her actions said otherwise, and she was crossing Dusik's boundaries before he even knew it. She didn't fit perfectly into Gongjin or Dusik's life, and her stretching the limits of what is 'acceptable' is what he needed to open himself up to a new perspective other than steadfast solitude. It was through her own actions, stepping into his circle of solitude and making her presence known, that he began to question if isolation was really what he wanted and preferred.

From the very beginning, Hyejin asked Dusik to stay with her, literally tugging on his shirt to keep him from leaving on the beach the first day they met. And she hasn't stopped holding onto him. First it was out of helplessness, then when she held onto him and asked him to stay before her first town hall meeting, it was her asking for his support, then when she ran into his arms when she was scared, it was her showing her deep trust for him, and now most recently, in her half-asleep state on the couch, it was her desire to emotionally connect with him in a way more profound than he does with others. Her presence is her way of asking him to open the door to his heart.

And like the poem said, and what Dusik realized as he was reading it, his staunch gatekeeping betrayed him and he fell in love because of his own stubbornness in refusing to leave his post. He found someone who reliably showed up to his post as dependably as he does. Or rather, she showed up and found him in Gongiin. He was always there to keep his metaphorical door closed, and she was always there to check if it was still closed. Dusik was so sure that gatekeeping would keep him safe, so sure that his constant monitoring and vigilance would keep him protected, that he failed to realize what would happen when he began to rely on his denial. His continued refusal became something reliable in itself, though not because of him, but because of her showing up. After all, what is there to refuse if there is not someone knocking at the door every day? His vigilance betrayed him because he forgot that actively guarding his heart was also keeping his heart active.

Dusik tried to deny Hyejin entrance inside his heart, but then her existence in Gongjin took up space all around him. She became like the sea itself, constant and deep and reflective. And just like Gongjin would feel incomplete without the presence of the sea's waves lapping on its shore, so too is Dusik starting to feel incomplete without Hyejin's assured presence. So much that when she's gone, as he said at his grandpa's memorial ceremony after she left, he misses her so-called noisiness and disruption of his habitual silence. He misses her. Without him realizing it, the silence he used to crave has started to feel like an empty void, and it's no longer silence he seeks. Instead, it's the steady sound of her waves crashing against his shoreline that has started to bring him comfort. Her tides coming and going, leaving bits of herself behind with him and changing his coastline with her presence is more dynamic and interesting than the unvarying landscape of the dry hilltop perch he made for himself.

Dusik's gatekeeping has evolved in that its purpose is no longer about resolute solitude and staying away from others, but about taking up patrol in order to be near her. Subconsciously Dusik found himself willing to abandon his sentry, not even noticing that he was walking away from his guard post and leaving himself wide open to her. This is so interesting coupled with the line Hyejin said a few episodes earlier, "He's always around when you least expect it." Both in that she too unexpectedly became a part of his life like she claimed he did with hers, and also how in some ways the reason he is always present is because he actively finds ways to show up around her and enact his gatekeeping. Just like the lines from the poem, Dusik became the doorkeeper whose "job is to wait for you the next day to deny you. / My job is to wait for you the next day and fall in love with you."

And then Hyejin confessed, and Dusik made the conscious choice to abandon his barricaded doorway to go be with her and kiss her. Because his barricade wasn't worth keeping up if she was baring herself to him so openly and and unguardedly. Isolation and vigilance lost their meaning in the face of the buoyancy he feels when he is with her. Hyejin tried to say that he could leave his door closed. She put her hand up to his mouth, and with that she meant she didn't expect anything in return, that he could leave his door closed, and she would still be there, her feelings unwavering. But her bravery made him brave as well. And he made the active choice to pull back his own door, lower her hand, and kiss her. Now, his doorkeeping is meaningless without her. And after all these years, his carefully cultivated isolation is worthless if it means isolation from embracing Hyejin's presence as well.

The poem said, "denying my love is my job," but Dusik finally realized he was ready to accept more than just denial in this life with Hyejin. He was finally ready to make the active choice to accept someone in his heart again. Hyejin's presence made Dusik acutely aware of the weight of his isolation and he knew it was again time for him to firmly reject something. But this time instead of rejecting another person, instead of rejecting the feelings of reciprocal love, he rejected his own self-isolation. His rejection was in favor of love rather than against it. Hyejin knocked, completely content with the closed door of Dusik's existence, but this time he flung his door open and made the move to kiss her and return her feelings back. His purpose is no longer to deny his love, it's to accept love and give love back to her.

-----

And just in case you wanted to read the poem in full, I've pasted it below:

"Doorkeeper" by Kim Haengsook

It's my job to say, "You shouldn't do this here."

It's my job to deny your purpose.

It's my job to deny you the next day.

It's my job to wait for you the next day to deny you.

My job is to wait for you the next day and fall in love with you.

Thus, denying my love is my job.

I will not cry because of my vocation, he wrote. I cried sometimes when I wrote a diary.

[aomine-ryo]

Please do a scenario for the GOM reacting to their figure skater gf. Thank you 💜 I love your blog btw, its nice to see that the knb fandom is still alive. My heart is patiently waiting for a season 4 huhuhu 😭

Omg i will die if there’s ever a season 4. Also this was such a cute idea and I made Kise’s one so long and tbh it’s a concept for a wholeass fic lmao. Anyways, hope you like it xx

Scenario: GOM with a figure skater s/o

Kise

You and Kise had only been dating for a few weeks so there was still so much to learn about each other. Everyday there was something new that he learned about you that made him fall in love with you more and more. Even the smallest little things about you sparked his interest. Just the other day, he had a whole moment when he found out you liked the same cereal as he did.

Of course, him finding out you did figure skating elicited a bigger reaction from him than just liking the same cereal. It was just another Tuesday for you when your school day finally approached it’s end. Just you were heading out the school gates, you spotted your boyfriend standing and waving with a big smile on his face.

“Ryouta!” you squealed as you ran into his arms. “What are you doing here?” you questioned, not used to seeing him here since he was in a different school.

“I came to surprise my lovely girlfriend and invite her on a date of course,” he replied sweetly.

“Oh,” you said, your smile faltering as your shoulders dropped in evident disappointment. “I appreciate it, but I actually have practice today.”

“Practice?” Kise furrowed his brows. “Practice for what?”

“I have figure skating practice today. I usually head to the rink after sch—“

“You figure skate?” Kise exclaimed rather loudly; you were quite sure the whole street heard him.

“Yeah I do,” you giggled at his excitement.

“Y/N-cchi, how come you never told me? Can I watch your practice?” he asked, wide-eyed.

“You really want to watch? It can get a bit boring,” you asked.

“Of course I want to watch!” he beamed as he took your hand in his. “Lead the way.”

Grabbing a snack from a grocery store on the way, the two of you headed to the rink, where your coach was waiting for you.

“Woah, you get this while place to yourself?” Kise said breathlessly when you entered the chilly arena with skates in one hand and Kise’s palm in the other.

“Sometimes other people train here too, but today seems like it’s just me,” you shrugged.

You and Kise moved to the stands so you could get your skates on before you got onto the ice. After warming up for a bit, your coach went over your usual drills before you began to rehearse your routine that you were practicing for an upcoming competition.

Meanwhile, Kise was watching you wait nothing but intrigue in his amber eyes. Even while you were just doing your exercises, he found you absolutely graceful. Needless to say, when he finally saw the routine, he was over the moon. He had to hold himself back from hooting and cheering during it in case that threw you off. He was so excited in fact, that he had moved from his seat in the stands to the area right by the rink so he could get a closer look. His eyes never left you for even a moment.

Once your practice was over, you skated over to the edge where Kise was bent over the rails. “Well, boring isn’t it?” You said to him.

“Are you kidding me? You’re mesmerising! My Y/N-cchi is so talented,” he said, stealing a quick kiss from your lips.

Caught up in the moment, you didn’t notice your coach make his way over to you two. “You must be Kise,” he said, holding his hand out for the blonde to shake.

“Yes I am. Y/N-cchi’s been talking about me, haven’t you?” Kise inferred, throwing you a cheeky grin.

“Y/N’s mentioned you a fair few times,” your coach chuckled. “It’s your first time here isn’t it?”

“Yeah it is,” Kise nodded.

“Well, Y/N seems to do much better when you’re here. You should visit more often,” your coach said, making you want to crawl in a hole out of embarrassment.

“Is that so? I’ll do that for sure,” Kise laughed. “I was thinking that I should pick up ice skating too— just casually though.”

“Really?” you asked, eyes lighting up.

“Yeah, we could do a routine together if you’re up for it. Let me get the basics down first though,” Kise suggested.

“I can give you a few pointers if you need any. If I think your routine is good enough, maybe I’ll enter you two in a competition,” your coach said.

You were excited now; Kise was a quick learner so there was no doubt that you’d be practicing with him in no time.

A few months went by and Kise was attending almost all of your practices with you. He’d gotten quite good at it too— there were still a few falls that were absolutely hilarious because he’d whine every time, but for the most part he was much better than most amateurs.

Your coach was very amused by his progress too. “A basketball player and a figure skater in one— you don’t see that often,” he’d chuckle.

Figure skating was never something Kise saw himself doing. But looking at how beautiful you looked when you skated, an eagerness was lit up in him. No matter how hard he’d practice, he knew he’d never match up to you. There was something about the way you moved so gracefully that made him feel like whatever he attempted was inferior. He wasn’t complaining though— he was doing this for fun after all. Plus getting to see you move like that was a privilege enough.

Moreover, skating with you allowed him to spend even more time with you, and that time only increased when you two got serious about your routine as partners. Neither of you were expecting to win the competition, but you were certainly having fun in the process.

Eventually the day came where you were in an official arena with Kise. Sliding onto the ice with someone was a strange feeling as someone who was used to competing individually. In a way, it was reassuring. Kise held your hand tight as you got into position in the centre of the rink.

“Ryouta, I’m actually kinda nervous,” you muttered to him.

Honey eyes looked at you softly as your hand was squeezed even tighter. “Don’t be— I’m here with you, every step of the way,” he whispered. “Besides, you can’t possibly look worse than me.”

You felt the tension ease a little as you let out a giggle. “If we go down we go down together, I guess,” you shrugged, the idea bringing you a strange comfort.

“Exactly,” Kise smiled. He looked to the side and spotted the technician giving you two a thumbs up. “You ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied.

Kise nodded in confirmation before letting go of your hand and getting into position. “We got this.”

Midorima

Midorima loves you; he loves everything you do. Even if you murdered someone, he’d probably still love you (though he’d probably scold you while he helps you hide the body— but let’s not get into the specifics of that). Needless to say, he absolutely adored watching you skate.

Midorima is a busy person though, so it’s hard for him to find time to watch you as much as he’d like. Every time he did get the chance though, he was absolutely mesmerised, as though he was experiencing it for the first time all over again.

He’d never forget the first time he saw you skate though. You’d just begun dating and you had a competition that you invited him to. He wanted to meet up with you before it started, but his basketball practice ran on for longer than he expected. For a moment, he thought he’d miss it all together, but after a quick train ride and a lot of running, he made it just in time for your slot.

Admittedly, Midorima was really unfamiliar with figure skating. He told himself that he’d read into it since you were a skater yourself, but he never got the chance to. He made his way into the crowded stands and found himself a seat, feeling rather out of place considering he was still in his bright orange tracksuit. He didn’t dwell on it for too long though because his attention was quickly drawn to the ice that you were gliding onto.

For a fleeting moment, his jaw dropped. You looked gorgeous. The confidence you seemed to have as you got into position was a side of you he’d never seen before. It was like a different person altogether. Your name was announced in the speakers, eliciting a cheer from the crowd following by a small chatter that snapped him out of his trance for a moment. The music began to play and the crowd died down as all eyes were on you.

Right off the bat, you moved with purpose. Blades gliding on the sleek ice with such grace as your body swayed to the music. The moment you landed your first triple axel, Midorima was sure of it— this was your element. Completely lost in your routine, Midorima’s breath was taken away. And when it finally ended with a loud cheer from the crowd, he was left amazed. When his horoscope placed Cancer in first that day, he didn’t think he’d be so lucky to see something this gorgeous, but here he was.

He quickly rushed down the stands to meet up with you the moment he pulled himself together. As you were taking your skates off, you spotted him approaching you almost immediately— I mean, how can you not notice the 6 foot tall, green-haired man?

Your face lit up in an instant as you ran over to him barefooted and leaped into his arms. “Shin! You made it!” you exclaimed in glee.

“Well, I couldn’t miss a performance that good, now could I?” he said with a soft smile as he hugged you tight.

“You liked it? It wasn’t really my best score, but it’s up there,” you said, composing yourself and pulling away from him.

“I don’t really understand the scoring system, but you were phenomenal— really. I could watch you do that all day if I could,” he said genuinely.

“I don’t think I have the stamina to be skating like that all day,” you giggled. “But thank you, it means a lot.”

After that day, Midorima did his best to free up some space in his schedule to watch you practice. Seriously, he was addicted to watching you skate. It blew his mind every time. Of course, he’d be there for every single competition, cheering you on because he was now without a doubt, your biggest fan.

Aomine

“Competition? What competition?” Aomine questioned one day as the two of you walked to school together.

“Have I not told you before? I figure skate,” you said simply.

Aomine stopped in his tracks for a moment, catching you off guard as you stopped too to see what had happened. He just stared at you with a baffled expression. “You figure skate?! That’s fucking hot! Why haven’t you told me before?” Aomine exclaimed.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Well I’m telling you now. I’m guessing you’ll be there tonight then?”

“That shouldn’t even be a question,” Aomine shook his head as he took your hand in his and continued walking. “Are you any good?” He asked.

“Well, I’m good enough to be in a competition, aren’t I?”

“True. I bet you’re great at it; you’re great at everything,” Aomine said.

“That’s not true,” you replied.

“It is.”

“So you’re saying I’m great at basketball too?”

Aomine visibly hesitated as he thought back to all the times he tried to teach you how to play. “Uh, yeah sure, let’s say that,” he lied.

“Shut up,” you laughed, playfully punching his arm.

For some reason, Aomine would not shut up about you being a figure skater for the rest of the day. You were trying to have a conversation with Momoi when he intervened, “Did you know Y/N’s a figure skater? How cool is that?”

“Yes I did know, Dai-chan. I’m guessing you told him about the competition today?” Momoi said returning her attention to you.

You nodded in response but Aomine stood there, slightly offended. “You told her but not me?”

“I just assumed you knew,” you shrugged, finding it quite cute how he was so invested in your sport.

“You shouldn’t assume I know anything,” Aomine said, making both you and Momoi roll your eyes and laugh at him.

Eventually, evening came and you were in the waiting room with your coach, with your eyes glued on the screen that broadcasted the current participant as you mentally prepared yourself for your turn, which was creeping up upon you. Meanwhile, Aomine was seated in the audience with Momoi, being as impatient as ever. “When is Y/N coming?” he yawned.

“Y/N should be up next,” Momoi informed as the song slowly reached its end.

The crowd cheered and a chatter started once again as everyone waited for the next person to take the ice. It took a few more minutes, but you finally entered the rink, skating to the center to get into position.

Almost immediately, Aomine’s jaw dropped. You looked stunning. The way your suit dazzled and clung onto your body was pure art. He swore that he fell in love with you all over again just at the sight.

The music began after a nod of confirmation from you and your skates began to roam the ice ever so smoothly. Aomine was blown away. You were nothing like the previous participants. The way you moved was so clean and purposeful. With each spin and leap, Aomine’s heart skipped a beat— you had his complete attention.

He was quite sure Momoi was talking to him, but he didn’t hear a word. For some reason, everything else around him seemed to fade out as he watched you skate, almost like he was stuck in a trance.

He was finally snapped out of it when the routine came to an end, leaving him at a loss for words as he joined the crowd in their applause.

You made your way off the ice and headed back inside towards the changing rooms, where you ran into Aomine and Momoi in the hallways. “Oh hey guys, what did you think?” You asked as you rotated your ankles nonchalantly to relieve them from the slight soreness you felt.

“You were so so good, Y/N. Dai-chan was so silent during the entire thing, I think you hypnotised him or something,” Momoi joked as she nudged Aomine’s arm playfully.

You turned your attention to your boyfriend, who was rolling his eyes at Momoi’s comment. “Well, was that performance worth all the hype you seemed to have?” you asked him.

“Of course it did. You did so well out there— not to mention the fact that you look incredible in that suit,” Aomine said, still unable to take his eyes off of you.

“Aw really?” You smiled.

“Yeah, you look fucking hot,” Aomine responded confidently.

You couldn’t help but giggle before you got on your toes to place a kiss of gratitude on his cheek, making him flustered. “Well, thank you Daiki— it means a lot.”

Murasakibara

You won’t be able to find someone that loves you more than Murasakibara does. Really, you won’t. He loves everything about you. Your smile, your looks, your mind, and even your hobbies. As someone who doesn’t really take much interest in other people, it was a brand new feeling to be absolutely smitten over you. But he was dedicated.

The two of you were still getting to know more about each other in the first few weeks of dating and the topic of sports came up. “Do you play any sports, Y/N-chin?” Murasakibara asked you during one of your video calls at night that he liked to have when he had nothing else to do.

“Yeah, I’m actually a figure skater,” you replied.

Murasakibara’s eyes lit up. “Really? That’s so cool. Do you go for practice and stuff?”

“Yeah, duh. I practice almost everyday.”

“No way. Can I come watch your next practice?” he asked.

“Sure, but I feel like you might find it boring,” you said hesitantly, knowing that you wouldn’t want to sit there for hours doing absolutely nothing but watch.

“Well, I guess I’ll find out,” Murasakibara said surely. “Do you have any videos of you skating?”

“Yeah but they’re not on my phone.”

“Send them to me, I wanna see you skate.”

You giggled. “Atsushi, you’ll see me skate at practice, can’t you wait until then?”

“No, I can’t wait. I bet you look really cute when you skate,” he said as brought another potato chip to his mouth.

“Well, you’re going to have to wait because I’m not sending you anything,” you said dismissively.

“How mean,” he pouted.

Luckily, you managed to change the topic of the conversation before he could beg of you any more. The day for your next practice came and Murasakibara was brimming with excitement as you two entered the arena.

After instructing him to sit at the stands, you took to the ice where you started with the warmups that your coach told you to do. Practice went on and Murasakibara gave you his full attention— which is an incredibly rare sight.

As he watched you stretch and leap and fall, he couldn’t help but be impressed. He certainly could never be able to do any of the things you were doing— it looked exhausting. Something about the way you moved had him captivated though. You looked like you were having fun. No matter how many times you’d fall or mess up, you always seemed passionate about it and that was something he envied ever so slightly, but at the same time he found it such a lovely sight.

You truly loved the sport, he could see it so clearly. And automatically, he had a newfound interest in it too. It wasn’t that he wanted to try figure skating himself, it was just the fact that he loved seeing you so happy that he began to enjoy the sport too.

“I’m surprised you haven’t fallen asleep yet,” you said to him jokingly once your practice came to an end.

“Well, you were just that good— you had my full interest,” Murasakibara shrugged.

“Really? I didn’t expect you’d enjoy it that much,” you said.

“I did. I might just watch all your practices from now on.”

“Sure you will,” you said sarcastically.

Little did you know, that he would actually do just that. At almost every practice, he’d be seated in the stands, eyes full of admiration as he watched you. He would often bring you little snacks that you liked so that you’d have something to eat after practice. There were times where he’d be extra tired, but he’d still make it to the rink, even though you’d tell him countless times not to feel obligated to watch. It usually ended with him falling asleep halfway through, but he never regretted it. It was always nice waking up to the happy face of the person he admired.

Akashi

Akashi was well aware that you were a figure skater before he began dating you. Of course, he’d never seen you actually figure skate, but he knew random things about almost everyone around him and being interested in you only made him want to get to know you more.

Akashi is a very supportive boyfriend to you, especially when it comes to your passions. Figure skating was a very beautiful sport in his eyes and the fact that the person he was dating was a figure skater was something he’d never get over.

Being the calculating person he is, he decided to take you ice skating on one of your first dates with him. It wasn’t a particularly busy day at the public ice rink so Akashi got quite lucky when the two of you got there and realised that the place was practically empty.

“Looks like we got the whole place to ourselves,” Akashi said as the two of you slid onto the ice, hand in hand.

“Yeah, it’s quite nice actually,” you smiled, appreciating the serenity of the place. “It’s kind of making me want to do a routine or something,” you thought out loud.

“Then do it.”

“No, we’re on a date, we should just skate together,” you shook your head.

“No, I insist. I’ve been wanting to watch you skate for a while now, and the opportunity finally came,” he said. “Besides, it’s just one routine, shouldn’t take too long, right?”

You let out a sigh as a soft smile spread across your face. “Yeah, I suppose,” you shrugged. “But don’t expect too much— I’m not in the most comfortable of clothes right now.”

Akashi chuckled. “No judgement from me. I just want to watch you skate.”

“Alright,” you smiled as you skated over to the centre of the rink.

Akashi stepped out and leaned against the rails to watch you from the sidelines, barely able to contain his excitement. There wasn’t any music playing so all you could hear was the sound of your blades against the ice, echoing throughout the arena. However, that didn’t stop Akashi from being fully immersed in your skating.

He was blown away by the way you skated, especially considering that he sprung this on you out of the blue. Every movement was precise and refined; he could tell that you’ve practiced to perfection and he was impressed. In fact, seeing you move so flawlessly had him swooning over you more than you could possibly imagine.

Eventually, you came to a halt, your breathing heavy after the spins and jumps, though you were quite satisfied now that you got it out of your system. Akashi returned to the ice with a smile on his face. “That was outstanding, Y/N,” he complimented.

“Really? You liked it?”

“Of course I did. It all seemed so professional— you really practice a lot, don’t you?” he pointed out.

“Yeah, I have been for years,” you nodded.

“Well, you’re absolutely stunning on the ice,” he said genuinely as he placed a kiss on your forehead and took your hand in his. “Shall we get back to our date now?”

“Yes, yes, of course.”

As much as Akashi would have adored to watch you practice everyday, the times often overlapped with his basketball training— though he did make it a habit to meet up with you afterwards so that he could walk you home (like the gentleman he his). Even though he was a busy person, he always attended your competitions without fail. He’d always send you a bouquet of flowers before your competitions as well, with little notes wishing you good luck and it would melt your heart every single time.

[thatbangtanbloom]

petals | bts [1]

petals | bts

teaser | [1] (could be read without the teaser)

characters: kim namjoon, kim seokjin, min yoongi, jung hoseok, park jimin, kim taehyung, jeon jungkook, reader

pairings: ot7 x reader

categories: angst, fluff, (light???) smut

genre: idol!bts, idol!reader (fem!reader)

warnings: reader is a bit sensitive but comes out of her shell slowly,, uhh,,, grinding???, making out ;) , sad kissing????, hoseok is lowkey whipped for reader, so is jimin,,, taehyung is a little mean for like 2 sentences

a/n: this first chapter introduces the reader, j-hope, and jimin! more members will be introduced with reader next chapter :]]

❀

The seven of them may not have been bound by blood, but they were in every other way. Their interests often aligned and common actions were shared where sometimes they did not know where one began and one ended. They began their days together as they made their way to the practice room and ended it when they loaded into vans to make their way back to their shared dorm.

It wasn’t as though they had never noticed the fundamental difference between the seven of them and you. They were keenly aware of it whenever the stylist squeezes you and your other girl group members into shorts opposite to their pants or the added slits to accentuate your figure when suits were the dominant style. Yet, your performance was the tipping point.

Each of them had drawn silent as they watched you move like a siren across the stage. The male dancers seemingly falling at your feet while your white chiffon hugged your every curve, floating like water with each move to the beat. Never mind that you were in a group with seven other girls, all of their eyes could only be glued to you.

They would like to think that it were the performances that had them glued to your every move - that it wasn’t the remnants of false dreams that led them to watch you like a hawk. Almost like wolves, they would be eager to pounce at you if there was one misstep. Yet, you made none.

Hoseok was the proudest of them all. He purposely would stay up to watch you practice, giving helpful tips to evoking further emotion.. but this? Seeing you move this sexily as an enchantress almost made him feel weak in the knees.

They had attempted a lot to make you feel welcomed into their tiny home of seven. When BigHit informed them that the top trainee from Produce 101 would be joining their company left a sour taste in their mouths, but after learning it had been you who captivated millions, their worry lessened. BigHit had provided themselves on growing from the ground up - working organically to cultivate each trainee with precision, sincerity, and perseverance. Their own premonitions of how you functioned as an artist did make them question your credibility. It was only a matter of time before their watchful eyes looked after you since your pre debut days. The trainee girl division of BigHit had been long gone, but BigHit could not let go of you, not after so many monthly evaluations, tearful performances, and years going down the drain.

It was not as though you were coming into the group empty-handed. You had your own fan base from the show and project group who swore to stay by your side no matter what. Admittedly, your fan dynamic was a bit more mixed - guys eagerly flicking to see you and the other girls in school uniforms while you belted your heart out. The latest addition was the reassurance that BigHit needed to their girl group that they intended to put together.

“She doesn’t belong here.” were the first words you heard when your bags finally were placed down. It had been Taehyung who had uttered such words. You instantly find your blood run cold from the words. You could not quite understand why Taehyung was so against you. The two of you had never spoken more than three words to one another outside of promotional shoots where you were slated as an MC for the few shows variety was on.

Nevertheless, you tucked your head down and followed your other group members to the practice studio where you would dance for hours on in. You would practice until your limbs ached, taking every moment of a break as one step closer to the solace of your bed when comeback preparations were soon approaching. But every time you rested for just a moment, you could remember the echo of Kim Taehyung’s words. She doesn’t belong here.

Unbeknownst to you, not every member of BTS was antagonistic towards you. In particular, Jung Hoseok admired your tenacity more than anything. The two of you spoke in quick words, him congratulating you on your variety show appearances and complimented the way your freestyle had improved over the years. He was in complete awe of you.

“You’re here again?” His soft voice greets you at seven in the morning on the fifth-floor practice room of BigHit Entertainment. You would be embarrassed that you are currently laying on the floor looking utterly disheveled with your gray sweatpants loosely hugging your hips and the way your shirt is drenched with sweat if this were the first time.. but it had not been. He has two iced Americanos in hand and his lovely heart-shaped smile to match. “I swear.. you’re one of the hardest working people I know.”

His words lift your heart and you scramble to stand up and bow deeply to him, “Thank you, senior.” You say before bending a full ninety-degrees to show your respect.

“There’s no need for formalities… aish… are we not close?” Hoseok teases playfully as he places his keys onto the television monitor’s counter and shrugs off his jacket. He has always been one of the more friendly members of your senior group. Most likely because he catches you in the practice room four days out of the week when your leader, Roa, has not realized you snuck out of the dorms in exchange of the four walls. “You can just call me Hoseok. Or j-hope if it makes you feel better.”

You shyly rub the back of your neck, “I.. I suppose we are.” You admit sheepishly as you watch him pass you the iced americano into your hands. His hands are soft and gentle as they overlap over yours. “Congratulations on Billboard and the Grammy’s…. It must be very exciting,”

“Yah, yah, you said that yesterday.” Hoseok has always teased you as his hand raises to your head and pats it gently. In particular, Hoseok has always found your shyness cute. He thought it was sweet that despite years of being an idol, you still never lose the softer parts of yourself. “Let’s talk about you. And Reverie, huh?”

Your girl group, Reverie, had ultimately been a successful feat despite Korean netizens eager to question the validity of putting former IOI members and BigHit trainees as the first girl group the company would produce as opposed to using ‘fresh’ talent. Reading article after the article had made you insecure when they commented on your rather ‘boring’ facade compared to the other members that had charms that seemed to overflow. Were you that bad?

As though reading your thoughts, Hoseok gently clears his throat. “You should show me your dance.” He contends with a warm smile.

Despite only having these secret times in the practice room, Hoseok felt as though he could read you. He noticed your demure way of approaching things that were unfamiliar to you - the sharp contrast for when you performed on stage. If anything, he wanted to help you find the same confidence you felt on stage. He wanted you to find it with him.

“I can do that,” You say as you take another sip of your iced Americano and rush to place it in front of the mirror. You steal a peek from the corner of your eye as the older man settles into the chair and shrugs off his jacket. The other members (most likely Jimin since he tended to be as much of a practice fiend as he was) would not join for another half an hour, so Hoseok was eager to spend this time with you.

His eyes follow your every moment as he leans forward like a man entranced. He’s always admired the fluidity in your movement; the way that you texture changes without warning and how sharp each move is when it needs to be. Like water, you move as one with no disconnecting movements until you want it to be. Quite literally, he thinks your poetry in motion.

The latest comeback is equally as alluring as it is power-based. BigHit quantifying that girl groups should not be held to a double standard meant the choreography being just as difficult as your male counterparts. More than satisfactory for you, it let you feel a greater sense of accomplishment when you hear Hoseok’s claps of approval.

“You’ve improved a lot.” Hoseok remarks with a bright grin as he stands to his feet before walking over. “Though… I would say that this one move could be drawn out more. You’re focusing more on the timing rather than the execution.” He watches as your features contort at his words as you try to piece together what move in particular was he talking about. Could it had been the pas de bourrée? “Here,”

He moves closer to you with a reassuring look in his eyes as his hand rests on your shoulder and slightly presses down, “You’re supposed to have your shoulder go slack, right? You shouldn’t be so tense. Relax.” He says as his fingers trap down your arm to graze over your elbow and tuck it in more. “Your arm was taking away from the focus on your legs. You know the choreography, so why do you dance like you don’t?”

“Ouch,” You say with a forced laugh. You knew he meant well, but from to time, Hoseok did tend to critique you more like you were a member of his own group rather than a junior. Regardless, you were still thankful for his key eye for detail. You never would have deduced it was because he was looking out for you far more than just as a senior, but as something more. “You said last time you wouldn’t be so harsh,” You joke after mustering the courage after fixing your posture and your eyes reclaiming Hoseok’s.

Hoseok chuckles softly, “If I knew you couldn’t take it, I wouldn’t say it,” He remarks gently before turning on his heels beside you. “You’re practicing for the partner stage within the comeback, right? Then you should do it properly.” His voice lowers ever so slightly when he speaks, “With me.”

This hadn’t been the first time you had practiced with Hoseok. Early morning practices often consisted of him arriving at roughly the same time each day, if not earlier, with his small critique prior to him opting for a more hands-on approach. You saw it as nothing more of a senior looking after his junior, but Hoseok saw it as far more than that. How could he not when you were this cute without realizing it?

He wanted to ruin you.

Your thoughts melt away when you feel Hoseok’s hands settle onto your waist, pulling you closer to him as the two of you make eye contact. The way that he looks at you, his pupils slightly dilated with an intensity you can not quite discern, makes you let go of the breath you had not realized you were holding. How come it never felt like this when you were dancing with the actual backup dancers?

“Your leg should rest on my hip, like this,” Hoseok says as he purposely tucks his hand in the dip of your waist to press your waist against him. He’s warm to the touch, much like the sun itself and you have to bit back the blush that threatens to paint on your cheeks. “There, you’re doing good. You’ve always been good at listening.” He praises you as he guides you through the next move. Each moment you spend closer to him has you nearly buckling in the knees when his voice tickles your ear. Did he have any clue what the hell he was doing to you?

You may not have realized it, but Jimin ultimately did. The shorter man has grown familiar with the scene as he tucks his bag under his arm and lingers by the door to watch. He’s not surprised that Hoseok had shown up an hour early for practice in the wrong practice room when he leads you across the room. Jimin has to wonder if being attracted to you is infectious when it seems he is equally infatuated with you. Perhaps even more than Hoseok.

Jimin chuckles to himself as he pauses the music and leans against the door frame with an amused grin. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you two were star-crossed lovers.” It’s almost biting the way your face changes of recognition when your eyes meet Jimin.

You immediately pull away from Hoseok to bow deeply to Jimin out of respect, “It’s not like that. He was helping me-“

“You should let me help you too,” Jimin almost pouts as he repeats the familiar action of discarding his jacket and strolling over. “I can dance too, you know?” He teases as he notices the chuckle that Hoseok had been holding back. Both of them found you being flustered adorable, especially when this normally wasn’t like you. What happened to the alluring siren on stage? They practically craved to have you put them in their place.

Unlike Hoseok, your history with Jimin runs deeper than your ties to BigHit Entertainment. The younger man had known you at your lowest point, kissed away your tears on the night that your first group, I.O.I, had disbanded after the project’s deadline came and went.

You had never mentioned it, but you remembers the last night in the IOI dorms like it was yesterday. You had never wanted to know the pain of your group disbanding again. You had called Jimin that night because you didn’t know who else to call. Somi had been crying in the bathroom for hours, saying how it felt like SIXTEEN all over again, and you could only console your dongsaeng for so long. Kyulkyung and Nayoung already were going to be debuting in PRISTIN with eight other girls as though IOI never existed and was another project group. The time zone left you unavailable to call you parents and Jimin was all you had…

“I’m always going to be here, you know that, don’t you?” Jimin had whispered into your ears as his fingers gingerly stroked your cheek. He looks into your eyes, hoping that your words give some semblance of comfort when your heart ached to no return. How many times would it be that you had to build yourself up to be strong just for everything to fall apart outside of your control?

You sniffle when Jimin makes you look into his eyes, “I-I-I know,” You stammer out as you try to regain your control over your emotions, but it hurt. It hurt so bad that your head was pounding and it felt like you could hear the blood rushing to your ears. “It just.. I just want it to stop hurting, Jimin..” You grip the fabric of his shirt as though he were the one person in this world that piece you back to gather.

“It will take time.. but I will be here until the very end.. you hear me?” He whispers as he stares into your eyes. His soft monolids drip honey when they meet yours. “YN-ah… look at me.”

With a sniffle, you nod, “I am.. I am…” You whisper as your eyes scan his own. You never quite realized how long his eyelashes are or the way he holds the entire galaxy in his eyes up so close. You never have clung to him this much either, so it leaves you a bit breathless when Jimin says nothing for a while, just admiring you. “Jimin?”

“Mmm?” He asks as he does his best to wipe away your tears and not think about how pretty you look right now. He was here just to comfort you, but why can he not stop himself from looking at your lips? From thinking about how badly he wants to help you forget and kiss you?

“You’re pretty,” You say simply as you sniffle slightly and wipe away a stray tear with your sleeve.

“You’re prettier,” He tells you with a soft laugh as his thumb brushes against her chin. He wonders how close it would be for him to close the distance between the two of you with just a kiss.

Jimin has always complimented you, reassuring you of your every perfection, but this time he seems to mean it a little bit more as he presses you tighter against his chest to hold you close.

“Jimin…” You whimper as you hug him closer to you. “Please.. please help me forget,” you whisper softly for just the two of you to hear.

So without thinking, you cup both of his cheeks to close the distance between the two of you. Your arms snake around his shoulders to pull him closer as his arms instantly wrap around your own waist. He is warm to the touch, but fits like a perfect puzzle piece.

Jimin can not say how many times he had thought of this moment - the way you would fit around him like missing puzzle piece. The way he would kiss away every worry from your pretty little head as his hands bunch up the sweatshirt at your waist as he would kiss up your stomach before peppering kisses along your thighs. He’s dreamed of what it would feel like to finally hear your soft moans for him and him alone, but he still holds back as he lets you take the lead. Especially when you are this sensitive.

His lips are soft and pouty; they feel like the inside of a rose as his jaw slacks to let your tongue brush against his own. The taste is sweet with a bit of a tangy flavor: much like that of strawberry lemonade when each finger that presses against your side feels like keys being paid against a piano. For the first time in a while, things feel stable, sure, certain.

You’ve never wanted anything more in your life. You have no doubts as your hips grind against his own on the floor of your dormitory. His moans are soft each time your hips rhymically brush against the hardening tent within his pants. You like this reaction from him, the way his hips buckle into your own as your own teeth begin to nibble along his plump ones to elicit another mewl of pleasure from him. He feels like a dream, the way his hold on you tightens to bring you closer to him ; a sneaky hand that brushes along your hip to graze against the strap of your bra and tug it down in anticipation. You’re thankful that your door is locked in case one of your fellow members were to walk in on you grinding against your best friend after a fit of tears. God, you want him. You want him. You want him.

“YN-ah….” He groans as you begin to paper kisses along his neck. “I.. I want this… you have no idea how badly I want this… but I don’t want this if you’re just trying to forget,” He whispers as he forces you back to look at him. “Do you understand that?”

You grow silent as you watch his chest pant up and down in excitement. You know he wants it as badly as you do. You would be a fool to not see the way that he looks at you like you are the only one in the room. But you feel ashamed from how quick you are to close the gap between friends and lovers in the blink of an eye. Would crossing this boundary ruin things for you?

Jimin wonders if you remember those memories as vividly as he does. Sure, it had been a couple of years since that time, but he could not forget the way you fit perfectly around his lips. The memorable roll of your hips that nearly had him crying for him to be inside of you. He could remember all of this when you stared at your figure years later no longer as just friends, but with you as his junior and him as his senior.

Was it incomprehensible that he would wish to cross those paths again?

- - -

Don't be a silent reader! Let me know what your thoughts are! How do you feel about Taehyung not liking the reader very much? What do you think about the reader with Hoseok and Jimin? Let me know your thoughts :)

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Hobbit) Thorin x Reader: Dragonsickness and the Heart

(Author’s Note:  Well, it’s spring, and usually spring gets me in a hobbit/LotR mood, so here we are.  I actually wrote a shameless OC self-insert a few years ago, and decided to just take a section of it an make it a reader-insert.  

Warnings: Thorin acts like a lil creep, but in the end he wouldn’t do anything to hurt reader.  

While under the effects of the dragon sickness, Thorin says some things... You wonder if it’s the sickness talking, or perhaps it is his true feelings coming out.

Enjoy!)

   You struggled with the dwarvish armor, finally letting it fall to the ground. It was much too big and clunky: you could barely stand in it! Thorin had given the order for the Company to armor up, but it didn’t look like it would be possible for you. The clank of metal sounded in the armory around the corner, and you let out an exasperated sigh. You had taken your chosen armor to an empty room to avoid the humiliation as you attempted to try the foreign material on. Even after you managed to finally figure it out, the weight of the metal was too much. You weren’t exactly in the mood for endless teasing on Fili and Kili’s part. Dwalin might even find it humorous and would never let you live it down.

   Footsteps sounded around the corner, and you whirled around to come up with an excuse or explanation of some sort as to why you were hiding away like this. To your surprise, it was Thorin, all armored-up and looking…well…looking pretty good.

   Even with everything that had happened, after how crappy of a person he had become since the dragon sickness took its hold, you were surprised to feel your heartbeat pick up at the sight of him. He entered the dimly-lit room, eyes flickering from you to the bulky armor lying on the floor. He flashed an amused smile that made you feel weak.

   “Trouble?” he asked, pacing over with a raised brow.

   “Uh, y-yes,” you mumbled back, unable to meet his intense gaze. You tried to remind yourself that this wasn’t him. He wasn’t himself, yet it didn’t stop your heart from doing flips in your ribcage. “It obviously wasn’t going to fit. I don’t know why I tried anyways.

   “Because you’re you,” he responded with a chuckle, prompting a nervous laugh from you. He was being friendly, but there was still something off about him. His voice. He spoke in such a low and silky tone, practically laced with dragon sickness. It made you feel uneasy and not necessarily in a good way.

    As Thorin took a step forward, you caught movement in the corner of your eye and flinched out of instinct from being on the road. He noticed and paused, holding his hands up to show that he meant no harm. He only meant to give you something, he said. When you nodded, he rounded the corner until he was out of sight.  Moments later, he returned with a bundle of armor in his hands though these were different from the weighty pieces you had already tried. He handed you the iron shoulder plates first, and you marveled at the simple designs cast into them.  They looked as if they’d been made just for you.  Judging by the warmth in Thorin’s eyes, they had been.

   “These should suit you better.”

   You tentatively accepted the shoulder plates, fiddling with the leather straps that would hold them in place. You tried putting your arm through one loop as if it was a sleeve, but it felt wrong, so you tried a different angle, a different loop…

   As if reading your mind, Thorin took and unbuckled it. “Here.” 

   You gulped as he carefully took your arm and put it through the correct loop. Each movement he made was slow and drawn out, and you wondered for a minute if he was doing it on purpose just to make your heart race. It wasn’t doing anything to help the situations of your one-sided love towards him. You resolved to accept the rest of the armor politely and go find another hidden room to figure it out on your own, but as soon as the shoulder plates were secure, Thorin proceeded to strap on a chestplate.  Then he continued with a sort of metal shin guard.

   “There,” he said finally, checking some of the straps to ensure they were in place. “You will be much better protected.”

   “Yeah,” you murmured, releasing a breath.  “Thank you.”

   He gazed at you, placing a hand on each of your shoulders. “I will do all in my power to make sure you are safe.” Your eyes widened as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. “You should know I have grown rather fond of you, _________.”

   You remained still, absolutely shocked at the unexpected statement. It felt as if your body wouldn’t respond.  Surely, he doesn’t actually mean what he says? It must have been some strange effect of the dragon sickness, right?  

   You had joined the Company early in the journey in hopes of changing the ending.  You and Gandalf had an understanding that you would gain the Company’s trust and use your knowledge of Middle-Earth to ensure the line of Durin survived.  From the moment you appeared on the dirt path in front of the Company in your modern clothes feeling lost and uncertain, Thorin hadn’t taken much interest other than to bark orders to you or spare a disdained glance at you and Bilbo at your “softness” when it came to life on the road. 

   Over time, you learned to place your trust in the Company and to do your part so they’d trust you- including Thorin.  He and you had started to bond, especially in Lake-Town when you’d spoken to each other outside in the snow during the celebration of the dwarves’ return to the mountain.  You even managed to make him smile a few times.  You realized that as Thorin had begun to trust you, you trusted him not only as a leader but as a friend, and your affection grew beyond what you’d originally thought.

   Still, you wondered if perhaps it was all in your head.  Thorin had seen you as young and naive early on, but that was only because of your inexperience in the world of Middle-Earth.  Things had changed.  Perhaps they had changed more than you thought?

   Thorin’s breath disappeared from your ear as he pulled away to circle aroundyou, the armor clanking with every step. You were frozen to the spot, but your lips managed to form words.

   “What about Balin? You told him that you felt nothing for me and that you were focused on the quest.”

   An eerie chuckle echoed from behind. “I told Balin what he wanted to hear. I told him that so he would not question me any further on the matter, but the truth remains…” His voice sounded right behind you. “I care about you.”

   He was saying what you wanted to hear all along, and yet it felt so wrong now. This wasn’t the real Thorin, right? You could not possibly accept this declaration of feelings knowing that he would snap out of it soon enough.

   “W-we should go join the others…”

   His arm snaked around your waist, earning a gasp from you. “I love you, ________, and I want you to say you feel the same.”

   “Thorin, I can’t. You’re not yourself. The stress of the Arkenstone and the battle must be affecting you.”

   “My own kin has betrayed me. One of them has taken the Arkenstone. Please, do not  turn away from me as well. Say you love me. Be my queen.”

   You were left breathless by his words. He had released you from his hold and circled back around to stand in front of you. Thorin leaned in, eyes flickering to your lips briefly. It was beyond tempting. All you had to do was lean in a few mere inches, and you would feel his lips on yours. It was what he wanted, and it was what you wanted…

   “I have to go,” you stated, putting some distance between the two of you. Thorin’s lips pulled down in a frown as you stepped around him.

   “You’re making a mistake,” he called over his shoulder.  “An offer such as this will not come again.”

   You hesitated at the doorway, shaking your head. “Then so be it.” And then you left. You didn’t dare look back as you hurried down the halls to get as far away from him as possible. He was crazy. Insane.

   And so are you for turning him down, a small voice screamed from within your mind. You could have been his, even for a short time. You could have had his love, even if it was twisted.  His kiss. His embrace… It could all have been yours if you had just said so.

   But it was wrong, and you knew it, to take advantage of his situation.

   “Bilbo!” You halted when you rounded a corner and almost collided with him. “Where are you off to?”

   He glanced around to make sure no one was near, holding a long rope coiled up in his hand. “I can’t just stand by and do nothing. I am taking the Arkenstone to Bard to use for bargaining. It’s the only way the people of Lake-Town will get their fair share.  Hopefully, we will avoid war.”

   “That’s a great idea. I’ll cover for you while you’re gone.”

   “Thank you, ________,” he whispered gratefully. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

   You pulled him into a quick hug. “Be careful. I’ll see you later!” You parted ways with the hobbit once more, him heading for the front gate while you lingered in the corridor. You felt so alone, standing there. None of the dwarves could understand the situation.

   It wasn’t the time to tell Bilbo what had occurred with Thorin.   It would be yet another dark secret to weigh on you for now, along with the possible fate of the journey.

   That night, the dwarves talked and laughed by the fire as usual. Even though they had all of Erebor to go off and choose a room from, the Company still liked to gather together to share a meal and camp out just like old times. Fortunately, Thorin never participated, spending his days and nights in the throne room. You joined the group, glad to have something take your mind off of the recent events. Bofur led the group in a few songs, Fili and Kili told jokes, Nori and Dori bickered and teased each other, Ori laughed along with Bombur, Bifur, Oin, and Gloin.

   Balin and Dwalin were in a more solemn mood, but couldn’t help cracking a smile every now and then. At some point, the dwarves started sharing stories of hilarious hardship over the course of the quest.

   “But don’t you remember the time in the beginning of the journey when we had to cross that river?” Bofur asked with a grin, earning a few bursts of laughter. “Quite a few of us took a plunge that day!”

   “I lost a lot of supplies,” Bombur said with a nod.

   “And what supplies you did have left was soaked!” Bofur laughed, slapping his knee.

   “I do recall the stew being soggier than usual that night,” Gloin joked.

   “Or what about the afternoon when _________ quite literally got sick of traveling?” A teasing grin spread across Kili’s face. “She jumped off of her pony to go throw up in the bushes.”

   “Hey! I felt terrible that day!” you protested playfully. “Besides, it’s not like I had ever ridden a pony all day every day for weeks before.”

   “The best part was that Thorin scolded her anyway for holding the Company up,” Fili chuckled.

   “Well, I’m pretty sure I remember a time when you and your brother were supposed to be watching the ponies and nearly got us all eaten by trolls when we had to go find them.”

   “Ooh, that’s cold,” Kili feigned offense, unable to hide the amused grin. 

   “You don’t miss a thing, lass,” Bofur teased.

   “Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, still smiling. No one asked about Bilbo, or wondered aloud where he was. The hobbit had been spending more time alone as of late, so it wasn’t unusual for him to not join them for dinner. He would return before dawn, you knew, but as each hour passed that evening, you became a little more anxious.

   You managed to set aside your worries and let sleep overtake you. You fell into a deep sleep, and a certain dwarf king haunted your dreams that night.

[demarogue]

A Lily on Thy Brow basic plot summary, theme and spoilers

Alright I didn’t want to do this because I hate to spoil my stories, but that annoying argument with the bad-faith reader made me realize I need to clarify some things. 

So, the fic is here – A Lily on Thy Brow

It is tagged “Tamlain” because of something I will divulge below the cut. It is NOT a ship. Maybe I need to tag it differently, but I am not sure what a better tag would be in terms of preparing the reader. I admit to being lousy at tagging.

Tamlin gets both redemption and comeuppance in this story. It is NOT a defense of Tamlin. I am not glossing over what has happened in canon with either Tamlin or Elain. Exploring the theme of “what we deserve” is part of why I am writing this at all. 

FWIW, If you google the title and discover what it’s alluding to, you might get an idea where I am headed with this thing without needing a bunch of spoilers. 

This was my note for chapter 1: I think Elain is really interesting and I wanted to write about her. I think her relationship to Spring and all Feyre's observations in the books about that relationship are interesting. I think the place we left Tamlin is interesting. So I mostly just wanted to mess around with those ideas and try to write something pretty and achey and a bit raw about this as-yet undeveloped character and everyone's least favorite High Lord.

More details below.

I’m going to get more specific and spoilery as this goes on, so I guess stop at whatever point you’re satisfied. 

The first thing I’ll say is that the fic is about politics/the world of Prythian as much as it is about the characters. It’s also really about Elain, and much less about Tamlin.

The setting is post-ACOSF. Tamlin’s been running around in his beast form instead of ruling, and the spring court is suffering for it. Since Spring is such a strategically important Court for many reasons, the IC decides they have to intervene to get it back on its feet. Basically nobody makes sense to send except Elain, and it is her idea to go. 

She has ulterior motives for going. I hint at this a lot from the very beginning of the fic.

Elain is able to do something none of the others can do – lead Tamlin. She is able to do this precisely because she is subtle, and practical, and politically savvy...and, crucially, she is NOT his girlfriend. She is able to set her personal feelings about him aside in order to accomplish her goals. Their “relationship” in this fic is still going to be angsty and characterized primarily by shame around past actions and inaction, the impossibility of trust, and the certainty that any kind of promise would end in betrayal. It’s Complicated. They learn to work together toward this common purpose of restoring Spring. 

There will be a kiss but it won’t be romantic. This kiss and Tamlin’s conflicted feelings toward Elain are why it is tagged Tamlain. They do not end up together romantically. If anyone has a better suggestion about how to tag this fucker, I am all ears. 

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NOW FOR THE BIG SPOILERS.

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Stop reading if you don’t want to know the ending.

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Tamlin does not know why he feels so drawn to Elain, until she reveals that it is because she is the heir of Spring, and Spring is eager for her to replace him. This is also why he felt what he felt for Feyre. In her visions, Elain has seen that much of this was destined to happen, though the specifics have not played out as they could have.

The kiss is a mechanism for the transfer of Tamlin’s powers to Elain. As a Made Fae loved by the Cauldron, aka the vehicle of power and Fate in this world, Elain is able to take her fated place as High Lady of Spring (and something like a goddess of life/growth/CHANGE/REBIRTH for all Prythian) while sparing Tamlin’s life. This is neither justice nor mercy, but grace. Tamlin must sacrifice the power and responsibility that have become his curse (a reminder that in Beauty and the Beast, the Beast was cursed to be the way he was, and his power as a beast was part of the curse) in order to have the chance to be something else. In his new role he is tasked with enforcing the treaty between Prythian and the human realm, protecting the border with his restored order of guards/knights. He learns how to serve the greater good. It is a relief. He had never wanted to be High Lord.

Romantically speaking, at the end Elain’s options remain the same as in canon – Azriel or Lucien – and she is, at least for now, alone. I’m debating a sequel fic, probably set pretty far in the future because I like the idea of her waiting a while to figure out who and what she is before selecting a partner, but that’ll depend on if I’m able to finish this thing or not.

[gryffindors-weasley]

Only You

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: Even though the odds seemed to be stacked against the two of you, you always find little moments.

Warnings: mild angst, fluff and kisses

(not my gif)

The lavishly designed ballroom was filled with just about every Slytherin within the wizarding world, the select ones chosen by his mother anyway, joined together for no particular reason other than to bask in their luxuries. Above all else, this carefully chosen group of individuals felt as though they were superior despite the events of the war.

Draco has stopped believing that thought to be true long before this night, having little to no interest in subjecting himself to thoughtless conversation with his parents many acquaintances. Especially not when such conversations inevitably carry the undesirable subject of the Dark Lord. He never wanted to utter a word about him. As far as he was concerned, the war concluded nearly five years ago and the threat was gone. He found there to be no reason to talk about him anymore. Not one of them had ever asked how he had been doing, or anything personal about him for that matter. Though with more thought, he doesn’t believe he’d ever divulge that information to them.

He wanted nothing to do with this, wanted to strip away his title as the Slytherin Prince and the awful mark on his arm that came with it. It wasn’t worth it in the slightest. However, his parents were not privy to this information, nor had they asked if he wanted any of this. He didn’t hold any malice toward Slytherin as a whole, but the things it’s put him through were something he’ll never forget.

He finds he’s grateful these kinds of events are very few and far between, but there’s never specific dates set in stone for them. It always takes him by surprise whenever his mother appears in his bedroom doorway informing him of such a thing, telling him to wear his best suit and not to leave his hair be as unruly as it had currently been. They’re the only times of the year that the Manor isn’t filled with silence save for the ticking of the clocks and the tap of his fathers unnecessary walking stick. He’d prefer it to this. The silence is much less nauseating than the constant clinking of glasses and humorless laughter, but it seemed to be of the few things keeping Narcissa happy while her husband was in Azkaban. He’d much rather hide away in the privacy of his room with a book than to be there, he’d only been standing along the same wall for the last forty-five minutes anyway.

Though subtly, he could sense something different, whether everyone else had been aware of it he wasn’t sure. But he knew exactly the cause and he found himself setting down the overly expensive goblet he drank from on a nearby table, slipping out of the large room with a cautious gaze over his shoulder. Not a single person had batted an eye at his absence, not that he expected them to. For being so important as the Malfoy heir, no one ever seemed to notice him.

His strides were quick and purposeful as he navigated the dimly lit halls, gaze flickering around every darkened corner he passed by. Nothing ever seemed to make him feel quite so excited as you did, even if your visits were far riskier for your safety than he’d like. But his heart leapt in his chest in anticipation as his instincts lead him where to go, hoping you’d actually be there rather than his gut feeling being false. Though any break, large or small, from that terribly boring formal event was one that would suffice. But he’d rather it be with you. He’d always rather be with you.

Arriving at the large mahogany double doors, he gave one final look at his surroundings for wandering gazes and prying eyes. He made his leave through the door on the right hand side to be specific, having learned from his numerous late night rendezvous’ that the left has got the noisy hinges.

He made his way down the old stone steps, taking in the expanse of the garden before him as the fresh air hits him. It takes a bit of searching before he spots what he’s looking for.

There you stood, hand lightly sweeping along the delicate petals of the numerous flowers residing in the large garden. Your dress was rather fitting for the summer evening, flowing and casual, holding far more color than the sea of dark green and black attire filling the entirety of that ballroom. It was a contrast to the suit he wore, which was comparable to the night sky he stood beneath.

“Love?”

You turned around, smiling warmly at the sight of your beau. The space between you was quickly closed as you rushed over, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“What are you doing here?” He continues, brushing a few stray strands of hair behind your ear with a gentle swipe of his fingertips before he settles his hand to rest on your cheek. He watched as your expression changed from fond to that of a playful one.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you don’t want to see me,” you say, tilting your head to the side with a raised brow. His expression was quick to change at your words, eyes widening a fraction in mild panic.

“No!” He rushes, pressing a kiss on your lips that was very much not rushed, rather one of reassurance as his fingers splayed across your cheek. “All I want is to see you. But if anyone finds you here, I don’t know what would—”

His flustered explanation is promptly silenced by your lips once more, any form of tension beginning to dissipate from his body as he relishes this very moment. One he feels is over too soon when you part, a teasing smile on your lips.

“That always seems to be an effective way of shutting you up,” you quip as you laugh softly, tracing the pad of your thumb along his lightly flushed cheeks. Despite the very cute fact that he was blushing, he rolls his eyes at your very true remark, resting his forehead on yours. “Besides, the moment you told me about that ball it was all the more reason to come and see you.”

His smile is almost unseen in the close proximity, his arms encircling your waist in an embrace so tight it sends you stumbling back a step or two with a squeal. Soft kisses were peppered on your neck, leaving hushed laughter in their wake. He basked in your very presence, soaking in every second he had with you as if it was his last, all while hoping there’d never be a last to worry about.

“I believe I’m supposed to be the knight in shining armor saving you, not the other way around,” he says with a soft smile when he looks at you again. The moonlight makes his gray eyes sparkle, his platinum hair seeming silver-like in the natural lighting. He seemed to have abandoned his mother’s wishes of styling his hair for the event. Regardless, the happiness adorning every inch of his face was something only reserved for you.

“When have I ever followed the rules?”

He gives you a fond look in answer as his smile widens, letting go of your hands and you frown as he leaves your side momentarily. You watch as he inspects the vast floral arrangement in front of him, and he plucks a single flower from its rightful spot amongst a sea of others similar to it, offering it to you with a softer grin. It was not a rose, he felt that would be too cliche. He didn’t know the specific name for this one but it was not a rose. His mother wouldn’t notice just one flower missing, at least he’d hoped not. But the way you beamed at him made any and all repercussions worth it should there be any.

The flower was bright, it’s petals colorful and ruffled and rather beautiful. He felt it was symbolic to you. Of the light you brought to his life, making his otherwise black and white outlook on the world turn to one that’s full of color and promise. And of course he thought you were the most beautiful person he has and ever will lay his eyes on. To him that was a known fact, one that was not open for debate.

He watched as you smelled it, a pale blush just barely visible coloring your cheeks at the sweet gesture.

“Do you know what a pink hydrangea means, Draco?” You ask softly, your arms resting around his neck.

You always seem to know a little something about everything, he thinks to himself.

“Do enlighten me, love,” he murmurs distractedly, his breath tickling just under your ear.

You laugh quietly at the sensation, your heart fluttering when he pressed a chaste kiss there. It had stolen your train of thought for only a brief moment, his mere presence intoxicating, but the delicate flower in your hand quickly jogged your memory. “When given to someone, a pink hydrangea is said to symbolize sincere emotion and love.”

He pulled back to look at you, a gentle smile adorning his lips as his eyes took in every inch of your face. The rosy tint in your cheeks deepened a shade as his thumb traced along the curve of your bottom lip, his eyes glinting with what could only be adoration.

“I knew I was drawn to it for a reason,” he says, dropping his hand to envelop your own. The cold metal of his ring sent a shiver along your spine despite the warm summer evening. “Because sincerely, darling, I am completely and madly in love with you.”

Without hesitation, you lean on your toes and press your lips on his, fingers carefully tangling in the platinum hair at the nape of his neck. It felt as though your heart was bursting in your chest, set aflame at his very words. Or how it somersaulted as he held you as close as he possibly could.

“I love you,” he whispers between soft kisses, again and again, until he’s too breathless to continue.

“I love you,” you murmur with a kiss to his nose, then to his cheek, and another to his lips. “Completely.”

The blush traveling up his neck is immediate, his toothy grin a rare sight in recent days but it was one you never failed to bring out. He never fully understood how he deserved the affections of someone he deemed to be the most wonderful person he’s ever known, he knows he’ll never grasp that concept. But it’s one he finds himself fortunate for with every day that passes with you.

The echoed sound of his name tugs him from his lovestruck daze and has him turning to look over his shoulder, dread pulling at his heart when he turns back to you. He grasps your hands in his own with a lingering squeeze, sighing deeply as he gazes at you. “Wait here for me?”

In that moment, he swears to himself to start looking for other places to reside in, perhaps a place of your own now that you were no longer just two kids in love. Surely he had enough savings to do so because he was growing tired of loving you in secret.

You nod at the soft question, a silent promise and he kisses you once more. He’s unwilling to let you go, always was, but moments pass before he finally does and he turns away as he walks. Though he finds himself looking back to cast one last glance your way before apparating to a place much less obvious to the person who’d called him, hoping his kiss swollen lips aren’t terribly noticeable.

No matter who disapproved, you’ll always have those little moments.

[wtf-yoongi]

Close your eyes. I’m your paradise. / MYG

pairing | yoongi x reader

summary | a whole thing about yoongi kissing you and you kissing him and yeah

genre/warnings | it’s soft, intimate and a lil suggestive but nothing crazy

words | 942

note | started thinking about this and then had to write it down and then one thing led to another and i’m so so sorry in advance

There’s something about the way Yoongi delicately holds your face in his hands before kissing you.

It’s always soft despite the touch of his calloused fingertips on your skin. Yoongi takes a light breath and stares into your eyes intently, waiting for your approval before slowly leaning in, inch by inch. It’s calm even when he doesn’t want it to be, soothing to your senses just before they catch fire. 

It’s predictable, but never boring. You know exactly what’s coming when he hums your name in a low, almost inaudible voice. Or when he softly nudges you, turning your body to his so you’re face to face. Or when he covers your back with his torso and leaves a small giggle on the curve of your neck before his arms encircle your middle. You just know.

You’ve learned to pick up Yoongi’s hints over the first few months — just like he found out all about yours. By studying each other meticulously, every single nerve ending and skin surface to register only the ones that caused the biggest impact. He’s an analytical person and pays special attention to detail, to the things people don’t usually care about or even notice. Yoongi knows if, what and how you want it by the way you stare back into his eyes, the way chills run down your spine or how you grasp his shirt in your hands.

Actually, his hands are an interesting subject. They are the most unstoppable part of his being, simply busy all the time. They’re always fidgeting, playing, touching, counting, working, typing. All the time, non-stop. And as much as you love them doing any of those things, you like them better when they’re unstoppable on you.

That is exactly when your insides catch fire and he knows it — when a hand lazily leaves your jaw to touch elsewhere. Yoongi does it on purpose, yes, but also because he can’t keep his hands from moving downwards. Maybe it leads to nothing more than an innocent kiss, but it doesn’t matter. It is there, commonly found caressing your covered waist, sometimes your arm or lower back. Either way, his hand soon finds yours to first hold it tight and then, if the timing feels right, to direct it to where he wants it to be — where he wants it to touch, where he needs it the most.

That’s also how you know his if, what and how. Simple as that.

Tonight, from the moment Yoongi stares into your eyes, he knows. Some sort of unspoken deal is made right there, just before he closes the gap between you. After a busy and tiring day, you’re not quite sure how far it’s going to go, but you both need to be taken care of a little. Just a little. Slowly. Gently. Lovingly. 

He loves it. Yoongi could spend hours doing nothing but casually kissing your lips, creating a distance every now and then just as your breathing starts to become irregular. He loves the way you frown when he does that, loves to know the effect he has on you, loves to feel your heartbeat accelerate and slow down repeatedly right on his ribcage.

Yoongi also loves the shy smile that follows that frown. But he’s not the only one with someone wrapped around his finger. Oh, no. Not even a little bit.

You can still remember the first time your teeth lightly grazed his bottom lip. It wasn’t anything you had planned or done to get a reaction out of him — at least the first time around. He hissed under his breath, separating only to ask you if you wanted to drive him insane. Yoongi had a mischievous smirk on his face and, deep down, that was when he knew he was done for. There was no escaping you — and he was completely fine with that. 

It is really not your fault that he has a habit of showing off his bottom lip. You knew it from day one you would have some sort of difficulty with the way Yoongi always seems to make it pop up more. It is almost as if all his perfect features always end up pointing to his lower lip — you’re drawn to it like a magnet and you need it. It is just an added benefit to know he is weak for lip bites.

So that’s how it goes tonight. It’s lazy to the point your hands are barely moving on him, choosing to find a spot underneath the loose shirt he wears to sleep and just stay there. They don’t wander about like they usually do when you have it in you, but apply pressure every so often to let Yoongi know they are there, at least. Enough to make his stomach flutter a little.

His movements are not much different from yours. Slow. Lazy. Careful, but knowing exactly what to do. In addition to his tongue gently asking for permission and a hand that slides to the nape of your neck, Yoongi takes small backwards steps in the direction of the bedroom. They’re so languid you think it will perhaps take five minutes just to cross the living room — and maybe it does, but you honestly can’t keep track of time. The sole thing you can focus on is his lips and only because you delicately bite on his lower one and giggle when he loses it and whimpers lowly.

Yoongi pauses, both hands stopping themselves at the hem of the shirt you’re wearing just as that infamous smirk is once again making an appearance. “You really just live for that, don’t you?”

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[elvish-sky]

Say That Again {Legolas x Reader}

A.N: Do I really like this fic? Yes, I do. Will I possibly be re-writing it and turning it into a multi-part? Yes, I will. Thank you so much to the two Anons who requested this- I kinda went a little off of your exact requests, so I hope that’s ok, but I was super inspired by them. I’m very proud of this, and I really hope you all like it!

Requested by Anons on Tumblr: Can I request a Legolas x reader fic where the reader is an archivist for the library in Mirkwood and Legolas begins to visit more often just to see the reader? Over the months, they get very close and eventually end up confessing/sharing a small kiss, and the reader whispers, “I love you.” afterward. Legolas, having not heard those words directed towards him in a long time, is breathless. then, shyly, he tells the reader to say it again😶

and

Hey! I love your writing, by the way. I know you probably get a lot of these, so no pressure, but I was wondering if I could request a Legolas x reader fic? maybe where the reader is like an archivist/librarian for the woodland realm, and Legolas is doing research on the sickness in his homeland. together, they both find that Sauron has returned, and become really close over the time they’ve spent together. maybe the reader could join the fellowship with him? it’s just an idea based on a fic I read a while ago. you could do what you like with it, but I thought you could turn it into whatever you like. Thanks!

Word Count: 1,431

Pairing: Legolas x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, other than that I think that’s it. 

****

Say That Again

You sat curled up in your favorite chair in the back corner of the library and began to read, taking a break from your work. You were an archivist for the Library of the Woodland Realm, and you loved your job. Books were one of your favorite things in life, and so it was only natural for you to work in the library. Not only was it full of tomes of knowledge, but it was also absolutely stunning. Like everything else in the kingdom, it embodied nature, with smooth sweeping arches of stone and vines trailing along the walls. There were cuts in the stone to allow sunlight to brighten the dark, and the dust shone in the sunbeam on your table that was also illuminating your (h/c) hair, making it glow.

You looked up as someone plopped into the seat across from you. Legolas, Prince of the Woodland Realm, had started visiting the library rather suddenly several weeks ago, looking for answers about the blight and darkness that were spreading through the forest. Shocked at first about how much he cared about the forest, and then even more so at how interested he was in you, it had been rather awkward at first. He was the prince, and you were just another elf, of no importance. Despite your differences, you had become fast friends, although you had wished for more since you had first laid eyes on him, years ago. 

He slammed a thick book down onto the table. “I think this one may contain the answers!” You glanced at the title. Blights of Nature and Their Causes. As much as you did not want to get your hopes up, this one looked promising. 

“Where did you find this?” you flipped open the cover, admiring the pretty endpapers. Whoever had authored this book had clearly taken the time to make sure it was presentable.

“In the ‘Ancient Lore’ section, the top of the last shelf.” You could tell he had been in the far reaches of the library, he was absolutely covered in dust. You absentmindedly reached out to brush off his shoulder, making him blush, but you quickly withdrew your hand once you realized what you were doing. 

“What were you doing back there?” 

“I figured that we’ve had no luck looking in the places where it would make sense to find answers, so I looked in a place where it wouldn’t make sense.” 

You chuckled at his explanation. “That may be the least-well thought out reasoning I have ever heard.” 

“Nevertheless, this one might be it. I mean, it mentions blights in the title! What’s happening outside is definitely a blight.” 

You could understand his excitement. You had been looking for some sort of explanation for weeks, and the darkness was only spreading. You bent over the book, head bowed next to his as you poured over the pages together.

Sometime later, you awoke, hearing a gasp, to find your head resting on Legolas’ chest. You were somehow lying between his legs with the book resting on your stomach as he peered at it over your shoulder. “What is it?” you responded to his cry, blinking groggily. “I think I’ve found something.” Your eyes scanned the page he was on, flying across the words as you searched for what he meant. They came to a rest on the line A spreading of darkness in a forest, and an infestation of dark creatures, often herald the arrival of dark sorcery. 

“Dark sorcery?” you glanced up at him, your worry mirrored in his eyes looking back at you. 

“It makes sense,” you could feel his mind spinning, sense his brain questioning, searching for an answer. “But what sorcery is strong enough to corrupt the Woodland Realm?”

 “I do not know,” you replied. “But I fear for all our safety against one this powerful. We must learn who is doing this.” 

“I know of someone who may be able to answer our questions.” Legolas strode into the library the next morning with a purposeful air. You looked up from your work. He was wearing a tunic and leather boots, like always, and his hair loose except for those two small braids on either side of his head. He looked, to put it simply, absolutely wonderful. But then, when did he not?

You were sure that you didn’t look half as put together- you had spent the whole night after he left-which was admittedly not much, he had stayed pretty late- pouring over ancient manuscripts and old texts, trying to find mention of any sorcerers powerful enough to corrupt a whole forest. You had found nothing, and looked rather worse for wear.

“Who?” you were frantically attempting to rein in your unruly hair as you spoke.

“Gandalf the Grey. I sent him a bird last night and he replied, he has found something most troubling and thinks it may be related. I’m traveling to Rivendell today on unrelated business and he’ll be there, so I’ll ask him then.” 

Now you were busy brushing out your clothes and picking lint off of them. Legolas looked at you, eyes drawn from where they had been steadily focused on the wall behind you by your frantic movements. “Y/N, what are you doing?” He grabbed your hand. “I’m just… nothing.” You looked down in embarrassment, eyes firmly fixed on his boots. “You’re primping, aren’t you?” “Well, it’s not fair for you to just tramp in here looking perfect all the time!” You stepped back from him, realizing what you had just said. “Well, you- uh- you don’t look perfect, per se, more like… well put together!” 

Your self-conscious stammering had just made you feel worse. “Look, Legolas. I’m sorry. I very much did not mean to say that.” “It’s ok, Y/N. I do look pretty great.” He did a little twirl to show off just how great, and you felt the blood rush to your cheeks again. 

“Now, Y/N, you might want to go upstairs and grab some things for the road if we want to be out of the forest by midday.”

“Wait- I’m coming?”

“Of course, Y/N! You didn’t think that after all of the help you gave me you wouldn’t be included when we finally get our answer?” 

Sheepishly, you nodded.

“Ok, well, go pack. I’ll put these books back and be waiting ready to go.”

“Thank you, Legolas!” you exclaimed as you turned to the door. “Love you!” 

“What did you just say?” Legolas spoke, and you spun to see him, face pale with shock, leaning against your table. 

“I said thanks.” It had been a passing comment, and you didn’t remember saying anything else. Until you did. “Oh, shit!” you clapped a hand over your mouth and internally smacked yourself. If he did not dislike me for my oddities before, he’ll hate me now, you thought. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Legolas. It was just a slip of the tongue, it meant nothing…” you trailed off as he stepped closer to you.

He grabbed your chin in his hand, gazing into your eyes. “Say that again.” 

“It meant nothing?” you were so very confused. 

“No, Y/N. The other thing.” He looked mildly exasperated with you now but was still gazing at you with that peculiar expression on his face.

“I love you?” you stammered, wondering if that was, in fact, the right thing to say. 

“I love you too, Y/N.”

With this, his hand on your chin guided your lips to press against his. Finally, you thought as you melted into the kiss, surrendering yourself to him. You had wanted this for so long, and now it was finally happening. Your hands were tangled in his hair like you’d wanted them to be ever since you’d first met him. One of his was supporting your neck, and the other was wrapped around your back, pulling you closer into him.

Panting, you broke away. “I should go pack. We want to be on the road soon.” He nodded, seeming to come back to reality. “I’ll be waiting here when your ready, melleth nin.” He said the words to your retreating back, and as you heard them you smiled. Spinning around again, you strode back to him and grabbed his shirt to pull his lips down to yours. “We can wait ten more minutes, right?” “Of course.” He kissed you again, and you lost yourself in him, his arms wrapped around you, holding on to each other as you would be for the rest of your lives. 

Everything tag 💖: @entishramblings @boyruins @itgetsatadhazy @anjhope1

Legolas tag: @sheriffgerard

[diavolodigitale]

Dream Sequence. Lucio

It’s been a while since I had so much fun writing something. No plot, really, it’s a pretty light read and I am proud of it.

All parts of the trilogy: Lucio - Asra - Julian - All stories in PDF

A part of the "trilogy" about dream encounters dedicated to Lucio (because I love him, apparently). Nothing special, just You (or the Apprentice, or the Reader, however you view it) and Lucio spending some time together (if you know what I mean, which you probably don't, so go ahead and read it, it's pretty short, I promise). My character was male, but you are free to imagine whoever you want since there are no references to it in the text.

Genres: Romance, Fluff, Humor, Dreams, POV First Person, One-shot, Light-hearted

Pairing: Lucio/Apprentice(or Reader or You or Whatever)

Characters: Lucio, Reader/Apprentice/You

Rating: G for Geez that’s a good story

Size: around 2500 words

I open my eyes and look around. The room I am in is quite spacious. Despite barely containing any decorations or even furniture, somehow it still feels inviting and cosy. It is dimly lit, the only light sources that I can spot are a few candles standing here and there.

Suddenly, I hear a loud thud, as if something heavy fell on the floor, and I hastily turn around to investigate. I immediately spot an empty decanter lying on the ground at the leg of an old wooden table and a figure crouching beside it. The figure looks like it’s glowing in the darkness of the room because everything about it is so brightly white.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” says Lucio awkwardly and stands up, cradling the decanter in his arms. “Or did I?” he immediately proceeds to ask, roguish smile plastered on his face.

I smile in return and shake my head. This is probably another dream we’re sharing. It happened a few times before. There is no logical end to it, no specific purpose, nothing. We just seem to linger in an accidental place, surrounded by whimsical decorations or nothing at all, until one of us wakes up and cuts the ties to this place rendering it forever lost in time and space. I suppose it has something to do with our connection as the spirit of Lucio seems to be drawn to me whenever I slip out from the deep slumber and see dreams.  

“And why would you want to do that?” I ask and cross my arms, raising my eyebrow inquiringly.

“Isn’t it obvious? If you’re scared, you will seek my protection and want to hold hands. Maybe, even more than that,” he responds without even a hint of embarrassment and casually puts the decanter back on the table.

“Oh, you would need to do more than that to scare me, don’t you know?” I say playfully. This encounter doesn’t seem to differ much those we usually have, so I decide to behave as I always do around him.

“What a shame…” he says and pouts, hardly being able to supress his impish smile. “I was hoping I could find a reason to hold you.”

“Since when do you need a reason to do that?” I ask as he slowly approaches, his walk as gracious as ever.

“Huh, true,” he says and grins, now standing much closer to me. There is not enough light in the room for me to see the features of his face clearly, but I am nevertheless able to spot the playful glim in his eyes.

“What do you feel like doing this time?” I ask more seriously. We’ve been on quite a few thrilling trips in my dreams as they are often filled with peculiar apparitions and location, but right now I cannot find anything that could interest Lucio with his insatiable appetite for adventures.

“Hm…” He puts an index finger to his lips and musingly looks around. As I expected, nothing in the room is able to pique his curiosity so his gaze wanders back to me.

“I have an idea,” he says mischievously and immediately covers my eyes with his hand for a second. When his hand is removed, the only thing I can see is complete darkness.

Intrigued, I summon a small glowing orb to light up the place. To my surprise, we are in a completely different room that resembles a closet more than anything else. The place is a tight squeeze, with Lucio standing right before me and the orb hovering above us. Though we’re not actually close enough to be touching, there is hardly enough room to move around at all.

The room quickly fills with heat and I feel my head spinning. The feeling of almost tangible warmth around me reminds me of the time I first met Lucio. His presence had the same effect on his surroundings, which seems to be the sign of him being agitated or excited about something. My gaze is wandering from his jawline to collarbone and back since I don’t want to stare him directly in the eyes. Lucio might be shameless, but I immediately feel flustered in such a situation.

“You are quite a fast learner,” I say nonchalantly, looking up for a split second. He grins even more, flattered by my words.

In spite of his utter incapability when it came to using magic in the real world, he somehow was able to learn to manipulate matter in my dreams quite easily. There was rarely a need for him to resort to this skill, but his still tried to use every opportunity he had to give it a try.

“I can do many more things,” he says and moves closer to me, resting his heavy gilded hand against the wall right above my head and leaning a bit closer. “You know, I am very talented.”

I nod and look down. The orb illuminates every little detail of his face, and I am afraid he is provided with the same sight of mine, so I do my best to hide my flustered expression. I find the position we are in uncomfortable, but I am also curios to see what he has on his mind.

Lucio leans even closer, propped up on his arm, and starts whispering into my ear.

“Have any plans for tonight?” he asks, his eyes narrowed in a cunning smile.

“No, not that I am aware of at least,” I reply. “What are you up to?”

“Well, I was thinking we might find a monstrous beast for me to slay…” he whispers, tickling my ear with his warm breath, “I would look exceptionally good swinging its ugly head left and right, with a few light wounds here and there and covered in its blood. Or we might show up to an extravagant ball and have the time of our lives there. We could demonstrate the public our best, most elaborate dance, and they would cheer and applaud, flabbergasted at our awesomeness and grace.”

I chuckle a bit at how unsurprisingly flashy his suggestions are. But it is usually my job to tease him, so I can’t let him beat me so easily, even if I seem to be much less at ease in such… circumstances.

“Your idea certainly sounds entertaining,” I mutter and slide my hand down his side and onto his waist.

“Wh– which one exactly?” he asks, visibly taken aback by my display of interest.

“Both of them, actually,” I say, as my hand wraps around him and pulls him a tad closer.

Lucio’s face blossoms with light-pink and he lets out his breath with a loud sigh. The air of confidence he always has around him disperses in a matter of seconds every time I unexpectedly agree to play by his rules. He just cannot get used to it for some reason.

“And… which one would you chose?” he asks carefully, moving away from my red ear to steal a glance at my face. He is a bit taller than me and stands so close that it’s hard for me to look at anything else except for his squinted eyes and blond locks of hair framing his face.

I pull him even closer, pressing him to me and squeezing his side, and rest my other hand on his cheek. His face is growing redder every second and he starts to squirm a little, trying to avoid my gaze and the intimacy he seems to still secretly enjoy.

“I believe, I have an even better idea,” I say, smiling, and raise my hand to cover his eyes for a split second.

Before he has the time to protest, we are back in the room we first appeared and it is hardly different from the way we left it. I release him from my grip and give him a light push on the chest. With nothing to grab on his way down, he helplessly falls onto the bed behind him, a startled “Ah!” escaping his lips.

I smile, savouring the look of surprise on his face, and approach the bed.

Lucio is flushed but doesn’t seem to mind losing control over the situation. Invitingly, he reaches out with his hand to me, but I shake my head and climb on the bead on top of him without his help.

The bed is incredibly soft so I doubt he felt any discomfort landing on it. It reminds me of the one I saw in Lucio’s old chambers, only in its pre-catastrophic state. The cover is pleasant to the touch and seems to be crimson, but it’s difficult to discern the colour in almost complete absence of light in the room.

“You’ve got something red on your cheeks,” I say playfully and run my hand over the side of his face. It’s warm, hot even, and I feel the muscles twitch on his face as he smiles at me.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” he says casually, “when I felt you were here, I ran with all my might to get to you as fast as I could (and had to cover infinitesimal distances, of course) so now I might feel a little too warm.”

I quickly land a kiss on each of his cheeks, pressing him more with the weight of my body, and he laughs merrily, trying to catch my hands in the process.

“There’s something here as well,” I say and kiss Lucio on the tip of his nose.

He tries to escape my touch and turns away, giggling, so I kiss his ear shell which is even redder than his face now.

He struggles playfully a bit, but it doesn’t feel like he really wants to win this fight. I stop to look at him, and he returns my glance without a second thought. His hands are resting on my thighs and he moves them up and down carefully.

“You’re as light as a feather,” he notes, tilting his head, “we need to start feeding you properly. What is your favourite food?”

I take a second to consider my answer.

“Bread. With spices,” I reply, remembering fondly the times Asra and I would go to the bakery near our shop and enjoy the heavenly taste of freshly baked bread.

“Then it’s decided!” says Lucio excitedly and lands his hands on my thighs with a clap. “When I’m officially reinstated as the Count, I’m going to buy you all of the bread I can find! No, the whole stall! No, wait, the whole street! I will buy you a whole street worth of shops with all the bakeries you want!”

I cannot help but laugh at how foolishly he behaves. He pouts and turns away, trying to pretend that he lost interest in me.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I say, still laughing. “I am truly sorry, Your Highness. How could I ever make up to what I have done?” I ask inquisitively, observing his face.

Lucio’s eyes spark with mischief again and he pretends to be thoughtful before proceeding to say what has been on his mind, perhaps, this whole time.

“I might forgive you if you lend me a hand for something. There seems to be something wrong with me…” he says worriedly, but I am not buying into his act. “Something wrong…” he repeats, slyness becoming visible through his cracked façade of seriousness. “It’s become so hard to breathe, I am almost suffocating… Could you please help me with this problem? Pretty please?” he says and dramatically rests his hand on his neck. I look into his eyes full of fake innocence and nod with understanding.

Lucio moves his hand away and starts watching me with unhidden curiosity and excitement. I carefully touch his chest which is rising and falling steadily and, to my surprise, notice, that his coat is buttoned up more than usually. It even makes me think that it really might be hard for him to breathe as he is definitely not used to walking around like this.

I go ahead and start untangling the lace that holds his cloak. I feel soft fur brushing against my hand as I purposefully tinker with the clasp much longer than is really needed. Lucio is growing visibly impatient but seems to do his best not to hurry me. I, in turn, try to hold back my laughter.

Having delt with the cloak, I proceed to unbutton his jacket. The fabric is very delicate, and I again take my time to tease him instead of just dealing with it quickly.

Lucio loses what was left of his patience and opens his mouth with a frown of unsatisfaction.

“What’s taking you so long?”

I look up at him as if he was a child with which I had to reason.

“We wouldn’t want to damage your magnificent attire, would we?” I ask and airily brush my finger against his bare chest that is now partly exposed. “Better proceed carefully.”

He flushes again because of my touch and appears to be at a loss for words. In the end, he just swallows loudly and pretends he did not want to say anything in the first place.

I occupy myself with the buttons again, and this time he waits almost patiently until I finish torturing him. Every time I “accidentally” land my hand on his skin instead of the soft fabric, I feel his pulse quickening, and every time I am forced to bite on my lip to hold back my treacherous smile.

Once I am done, Lucio exhales with relief. I don’t know what he expects me to do next, but suddenly an idea flashes in my mind and I already know I just have to do it.

With his eyes half shut and mouth a little agape, he watches as I delicately lay my hands on his sides and stroke him. It looks like he wants to say something, but I don’t give him a chance as I begin to tickle him violently, running my fingers along the skin between his ribs.

Lucio struggles and kicks below me but cannot do anything to escape my attack. He breathes erratically and I hear his muffled giggling when he jerks up from the bed and presses his body against mine to give me no room for movements. I decide to spare him and hug him instead, wrapping my hands around his neck.

“Well, that didn’t help me at all!” he exclaims jokingly, hugging me back and burying his face near my collarbone. His gilded hand is stroking my back and it feels a bit ticklish because of how sharp the tips of his fingers are, but I decide not to complain as it is more pleasant than anything.

I nestle closer and start twirling a strand of his hair around my finger. He has calmed down and I can hear him breathing steadily against my chest.

“I wish we could sit like this forever,” he says quietly.

“And who told you we can’t?” I ask, and he looks up at me, astonished and puzzled. “Show me who said that and I’ll give them a nice thrashing!” I say and it makes him laugh again.

“Not if I do that first!” he exclaims and plops back onto the bed with me startled but still securely held in his arms.

“I’ll be there to watch then,” I say, resting my chin on my arms crossed on top of his chest.

“Of course, you will! Why else would I do that?” he asks with indignation. “You just watch me. Don’t watch anybody else, just me, okay?”

“Oh, I would never…”