#the song choice...immaculate
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sunugf · 7 months ago
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sunwoo ig update (240413)
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rigginsstreet · 2 months ago
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This feels right. You're just lonely, Tim. No, I'm not.
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damconcha · 2 months ago
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and what if i go through my 3k+ op edits on tiktok, compile a giant list of them and scream about them into the void what then
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pretentiouswreckingball · 8 months ago
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can u make a possum playlist pleek :)
I sure can possum baby <3
p -> Push It (glee cast version)
o -> One Love(people get ready) (glee cast version)
s -> Smooth Criminal (glee cast version)
s -> Sweet Transvestie (glee cast version)
u -> Uptown Girl (glee cast version)
m -> Misery (glee cast version)
Send me your name and i'll make a mini playlist with the letters in your name
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renrapp · 2 years ago
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there is so much to unpack here
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starlightkun · 8 months ago
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damn those txt boys know how to do a rock/pop punk/emo concept......
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valyrfia · 7 months ago
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top 5 songs at the moment!
Good Luck, Babe! - Chappell Roan
Forever - Noah Kahan
Creatures in Heaven - Glass Animals
Espresso - Sabrina Carpenter
Davy Jones - Hans Zimmer
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harpydrawsstuff · 8 months ago
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Doodles from Paris :)
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stood-onthecliffside · 2 years ago
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might i suggest you don’t fuck with my sis ‘cause she comfortable!!!
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actuallyjustabiscuit · 5 months ago
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Ragatha to 00 (someday hopefully):
🎶I got a taste of love in a simple way
And if you need to know why I’m still standin’
You just fade away~🎶
i feel like she's the type that exponentially gains more confidence if she's behind a microphone . girl likes to sing
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also this was supposed to be assigned to a song but i didn't know which to choose so . just have them
" i'm still standin' ! ( yeah , yeah , yeah ! ) "
" so - don't stop me now ! "
" hit the road , jack ! "
" dream a little dream of me ! "
" don't you worry 'bout a thing ! "
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skinzchoerim · 8 months ago
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Kyubin really is the number one Do Hyunbin apologist and I love that for him
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 year ago
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Can you do Conrad with ‘’Is that my shirt?’’
This was the only gif I could find with this shirt...
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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It had been thirty minutes since you, Taylor, and Belly settled in front of the TV, yet the three of you couldn't come to a unanimous decision on which movie to watch. Well, truth be told, the indecision was mainly between you and Taylor. Belly was happily munching on popcorn, seemingly unfazed by the movie debate.
‘’Mamma Mia,’’ Taylor exclaimed, advocating for the musical movie choice once again.
However, you were quite tired of musicals and Taylor's less-than-perfect singing renditions, especially after enduring La La Land the night before. 
You shook your head. ‘’No, let’s watch 10 Things I hate about you.’’ 
It was one of your favorite movies. You weren’t a huge fan of rom-coms, but the romance was not too cheesy and the soundtrack was immaculate. Kat’s character was also iconic. You’ll never get tired of watching it.
But Taylor persisted, insisting that Mamma Mia would be a perfect summer movie. She looked to Belly for support and the look on Belly’s face told you you were about to lose this debate.
‘’I haven’t watched Mamma Mia in a long time…’’ 
Feeling somewhat defeated, you let out a sigh, realizing you were outvoted. ‘’Mamma Mia it is then,’’ you reluctantly agreed.
Taylor happily set up the movie, grinning and singing along to all of the songs. 
You were half way through it when the front door opened and the boys returned from their party, making a lot of noises as always. 
‘’Seriously, can you guys keep it down? We're trying to watch a movie here,’’ Taylor scolded them, clearly irritated by their untimely return.
‘’What movie?’’ Steven asked, making his way into the living room, seemingly eager to pester Taylor further.
‘’Oh, is that Mamma Mia?’’ Jeremiah’s face lit up, going off and belting one of the songs as he poured himself a glass of milk in the kitchen. 
You couldn't help but laugh at Jeremiah's enthusiasm. He truly was the life of the party. 
‘’It’s girls only, get out,’’ Taylor asserted, determined to keep their movie time uninterrupted.
‘’I want to watch it too,’’ Steven and Jeremiah protested, plopping themselves on the couch next to Belly and attempting to snatch the popcorn bowl from her.
‘’Absolutely not,’’ Belly retorted, holding onto the popcorn tightly, not willing to share.
Steven's attempt to mockingly tease her was met with a sharp comeback from Taylor. ‘’Did you grow tits while you were at the party, Steven?’’ 
Everyone burst into laughter at Taylor’s witty remark, even Conrad who just entered the living room, walking over to the other end of the couch where you were sitting. 
He sat on the length of the chaise, stroking your bare legs as he leaned in for a quick kiss. 
‘’Did you have fun with the boys?’’ you asked, your attention no longer on the movie.
Conrad shrugged. Being the designated driver sucked…and so did that party. No wonder they came home so early. He would have prefered to stay here and hang out with you, but you had already made plans with the girls. 
You stretched and laid your legs over his lap, settling comfortably into the couch. Conrad shook his head, but didn’t say anything. He liked the weight of your legs over his, the casual intimacy of it. 
Your attention was brought back to your friends when Jeremiah and Taylor began dueting ‘Lay all your love on me’ as if they were part of the movie. Taylor still couldn’t sing, but Jeremiah wasn’t too bad. You smiled at them, amused by their antics, and Conrad smiled back at you, his eyes full of affection as his fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin. 
A few scenes later, his attention was drawn to the navy Cousins rowing shirt you were wearing, and he raised an amused eyebrow. ‘’Is that my shirt?’’ he inquired with a grin, realizing it belonged to him.
You hummed. It was slightly oversized on you, but incredibly comfortable. ‘’We went swimming and I wanted something comfortable to wear after.’’ And it smelled like him. ‘’I hope you don’t mind.’’ 
Conrad shook his head. ‘’It looks good on you.’’
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goddessofvalyria · 3 months ago
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RIDE OR DIE pt.1 | Aemond Targaryen x fem!oc
PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3
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Summary: Aemond Targaryen is the owner of a famous strip club, the Blue Pearl. One night he visits the club and asks for the best girl, unaware of the consequences of his choice…
TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns, the fem!oc is named Maddy with long brown hair and blue-green eyes, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, SMUT, sexual tension, sex, sex, sex, Modern Aemond in Modern AU.
English is not my first language, be kind <3
This is my Masterlist
Words: 4122
The Blue Pearl is buzzing with its usual electricity, the low hum of conversation mixing with the sensual rhythm of the music. Tonight, though, there's a different kind of tension in the air. Word has spread quickly among the dancers that Aemond Targaryen —the elusive, powerful owner of the club—has made an unexpected appearance.
The dancers steal glances toward the VIP section, where Aemond Targaryen sits, his presence commanding the room without a word. He's dressed in an immaculate black suit, his silver-blond hair slicked back, the eye patch covering his left eye only adding to his enigmatic allure. He surveys the club with a cool, detached air, but there's a sharpness in his gaze, a sense of control that radiates from him.
Madame Sylvie, the woman who runs the girls, is quick to act. She approaches Aemond with the confidence of someone who’s been in this business for years, yet with the respect that his position demands. "Mr. Targaryen," she greets him, her voice smooth. "What can we offer you tonight?"
Aemond’s gaze doesn’t waver as he responds, his voice low and authoritative. "The best girl you have."
Madame Sylvie nods, not missing a beat. "Of course, her name is Maddy"
She knows exactly who he wants, who the best is. Without another word, she gestures for Maddy.
Maddy is the club’s jewel. With long, flowing brown hair and mesmerizing green-blue eyes, she’s the sexiest, most sought-after girl at The Blue Pearl. Her beauty is unmatched, but it’s her confidence, the way she moves, that truly sets her apart. Men pay top dollar for just a few minutes of her time, and tonight, she’s about to perform for the boss himself.
As the song "Ride or Die Pt. 2" begins to pulse through the speakers, Maddy steps into the private room where Aemond is waiting. The space is dimly lit, the flicker of red led casting a warm glow over the luxurious surroundings. She’s dressed in a stunning set of lingerie—an expensive bra and thong adorned with Swarovski crystals, loose hair, high heels amd each movement sending a shimmer of light dancing across her skin.
Maddy knows the stakes are high tonight. Aemond Targaryen isn’t just any client; he’s the owner, the man behind the empire that is The Blue Pearl. But she doesn’t let it show. With a sultry smile, she begins to move, her body swaying to the rhythm of the music. Her dance is a seductive blend of grace and raw sensuality, every step calculated to entice, to captivate.
Aemond watches her with an intensity that makes her skin tingle. He’s silent, his expression unreadable, but his eye never leaves her. There’s a predatory edge to the way he looks at her, as if he’s assessing every detail, every movement. Maddy can feel the weight of his gaze, the way it seems to strip her bare, even more than the delicate lingerie she wears.
She twirls and arches her body, the crystals on her outfit catching the light, reflecting the opulence of the room. As she drops down low, her hands sliding up her thighs, she locks eyes with Aemond. For a moment, the world outside the room ceases to exist. It’s just the two of them—the dancer and the boss—caught in a dance that’s as much about power as it is about pleasure.
Aemond’s expression remains stoic, but there’s a subtle shift in his posture, a slight leaning forward as if he’s drawn closer by an invisible force. Maddy notices, and it fuels her confidence. She knows she has his attention, knows she’s living up to the reputation that Madame Sylvie has built around her.
The song reaches its peak, and Maddy’s movements become more fluid, more intense. She’s a vision of temptation, her body moving in ways that are both hypnotic and provocative. She ends the dance by crawling slowly toward him, her eyes locked on his, a wicked smile playing on her lips.
As the last notes of the song fade into silence, Maddy rises to her feet, standing before Aemond with a poise that belies the heat of the moment. She doesn’t say a word—she doesn’t need to. Her performance has said everything.
Aemond finally speaks, his voice as cool and composed as ever. "Well done, Maddy" he says, his tone carrying a note of approval that’s rare from him.
Maddy smiles, a small, triumphant curve of her lips. "Thank you, Mr. Targaryen."
Aemond stands, his tall frame towering over her as he reaches into his jacket pocket. He pulls out a thick envelope, placing it on the table beside her with a finality that suggests their encounter is over. But as he turns to leave, he pauses, looking back at her with that same intense gaze.
"I’ll be seeing you again."
With that, he’s gone, leaving Maddy standing alone in the private room, the soft glow of the red lights still flickering around her. She exhales slowly, the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. Aemond Targaryen might be the boss, but tonight, she had been the one in control.
As the door to the private room closes behind Aemond, Maddy takes a moment to compose herself, the adrenaline from the dance still buzzing in her veins. The thick envelope filled with money he left behind is a reminder of the power she holds, but it’s the lingering tension in the air that captivates her thoughts. There was something in the way he looked at her, a flicker of something more than mere approval.
Just as she’s about to leave the room, her phone buzzes in her clutch. She pulls it out, surprised to see a number she doesn’t recognize. Instinctively, she knows who it is.
"Maddy," comes Aemond’s low, controlled voice when she answers. His tone sends a shiver down her spine.
"Mr. Targaryen," she replies, letting her voice drop to a husky purr. "Did I leave you wanting more?"
There’s a pause on the other end, a silence heavy with intent. "Come to my office" he commands, but there’s a softness in his voice that wasn’t there before. A hint of something more personal, more vulnerable.
Maddy smiles, a slow, knowing smile. "Are you asking, or are you telling me?"
Another pause, longer this time. "I’m asking," he finally says, the admission sounding like it costs him something. 
She feels a rush of satisfaction. "I’ll be there in five minutes."
The walk to Aemond’s office feels longer than usual, each step echoing with the unspoken tension between them. When she reaches the heavy, oak door, she hesitates for just a second before pushing it open. Inside, the room is dimly lit, much like the private room, but there’s a different energy here—something more intimate, more charged.
Aemond is standing by the large window that overlooks the city, his back to her. The moonlight casts a silver glow over his form, highlighting the sharp angles of his shoulders and the precise lines of his suit. He doesn’t turn around when she enters, but she knows he’s aware of every move she makes.
Closing the door behind her, Maddy saunters across the room, her hips swaying slightly with each step. She knows how to use her body, how to command attention, and right now, she intends to use every ounce of that power.
"You wanted to see me?" she asks, her voice silky smooth as she stops just a few feet behind him.
Aemond finally turns to face her, his expression unreadable, but there’s a tension in his posture, a tightness in his jaw that betrays him. "I wanted to talk" he says, but his voice lacks its usual firmness.
Maddy tilts her head, letting her hair cascade over one shoulder. "Is that really all you wanted, Aemond?" she teases, deliberately using his first name, stripping away the formalities.
He doesn’t respond immediately, his gaze locked on hers, as if searching for something he can’t quite find. The intensity in his eyes makes her heart skip a beat, but she doesn’t let it show. Instead, she takes a step closer, her hand reaching out to lightly brush against his chest.
"You were watching me so closely during the dance," she whispers, her fingers tracing the edge of his lapel. "I could feel your eyes on me, like you were trying to memorize every move I made. Did you like what you saw?"
Aemond’s breath hitches, and for the first time, she sees a crack in his composed exterior. "Yes," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I did."
Maddy smiles, a seductive curve of her lips as she closes the distance between them. She can feel the tension radiating off him, the way his body is taut with restraint. Her hand slides up to his neck, fingers lightly grazing the skin just above his collar. "Then why don’t you show me?"
He looks at her with a mix of longing and hesitation, the usual confidence in his gaze replaced by something more raw, more exposed. "Maddy," he begins, but his voice falters. He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. "Please."
She raises an eyebrow, her smile widening. "Please, what?"
There’s a vulnerability in his expression now, a need that he can’t hide, no matter how hard he tries. "Please... kiss me."
The request is soft, almost desperate, and it catches her off guard. She hadn’t expected him to surrender so easily, but there’s something disarming about it, something that tugs at a part of her she didn’t know existed.
But Maddy doesn’t let the moment slip away. Instead, she leans in slowly, letting the anticipation build as her lips hover just inches from his. She can feel his breath on her skin, warm and unsteady, and she knows she has him completely under her control.
When she finally closes the gap, her lips brushing against his, it’s soft at first—tentative, almost tender. But then Aemond responds, his hands coming up to grip her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepens. There’s a hunger in the way he kisses her, a desperation that surprises her, but she matches it, letting herself get lost in the heat of the moment.
Her fingers tangle in his hair, and she feels him shudder beneath her touch. The power shift between them is palpable, the dynamic from earlier now reversed. He might be the boss, the man who runs The Blue Pearl, but right now, he’s the one begging for more.
When they finally pull apart, both of them breathless, Maddy looks up at him, her heart pounding in her chest. Aemond’s eye is dark with desire, his usually controlled demeanor completely shattered. 
"Is that what you wanted?" she whispers, her voice laced with both seduction and something softer, something she hadn’t intended to show.
Aemond nods, his grip on her waist tightening slightly as if he’s afraid to let her go. "Yes," he breathes. "But it’s not enough."
Maddy’s smile returns, a slow, seductive curve of her lips. "Then I guess we’ll just have to see where this goes" she murmurs, leaning in to kiss him again, this time with all the intensity she had held back before.
Because in this game of power and seduction, she knows she’s already won.
୭̥⋆*。
The next evening arrives with an unexpected twist. The Blue Pearl is closed for the night, its usual lively energy replaced by an eerie stillness. No patrons, no music, just the empty halls of the club shrouded in darkness. But for Maddy, the night is far from over.
Madame Sylvie calls her earlier in the day with a specific request. "Maddy, Mr. Targaryen wants you tonight," she says, her voice leaving no room for negotiation. "He’s willing to pay handsomely for your time. It’s just one more private dance."
Maddy hesitates, glancing around the cramped apartment she shares with her older sister and their sick mother. The bills are piling up, and the money Aemond Targaryen offers could make a difference. With a deep breath, she agrees, knowing this isn’t just about the money—it’s about something deeper, something that has been building between them.
As the evening comes, Maddy prepares herself, slipping into a simple, yet provocative outfit—nothing but black heels and a delicate thong. Her long brown hair cascades freely down her back, a sharp contrast against her bare skin. Tonight, the stakes feel higher, the tension thicker.
When she arrives at The Blue Pearl, the silence inside is almost deafening. The club’s usual pulse is replaced by an intimate, almost surreal atmosphere. The only light comes from the dim glow of the overhead fixtures, casting shadows that dance across the empty floor. 
Aemond is waiting in the center of the main room, seated in a leather chair with an air of calm that belies the tension simmering just beneath the surface. He’s dressed in a dark suit, his sharp features highlighted by the faint light. His presence fills the room, commanding attention even in the silence.
Maddy approaches him with deliberate slowness, the click of her heels the only sound echoing through the space. When she stops in front of him, she sees the way his gaze rakes over her body, the hunger in his eye unmistakable.
Without a word, the music begins—a slow, sensual beat that fills the room, creating a private world for just the two of them. Maddy starts to move, her body swaying to the rhythm, every motion deliberate and controlled. She knows what he wants, knows the power she holds over him, and she uses it to her advantage.
Her dance is a blend of elegance and raw seduction, every movement designed to entice. She can feel Aemond’s gaze on her, the way it follows her every curve, every turn. There’s a tension in the air, a charged energy that makes her heart race. But she doesn’t falter. Instead, she loses herself in the dance, her body a perfect instrument of temptation.
As the song reaches its midway point, Aemond shifts in his seat, his hand subtly gesturing for her to come closer. There’s a command in his motion, but also a plea—an unspoken request that she can’t ignore.
Without hesitation, Maddy steps forward, her eyes locked on his as she climbs into his lap. She straddles him, feeling the heat of his body through the fabric of his suit. Her hands rest lightly on his shoulders, her face just inches from his. The tension between them is almost unbearable now, a taut string ready to snap.
Aemond’s hands find her waist, holding her as if she might disappear at any moment. His voice is low, almost a whisper, but the desperation in it is unmistakable. "Please, Maddy… kiss me."
There’s something in his plea, something vulnerable and raw that cuts through the air. For a moment, Maddy just looks at him, seeing not the powerful owner of The Blue Pearl, but a man stripped bare by his own desires. She hesitates, feeling the gravity of the moment.
Then, without another word, she leans in and presses her lips to his. The kiss is soft at first, almost tentative, but it quickly deepens, fueled by the pent-up emotions between them. Aemond responds eagerly, his grip on her tightening as if afraid to let her go.
The world around them fades away, the music, the empty club—all of it disappears, leaving just the two of them lost in the moment. Maddy can feel the intensity of his need, the way it mirrors her own, and she gives in completely, letting the kiss consume them both.
When they finally pull apart, both are breathless, their faces flushed with the heat of the moment. Aemond’s eye is dark with desire, his control shattered, replaced by something far more primal.
Maddy smiles, a slow, sultry curve of her lips as she leans into whisper in his ear, her voice barely more than a breath. "Is this what you wanted, Aemond?"
He nods, his voice hoarse as he replies, "Yes, but I want more."
Her smile widens, and she kisses him again, this time with all the intensity she’s held back. Because tonight, there are no rules, no boundaries—only the raw, unfiltered connection between them. And in this moment, they both know there’s no going back.
Maddy is excited, on top of him she feels the center of her legs moist, the wet thong and Aemond's fingers, exploring her naked body. Aemond moves her hair behind her back, she on top of him is a divine vision. Maddy moves her hips over those of her boss, she feels the hard erection in his pants. She starts to unbutton his shirt, she kisses him on the neck, Aemond's chest is hard and with defined muscles, his toned arms. Between her thighs she is soaked, it almost hurts her, she continues to kiss him while Aemond with both hands squeezes her breasts and stimulates her already sensitive nipples. Maddy moans under his touch, she whispers his name and he encourages her to do so by increasing his movements.
Aemond sighs, he is so excited that his masculinity hurts. Maddy looks at him with hungry eyes, moves her hands to his belt who nods and ends up taking off his boxers and pants. His erection is big, hard, veiny and his balls are sore and full. Maddy wraps her hand around his length and moves it gently, slowly she gets up from him kneeling in front of him.
"Look at me, Mr. Targaryen" she whispers persuasively, then she licks him, takes him between her lips, all the way to her throat. She sucks him all the way down, between her legs she feels so wet it's hard to bear. She wants to put a hand between her thighs and pleasure herself, the man under him is simply extraordinary, beautiful, dangerous. Maddy squeezes her thighs together, rubbing them. Aemond notices this and even though he is lost in pleasure, he signals her to get back into his arms. Maddy nods, Aemond brings his hands to her hips and slides her thong off. "You're so wet" he whispers, but then he gets up. "Sit on the chair" he orders, she does as he orders. Aemond kneels in front of her and then he bury his face into her wet thighs.
She can’t stop it, it feels too good.
She can’t help but sob under him, watching him desperately as his hips begin to grind against her face, his nose hitting your bundle of nerves each time. Without warning, his long index finger slides inside her, eliciting a small cry of pleasure, mixed with a little pain from the sudden stretch. His finger begins to pump in and out of her gently, his lips trying to ease her pain and apparently it works.
“Aemond, Aemond, oh, Aemond!”
Aemond makes her come on his lips and fingers, Maddy's legs tremble with pleasure. "Sorry" she whispers embarrassed, but Aemond retorts. "You have nothing to apologize for, pretty girl" he stands up, Maddy stands up and looks at him: naked, with his hair loose, the body of a God.
Aemond offers her his hand, Maddy stands up, his hair covering her body in such a sensual way. Aemond sits on the chair, invites Maddy to climb astride him. "Ride or die, remember pretty girl?" he teases her, takes his erection covered by a condom in his hand and Maddy slowly climbs into his arms, lets herself go down on him. He is big, invasive, fills her up to her ass. She rides him, places her hands on his chest, Aemond tightens his hands on her thighs. She is wonderful, heavenly, she is simply his.
The way her pussy grips his cock and tightens around him makes him lose his mind, hitting deeper and deeper inside her until, finally, he hits that spot that makes her scream his name and moan loudly. Maddy begins to see stars with him hitting that spot over and over again, making her completely drunk on him. She feels an incredible knot in her belly as she moans under him louder with every thrust he gives her.
"So fucking good, so fucking tight for me" he praises her.
"Oh god, Aemond" Maddy whispers against his neck holding him tight before her pussy tightens around him. "From today, you will perform only for me" Her own words and the feeling of her nails scratching his back send him over the edge itself, burying his face in her neck, biting her as he comes and fills the condom, releasing his hold on her.
The once-empty club now feels like the most intimate place in the world, their connection deeper than either of them expected.
The soft light from the overhead fixtures casts a warm glow over them as they lie together on the plush seating in the center of the main room. Aemond holds her close, his arm draped around her, his breath still ragged from their lovemaking. Maddy, nestled against his chest, feels a strange mix of contentment and curiosity. 
For a while, they just lie there in comfortable silence, but eventually, Maddy’s gaze drifts to the patch over Aemond’s left eye. She hesitates for a moment, then softly asks, "Aemond… will you take off the patch?"
Aemond tenses slightly, his body going still beneath her. It’s a vulnerable request, one he’s not used to. He’s quiet for a moment, and she can feel the conflict within him. But then, with a slow exhale, he nods and reaches up to remove the patch.
As the patch comes away, Maddy’s breath catches in her throat. Where his left eye should be, there’s a brilliant sapphire, glowing faintly in the dim light. The gemstone is beautiful, mesmerizing, yet also a stark reminder of something painful.
She reaches up to touch his face gently, her fingers tracing the edge of the sapphire. "What happened?" she asks softly, her voice filled with genuine concern.
Aemond looks at her, his expression more open than she’s ever seen it. "My nephew… when we were younger, he assaulted me. It was a cruel game, a show of power. This…" He gestures to the sapphire. "This is what was left."
Maddy’s heart aches for him, for the pain he must have endured. But more than that, she sees the strength it took to survive, to wear that sapphire as both a reminder and a shield. "Aemond," she whispers, "you’re wonderful. You don’t need to hide this from me."
Aemond’s eye searches hers, looking for any hint of pity or disgust, but all he finds is acceptance. It’s a rare thing for him—someone seeing beyond the scars, beyond the wealth and power, to the man underneath.
In that moment, something shifts between them. Aemond, who is always so controlled, so guarded, lets down his defenses completely. "Maddy," he begins, his voice softer than before, "would you go out with me? A real date, just you and me."
Maddy blinks in surprise, taken aback by the simplicity and sincerity of the request. "Aemond, I… I’m not rich. I don’t have anything to offer you."
Aemond silences her with a gentle kiss on her lips, pulling back just enough to speak. "I don’t care about that, Maddy. I care about you."
Her heart flutters at his words, and she feels a warmth spread through her chest. She’s spent so long believing that her worth was tied to what she could offer, what she could earn, but here is Aemond, the man who could have anything he wants, choosing her for who she is.
Maddy searches his face, looking for any sign that this is just a game, but all she sees is sincerity. Slowly, she nods. "Okay," she whispers, "I’ll go out with you."
Aemond’s face breaks into a rare, genuine smile, one that lights up his entire expression. He leans in, capturing her lips in a tender kiss, this time filled with a softness and affection that’s different from the hunger they shared earlier. It’s a kiss that speaks of promises, of possibilities, of something real and lasting.
As they pull away, Aemond rests his forehead against hers, his hand gently cupping her face. "You are so dangerous and beautiful" he murmurs.
Maddy smiles, her own hand reaching up to cover his. "You're so sweet."
In that quiet moment, surrounded by the remnants of their passion and the stillness of the club, they both realize that something new has begun—something neither of them expected, but both are willing to explore.
And as Aemond kisses her again, this time with all the love and tenderness he’s kept hidden for so long, Maddy knows that this is only the beginning of their story.
151 notes · View notes
ashtxrie · 8 months ago
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umm screaming crying throwing up pulling at my hair launching myself into the abyss this is NOT okay
when my card declines at therapy so they bring out angst written by vanya:
how you hurt him ☆ ot7
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☆ non-idol! ot7 enhypen x fem! reader �� summary: all the ways that you hurt him (ft. song lyrics) ☆ genre: angst ☆ warning(s): toxic relationship, toxic! reader, mentions of cheating, this is practice for an english project so please bear with me, most of this is very figurative/abstract ☆ word count: 2.9k total ☆ aka enhypen boys as sad love songs, it’s like 1am i will edit later 😭
reblogs and feedback are appreciated!
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heeseung ☆
"why would you ever kiss me? i'm not even half as pretty" — heather, conan gray
was there something wrong with heeseung? what if he wasn't good enough for you? did you think he was ugly? disgusting? annoying? needy?
at the beginning of your relationship, you made it clear to heeseung that you weren't good with words.
"don't worry about it," heeseung had told you. "i'm not good either."
he thought you meant that you found it hard to say "i love you."
what you meant was that you were indeed good with words, just bad at saying nice things to him.
at first he thought he was being ridiculous, a prisoner of his own mind.
he knew you loved him— how could you possibly not?
but if you loved him, why did you say such nasty things to him?
"god, heeseung, you're so stupid."
"i can't believe i'm dating someone like you."
"i'm disgusted with you."
he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth.
what had he done to make you repulsed by him? was he being sensitive?
he hated himself for all of it.
he hated the creeping feelings of jealousy that would suffocate him like a noose to a prisoner whenever he saw you talk to another man. did you like him more than heeseung? what if you wanted to leave him?
he hated how he craved what little kind words you could give him. it was so rare for you to compliment and speak to him gently, so when you did, heeseung was drunk on it.
he hated how insecure he got.
he hated how his mind was a gallow of its own.
he hated how afraid he was.
"you're so pretty," you whispered into his ear.
heeseung's stomach did flips. did you really mean it? was he as pretty as all the other men you entertained yourself with? was that why you kissed him and not them?
did this mean that you really loved him?
heeseung felt something tighten around his neck. not in that suffocating way that made him claw at his skin until he bled as he stared in the mirror asking himself what could be changed, but in the way that made him feel warm all over.
he’d wait at the gallows like a convicted prisoner, he’d stand there proud, ready to say his last words. he’d keep his hands behind his back, he’d admire the brass noose that would be his eternal necklace.
because for heeseung, to be with you, and to love you, was to be helpless.
to love you was to wait like a dog in the cold.
to love you was to eat your every word like it was his last meal.
to love you was to be your prisoner waiting for you to execute him.
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jay ☆
"pretend that we are more than friends, then of course I'll let you break my heart again" — let you break my heart again, laufey
it's not your fault, jay tells himself. it's not your fault that you can't love him.
but at what point does it become your fault?
you knew that he loved you. he'd told you multiple times, shown you a billion other times. anyone with eyes could tell that he was head over heels in love with you. everyone knew.
especially you— you who rejected him time and time again, laughing that he was just a friend to you.
but here you were, pressing yourself up against him, looking at him with lidded eyes and licking your lips like you wanted to eat him. you held his hand against your chest, whispering a soft "good night." jay knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, not with you so close to him, not with the ache in his chest.
it's not your fault that he loves you, jay thought. but it is your fault that you lead him on, that you pretend to kiss him, that you snuggle up next to him knowing that he'd lay down his life for you.
did you enjoy torturing him like this?
what pleasure did you take in constantly making him think that he had a chance with you?
was this how it was going to be forever?
were you always going to keep him waiting like this, just because you knew that he'd stay no matter what?
jay swallowed the lump in his throat.
he couldn't continue living like this, having you play with his feeling like this.
"jay..." you mumbled, reaching out for him. jay was pulled out of his thoughts, his eyes flickering to you. you looked so innocent and peaceful despite himself. how could he ever stop? how could he stop when it was you at hand?
"i'm here," he hummed, throwing an arm around you. i'm always here.
you were warm, and soft, and everything that jay could ever want in a person. your soft breathing brushed up against his cheek.
jay stared at your sleeping face.
would it hurt to pretend that you were more than friends?
he let his eyelids fall slowly.
he could imagine you and him dancing in the kitchen, laughing together as the scent of jay's cooking filled the apartment. jazz music would be playing, and you'd pretend to be an old flapper couple from the '20's, swirling around the cold kitchen tiles.
your words from earlier echoed in his head.
"i love you so much, jay!"
"you're the best."
"how could i ever be so lucky to meet you?"
it made his heart pound in his chest, unable to hide the lovesick grin spreading on his face.
he knew your words meant nothing, that you truly only saw him as a friend.
he needed to stop this delusion now, else he'd be even more hurt than he already was. you broke his heart over and over again, as if it meant nothing to you.
but as you and him twirled around his head, basking in each other's presence, jay couldn't bring himself to let you go.
he'd let you, jay thought. he'd let you break his heart.
as many times as you wanted.
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jake ☆
"the other man will always cry himself to sleep, the other man will never have her love to keep" — the other woman, lana del rey
of course jake knew that he wasn't the only man in your life.
how many times did he lay in bed at night, wishing that it was him that could hold you? how many times did he dream of being the man that could call you his? how many fantasies did he have of marrying you, of giving you the world?
and how many times did he have to remind himself that he couldn't have you— that you already had someone to love?
it made jake feel sick, seeing all the pictures that you posted with you and your husband, hearing all the chatter about your 2-year wedding anniversary, and forcing himself to smile as a tight-lipped "congratulations" fell from his mouth.
but what made him even more sick was how happy he felt whenever you showed up at his doorstep in the depths of the night.
jake couldn't help it.
he couldn't help how his stomach did flips when your hands slithered up his chest, wrapping around his neck as you pressed kisses against his jaw.
he couldn't help how his body moved on its own as he took in the scent of your perfume, his head filling with nothing but you, you, you.
he couldn't help how he craved you, how he was unable to pull away from you, even though he knew you had a husband waiting for you back home.
he couldn't help how for a moment, he could pretend that you were his; for a moment, he could live in the illusion that he was the one that you came home to every night, that he was the one that you woke up with in the morning, that he was the one that you sat at the kitchen table with to discuss your weekly grocery list, that he was the one that you laughed with in the depths of night, that he was the only man that you loved.
but as quickly as it started, you were already out the door, waving goodbye with a sweet smile as if you hadn't committed a crime against your husband.
jake knew the sight of your retreating back better than anyone, and as he closed the door, he'd suck in a sharp breath.
he would deny it over and over, until his words lost meaning.
but he knew the truth.
he was a fool for thinking that he could have you, for after all this time, he was the other man.
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sunghoon ☆
"i bet on losing dogs, i know they're losing and i'll pay for my place" — i bet on losing dogs, mitski
you and sunghoon were never meant to work out, and he knew this.
everyone said that you'd hurt him. he'd seen it with his own eyes, how you bore your bloody teeth and ripped into people like they were your prey, how you barked venomous words at people.
you were a losing dog to begin with, a losing dog that would never truly love him the same way you loved yourself.
and before he knew it, sunghoon realized that everyone was right.
you sunk your teeth into him, feasting on what love he could give you like a ravenous hyena.
but how could he resist you? how could he resist your touch, your warmth, your limited moments of compassion?
wounded, bleeding, scarred, sunghoon staggered away from the killing floor. yet, he was unable to stop himself from turning over his shoulder to see your face.
there was something disgusting he felt, something that made sunghoon nauseous. his stomach churned. and then he realized, he couldn't bring himself to leave you.
because you were a starving dog, thristy for a victim.
because you were a wailing dog, weeping over your kill as if it would atone you.
because you were a losing dog, a dog that sunghoon placed his bets on.
and it was time for him to pay the price of his actions.
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sunoo ☆
"i know who you pretend i am" —washing machine heart, mitski
sunoo wasn't stupid.
he knew it better than anyone, that your heart didn't belong to him. it never did, and it never will.
sunoo saw the way that you yearned, he saw the way that your eyes lit up, he saw the way that you gazed with love in your eyes— all for someone that wasn't him.
so why did you kiss him like he meant anything to you? why did you hold him like he could have you?
he knew why.
"i missed you so much," you breathed against his ear, pressing him against the wall. "so, so, so much."
the taste of your lips was addicting.
you liked to kiss roughly. you liked to run your fingers through his hair and pull it harshly, making him groan lowly against your lips. you liked to slip your fingers up his shirt, making him shudder.
sunoo liked to kiss gently. he liked it when your lips would melt against his. he liked it when you played with the clasp of the silver chain around his neck. he liked it when you pulled away and giggled softly at the lipstick smudge at the corner of his lip.
he didn't like it rough like you did.
but he took it all.
he took it all, because he loved you.
he took it all, even though he knew that you were kissing him pretending that he someone else.
it wasn't hard to tell.
you wore the gold necklace that he gave you, never any of the ones that sunoo got you.
you didn't even blink when sunoo's name was said, but the mere mention of his interests or career had you reeling.
and of course, he liked when you kissed roughly so you were a rough kisser, even though sunoo liked it gentle.
you don't even look at sunoo the way you look at him.
when you said "i miss you," sunoo could tell that you didn't mean it.
you didn't miss sunoo, you missed him. you just missed the attention that sunoo gave you.
he knew who you pretended he was.
but all he could do was look into your eyes, and be reminded of a tragedy: that while you couldn't love him back, he loved you.
"i missed you, too," he whispered back, swallowing the lump in his throat, swallowing his dignity.
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jungwon ☆
"if you need to be mean, be mean to me" — i don't smoke, mitski
to be vulnerable, to be at someone's mercy, to be someone's lamb for the slaughter, was jungwon's biggest fear. he'd die before he'd let someone take advantage of his weakness.
yet as you slipped out of his grip, your once loving eyes turning cold as hands that once held him in your arms became the hands that striked him, all he could do was sit back and take it.
words like daggers into his back, slashing him over and over like he was a sacrificial lamb for a god that could not save him. hot tears would line as eyes as you raised your knife at him, sending shivers down his spine that made him cower into his skin, chanting apologies like they were prayers.
jungwon should run. after all, that was all he spent his life doing.
but how could he escape you when you kissed his tear-stained face? how could he leave you, for when your anger simmered down you cradled his cheek, whispering that you loved him?
it hurt, it hurt so bad.
but if you must destroy him, if you must slaughter him until your killing floor was covered in blood, if you must cut him up into little pieces for your own pleasure, so be it.
he'd follow you into the slaughterhouse, knowing full well that the darkness was the last thing he'd ever see, and jungwon would close his eyes and thank the person that crafted your blade anyway.
you can kiss him, you can hold him close, or you can strike him, you can treat him like an animal. he wouldn't care. it would be the same either way; he'd be glad that it was you.
for he was your lamb, and you were his butcher; for if you needed to be mean, be mean to him.
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riki ☆
"even though she isn’t even really gone, but things are just different ever since she cut her blue hair off" — blue hair, tv girl
of course riki noticed. how could he not?
all those bored looks when he was talking, aimless nods when he asked you a question, and loveless kisses that you pressed against his skin. it took you hours to respond to his texts and calls, and when you did, you responded curtly. you stopped coming home, always having plans on weekends with no time for him.
riki didn't know what happened.
he thought that you and him had such a great relationship, filled with love and laughter.
but somewhere along the way, you seemed to lose interest in him.
he asked all your friends, but they said nothing changed about your behavior.
did riki do something wrong? did he make you angry? all questions that he'd never find the answer to.
the silence was piercing, ringing in his ears. he'd just asked you how your day was, and all he got back was a simple, vacant stare, before you turned back to your phone, scrolling mindlessly. his heart sunk so his stomach, brows crashing together.
had riki lost you? all he wanted was for you to look at him, for you to acknowledge him. was he being dramatic?
please, riki begged. please look at me, please see me, please love me.
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k-nayee · 29 days ago
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Dusk Till Dawn JJK
wc: 2.5k a/n: Song Inspiration: Dusk Till Dawn by ZAYN; recommend you listen while reading!!
Traveler M.List
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ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ
Your chest heaved as you sprinted alongside Yuji, the chaos of Shibuya shaking the building around you.
The sound of curses and distant screams was muted, the only thing driving you forward being the desperate pounding of your heart.
Every step you took was filled with the nauseating fear of being too late.
And then you saw it.
Nanami.
Your heart stopped, dread freezing your veins.
There just a few feet ahead, you spotted him—his tall figure slumped, his once-immaculate suit burned and tattered.
Mahito's grotesque hand rested against his back, and in that instant, the world around you seemed to fall away.
The battle—the roars of curses, shouts of sorcerers, crashing debris—all of it became drowned out by the thundering pulse in your ears.
“Kento!” you screamed, voice cracking with desperation as your body surged forward.
But it was too far. You were too far.
His gaze shifted from Yuji, and for a fraction of a second, his weary eyes found yours.
Time slowed.
No—it wasn't just your imagination. Your cursed technique activated, a reaction so instinctive and desperate, that you barely registered it happening.
The world around you stilled even more as if caught in a slow-motion reel.
It was your family’s technique, passed down through generations: Temporal Shift; allowing you to manipulate time enough to switch places with someone in the midst of an attack—taking their place, absorbing the blow.
You could feel the familiar tug of your cursed energy rippling through your veins, gathering strength as it coiled, ready to launch you forward.
You could save him. You could—
Tears welled in your eyes. You couldn’t breathe, the weight of the moment crashing down on you.
Even shaken your resolve remained steadfast, though you weren’t sure if it was from determination or the sheer hopelessness of the situation.
Nanami's eyes widened in horror, the shock clear on his face as the cursed energy around him seemed to flicker.
He knew what you were about to do. But there was no time to protest.
No time for words.
Your lips pulled into a trembling, broken smile. There was no need for goodbyes. This was your choice.
You had always been willing to protect him—no matter the cost.
And so, with a soft breath, you whispered the word that sealed your fate.
“Switch.”
Chin up and shoulders squared, you saunter toward Nanami and Haibara’s table.
“Oh Nanami-kun~” you call his name, and for a split second you thought you saw him tense. 
You put on your best shy expression, shifting your weight from foot to foot and batting your lashes.
He looks up with a blank expression blank.
“I was wondering if you’d um...help me study for the upcoming test?” you ask, your voice softer than usual, practically dripping with sweetness.
Nanami blinked at you, clearly not expecting the request. But before he could answer you heard a loud whisper from behind you.
“Why is she acting like this?!” Gojo practically hissed, loud enough for the entire room to hear. “She never asks us for help like that!”
“Yeah, she’s never this cute when she’s begging us for anything,” Geto chimed in,  voice equally obnoxious.
Your eye twitched, fists balling up at your sides.
“You two are ruining my chance!” spinning around, you land two solid punches on both of their heads with a satisfying thud.
“Ow!” Gojo whined, rubbing the side of his head with an exaggerated pout. “What was that for?!”
“We were just trying to help,” Geto added, wincing slightly as his grin remained in place.
You glared at them both. “You two never get this treatment because you don’t deserve it!” you snapped before turning back to Nanami.
Clearing your throat you give your most charming smile. “So would you help me? Please?”
He blinked at you, expression still impassive. “No.”
“Well that was disappointing.” You sigh deeply as your shoulders slump in defeat. Quickly shrugging it off with a playful pout, you wave a hand at Gojo and Geto. “Let’s go losers.”
Gojo raised a finger ready to protest. "Actually we wanted to stay—"
You didn’t let him finish.
With a swift move you grabbed him by the collar, dragging him out of his seat, ignoring his indignant squawks of protest as you choked him slightly in the process. “Nope. You’re coming with me.”
Geto quickly raised his hands in surrender and followed after you with a laugh smile. “No complaints from me, I’m good.”
You pause at the door, glancing back at Nanami one last time. “I’ll try again when you’re in a better mood Nanami~”
You flash him a weak smile before looking over at Haibara, who had been silently observing the whole ordeal. “Oh, and hey Haibara! Sorry I didn’t say hi earlier.”
Haibara just smiled, waving your apology away with a casual gesture. “Don’t worry about it. Wouldn’t want to interrupt your budding relationship anyway.”
Both you and Nanami froze.
Heat rushed to your face as Nanami’s head snapped toward Haibara. “What are you—”
“Wait—really?!” You practically shouted, heart leaping in your chest as you stepped forward. “He talks about me?!”
Haibara, realizing his mistake, stammered nervously under Nanami’s murderous gaze. “Uh I mean—well—n-not exactly! I might have been mistaken! Haha, I don’t know what I’m talking about...”
But it was too late. The damage had been done. You were already too far gone, completely starry-eyed and grinning from ear to ear.
Practically floating on air, you offer a faint farewell as you continue to drag Gojo, still ignoring his pleas for mercy as he weakly flail to escape your grip.
“Now why do you let her do that?” Geto mused with a raised eyebrow as the Limitless Curse user struggled in vain. “You could just turn on Infinity.”
“Because she’d just hit me harder,” Gojo whined as you tugged him through the door.
You paid them no mind, your thoughts too consumed with Haibara’s words.
Nanami talked about you. Even if it was just a small passing comment, it was enough to keep your heart racing for the rest of the day.
You were so going to try again later.
════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════
The mission had seemed simple at first—just another exorcism in a quiet town far removed from the chaos of Tokyo.
It had been long and tiring, but it seems the curse that had been terrorizing the area was finally dealt with. 
You, Nanami, and Haibara stood amidst the rubble of what had once been a bustling street.
Now all that remained was to clean up. Though your mind was already on other things.
You had your phone pressed to your ear, chatting with Gojo about the snack run you two had planned after the mission. “No no trust me, Gojo. They have the best dorayaki in the area. You just need to—”
“Focus,” Nanami’s stern voice cut through your conversation. He gave you a withering glance, his usual look of disapproval that came whenever you let your guard down.
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Oh come on Nami-kun. We already took care of the curse. Why so serious?”
He didn’t answer but his brow furrowed, the tension in his shoulders unrelenting.
Typical Nanami—always so on edge, never allowing himself even a moment of ease.
You give him a playful glance, but before you could say anything else something flickered in your peripheral vision.
Your face contorted in a flash of confusion, then fear. Your instincts screamed and a cold sweat broke across your skin.
Haibara noticed the shift in your expression first. “Hey what’s—”
You didn’t even have time to finish your sentence before the Grade 1 curse ambushed.
It came out of nowhere, its grotesque form twisting in the shadows, lunging at Haibara with deadly intent.
His brown eyes widened in shock, too slow to react as the curse’s blow landed upside his head with a sickening slash, knocking him down with a thud.
“Haibara!” Nanami yelled in panic.
Your heart lurched as you saw the curse’s next attack winding up, its malevolent energy aimed straight at the fallen sorcerer.
There wasn’t time to think—only time to act.
"Switch!" you shouted, your cursed technique roaring to life.
In an instant you felt the familiar pull of energy shift between you and Haibara.
The world seemed to blur for a heartbeat, and then the curse’s attack struck you instead.
The force of the blow hit your side, white-hot pain searing through your body as you absorbed the impact.
You collapsed, the wind knocked out of you, but at least Haibara was out of danger.
"Dammit!" Nanami’s curse technique activated in a flash, slicing clean through the air as he moved to exorcise the curse.
His strikes were shar and precise, fueled by barely restrained fury as he tore into the creature.
Haibara, regaining his balance, joined him, and together they finished off the curse.
You lay on the ground, clutching your side where blood oozed from the gash.
“Are you okay?!” Haibara rushed over to you, his voice trembling with panic.
His face was pale and you could see the terror in his brown eyes—terror that, if it weren’t for your intervention, he would have been the one lying in your place.
Nanami appeared at your other side, his face set in a hard line, though his hands shook slightly as he reached out to check your wound.
“I’m fine,” you muttered through gritted teeth, wincing as they tried to help you up.
“Fine?” Nanami’s voice was low, but there was an edge to it that made you falter. “You call this fine?”
*.·:·.☽✧✧☾.·:·.*
Back in the infirmary, the antiseptic smell hung in the air as Shoko patched you up before leaving to tend others.
You were sore but relatively lucky—your cursed technique had softened the blow, though the pain still pulsed dully through your body.
Haibara sat at a chair nearby, his face still pale as he absentmindedly touched the new scar that ran along his jawline.
Nanami remained standing with an unreadable expression.
Gojo and Geto had stopped by to check on you earlier, their usual banter lightening the mood as Gojo teased you about how reckless you always were.
“What luck you have,” he’d said grinning, “being able to switch places like that. Almost unfair.”
They’d left soon after, leaving just you, Nanami, and Haibara.
Suddenly He spoke, voice soft and shaky. “Today was...a wake-up call.”
You look up in confusion. “Haibara?”
He glanced between you and Nanami, his lips pressing into a tight line before he exhaled deeply.
“If ____ hadn’t been there, I would’ve...” His voice cracked and he swallowed. “I’m stepping away from the Jujutsu world.”
The weight of his words hit you like a punch to the gut. Haibara was always the cheerful one, the one who saw the good in things.
For him to step away...it was serious.
 Haibara stood slowly, walking over to your bedside with his head low.
When he finally lifted his gaze to meet yours his eyes were filled with unshed tears.
He give a deep bow, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you...for saving me. I owe you my life.”
You wave off his gratitude, trying to play it cool despite the lump forming in your throat. “You don’t owe me anything. Just...don’t forget about us okay?”
Haibara’s expression softened, and to your surprise, he bent down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.
The gesture was affectionate, almost like a farewell. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Nanami may seem cold... but he’s a softy. Talks about you a lot.”
You blink in shock as heat rushed to your face. Haibara gave you a pointed look, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.
You tried to hold back a grin but it was impossible.
Chuckling softly, he turns to Nanami, offering a firm handshake and a brief hug.
With one last nod Haibara left, leaving you and Nanami in the quiet of the infirmary.
For a long moment neither you nor Nanami said a word. The silence between you was heavy.
You absentmindedly pick at the blanket on your lap, trying to think of something—anything, to break the tension.
“So...” You forced a weird smile. “Nice weather we’ve been having this week huh?”
Nanami’s eyes darkened. 
"How could you be so...so irresponsible?" His voice was low, trembling with barely-contained anger.
Your smile faltered. "Wait...what?"
Nanami’s fists clenched at his sides as he took a step closer, his brows furrowed.
"You weren’t even supposed to be on that mission in the first place. You—" His voice strained as he tried to keep his emotions in check. "You put yourself in danger. You could have—"
You sat up, your frown deepening. "It was a good thing I was there. Everything turned out fine didn’t it? Plus if I hadn’t bee—”
“What if you died?!” He cut you off, his frustration boiling over as he stared at you with wide teary eyes.
You fell silent, mouth half-open, the words dying in your throat.
“What if you didn’t make it in time? What if Haibara died? Or you?” His usually neat hair was disheveled as if he was barely holding it together.
Nanami took a shaky breath, his gaze dropping to the floor as he continued. “I—I wouldn’t have been able to...”
The room seemed to still, his words hanging in the air like a weight pressing down on your chest.
You hadn’t expected this. You hadn’t realized just how deeply it had affected him.
Without thinking you reach out and grab his hand, your fingers intertwining with his.
He look at you in shock, his wide hazel eyes filled with vulnerability.
Before he could say anything your other hand gently cradle his face as you lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips.
When you pulled away, his face was a deep shade of red, his lips trembling in disbelief.
“Stop worrying so much Nami-kun,” you offer him a gentle smile and tilt your head playfully. “You’ll never be alone. I’m right here babes.”
With a wink, you lift his hand and wrap your pinky around his. "From dusk till dawn yeah?"
Nanami’s breath hitched, his heart pounding in his chest as he stared at you.
Slowly, his hand tightened around yours, eyes softening as the tension began to melt away.
"Yeah," he whispered. "From dusk till dawn."
One second you were standing several feet away, your feet skidding on the rubble-strewn ground, and the next—
You were there.
In his place.
Mahito's hand was now on you, the twisted grin on the curse's face shifting as he blinked in mild surprise.
The sickening energy from his Idle Transfiguration seeped into your skin, and in that split second, you felt the inevitability of it all.
But you didn’t look at Mahito.
Nanami stood frozen just a few feet away, his eyes wide with disbelief. The realization hit him like a punch:
No your eyes were still on Nanami, who stood frozen where you had been just moments before.
Burns of his half-obliterated body was nothing compared to the raw horror that filled his chest now.
The world was moving again—too fast, too harsh—and yet you held on to this fleeting moment to simply smile.
For him, you’d smile one last time.
And then—pain.
“Well...that was the wrong person,” Mahito mused, his grin widening. He tilted his head, eyes gleaming with mock innocence. “Oops. Oh well.”
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kquil · 1 year ago
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SIRIUS BLACK | MUSIC LOVER
request. : Hi love! Could you do one with sirius where, reader and him is in his dorm and reader asks him to put on music on (record player probably cuz they don't have phone) and he gets really insecure, bc what if she doesn't like his music. Buuuut when he sees her tap her foot along to the drums he gets soo happy, and when she mumbles along to his favorite song (i feel like is probably like dancing queen or sum) he just know he's found the person he's going to marry and he's just so happy and cute. If not that's totally fine! Take care 😘😘—@valencia-rou
g. : fluff ; muggleborn reader ; secretly pining sirius ; sirius being dramatic again ; reader isn't having it ; they're besties ; sirius is an ABBA lover ; reader is an ABBA lover too ; record player is the secret matchmacker
length : 0.6k
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You sigh heavily and slump back into Sirius’ bed, putting aside your unfinished essay. This attracts the attention of the marauder, who was propped up against the headboard and flicking through a muggle book. 
“No progress, huh?” there was a touch of amusement in Sirius’ tone that made you frown deeper and raise a hand to hit his shin. As soon as the resonating slap echoed through the dorm room, Sirius immediately shouts in mock pain and brings his shin up to clutch at ‘painfully’, “Ow! The pain! Ahh!” he hisses dramatically as you roll your eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips shyly from the display, “It hurts soooo much! Why would you do such a thing, Dollface?!”
“Stop playing Sirius…” he ignores your sass and continues his exaggerated but amusing spectacle. 
“I’ve never felt such agony before in my life!” he lifts the back of his hand to rest on his forehead, sweeping some of his hair to the side and swoons as he peaks an eye at you. In that brief moment, he sees your amused, disbelieving face and quickly formulates a plan, “this pain can only be calmed by a kis-”
“Music!” you gasp and stand from the bed as soon as you see the record player sitting atop a set of drawers beside a stack of books. It was a new addition to the room that Sirius had begged Remus to buy for him in the muggle world so it was fair that you were surprised to see it. Rushing to the record player, you see that there was a vinyl already inside and look up at Sirius with excitement. Lost in your elation, you miss the anxious look Sirius gives you, “Is this yours, Siri?”
“Uh, yeah,” 
His mind raced with insecurities as you examined the record player in an attempt to deduce its mechanics. You’re a muggleborn and probably had immaculate taste in muggle music compared to his limited knowledge. He wasn’t sure about how you’d react to his taste in artists and songs. 
“Can I have a listen?” you’re still admiring the record player and almost fail to notice how Sirius doesn’t answer right away. 
Turning to the marauder, you smile and tilt your head curiously, finally prompting him to answer, “go ahead…” he watches you turn to the record player again, “you just have to flip the switch on the right si—” 
ABBA’s ‘Dancing Queen’ promptly begins to play, which makes Sirius wince. He was new to the group but he was quickly beginning to like them just as much as Queen. The grimace on his face wasn’t for distaste of the music, however, it was, rather, in anticipation for your judgement. 
“Oh my god! I love this song!” you squeal, jumping in place before you begin to sing along, swaying your hips and moving your shoulders to the beat. From your perfect citation of the lyrics, Sirius could very well argue that you love ABBA as much as he does, if not, more. Before he knew it, his worries were wiped away, long forgotten and you were pulling him up from the bed to dance together in the middle of the dorm. 
Sirius had no choice but to admit that you had never looked so lovely or cute. And to think that she couldn’t get any more perfect… he internally praises, grinning widely and happily dances with you
“Je vais l’épouser…” Sirius utters under his breath, still staring at you with an awestruck look on his face. 
“Hm? What was that Siri?” you ask, turning to look at him with an innocent tilt of your head, hips still moving to the music. 
“Nothing, Doll,” Sirius assures and kisses your forehead.
Translation : 
Je vais l’épouser — I’m going to marry her
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navi.
a/n : sirius liking ABBA is canon in my book, sorry not sorry! what i am sorry for is the fact that it took me so long to write this adorable request! i'm so sorry, my love! i hope you liked it, it's short and sweet but so adorable!
taglist : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @neeezza101 @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @rosaleenablack @samanddeansannoyingsis @marina468 @rosalyn-s @seungtelevision
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