#walking on gold rays

[bluedestinybluebird]

I slept 5 hours and now I spilled ink on my hair, sounds like goals.

[blossomingmoonlight]

⭑ Our sweet sister ⭑

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Sister!reader x Aemond Targaryen

Summary: Aemond has been waiting for years to marry his favourite sister, Aegon agreed it was the only way of keeping her close of making sure she only belonged to them. But her being given away to a dornish prince changes everything.

Warnings: NSFW, +18 mdni, targcest, murder, threesome (my first), making out, mastrubation, grinding, fingering, oral (both m and f receiving), vaginal sex, breeding kink, mommy kink, titty sucking, creampie, switch Aegon, dom Aemond and Aegon being drunk as always.

Word count: 3.3k

The early morning rays shone through your window in the Red Keep as your handmaiden finished up with your hair. She always had a need to have your hair perfect, not one strand out of place. With some pins she adjusted the headpiece with the sheer black fabric and green and gold details. Your mother, Queen Alicent, could arrive any moment with your twin sister Heleana, to pick you up for prayer at the sept. 

You absolutely despised it but you could never disobey your mother. You were her favourite daughter after all. She always tried to get close to Heleana but you knew your twin preferred to keep her distance from everyone. Even though you were twins, you didn’t really look alike. Both of you of course had the silver hair and lilac eyes of house Targaryen but your facial features were different from hers.

The door opened and your mother and sister entered your chamber. “My dear, how did you sleep?” Alicent asked as she adjusted your headpiece a bit, at which your handmaiden frowned. “Fine, shall we leave?” You stood up and Alicent stopped fussing with your hair, following you out instead. Strolling through the halls with your mother and sister in front of you, Aemond walked passed giving you a small smile. To which you mouthed a silent “Help me”, he chuckled as he gave you one last sympathetic smile over his shoulder. 

You thanked the gods the morning passed swiftly, for you were already on your way back to the Red Keep. When you reached the door of your bedchamber you hurriedly went inside as your handmaiden stood at the ready for your, often daily, dragon ride with Aemond. She helped you quickly change into your dragon riding attire. You and Aemond have always been extremely close, always there for each other, both the favourite children. But ever since Aemond started to grasp for more power, he started to lose the favour of his mother, her now fully turning her attention to you. 

Your eldest brother, Aegon, had never been much loved by your mother. And because of your maturity and grace, he started to cling to you instead. This was the root of your complicated but deep connection with your older brother, everytime he got scolded or drunk he would turn to you. Now this used to be in an innocent way but lately the winds started to shift, Heleana was more distant from him then ever, his mother had just been ignoring him and his father on the doorstep of death. You hadn’t seen him yet today, so you assumed he was still asleep, you would check on him later. 

As for now, you would take to the skies with your other brother. You couldn’t admit it but the way people were terrified when the two of you flew together made you feel so powerful. Yes the two biggest dragons of the realm were a godly sight indeed. You claimed Vermithor, The Bronze Fury, at age ten and two. That evening at Dragon Stone with your family was an interesting one. Everyone either preparing for bed or still drinking and talking was disrupted by the notice of your absence and the terrifying screeches and roars from the Bronze Fury below. Your mother demanded you to be rescued at once, for Vermithor was known to be relentless and fierce, having not accepted a rider after the old king died. But you were much like the dragon when it came to fierceness, you weren’t afraid. And so when the guards, dragon keepers and your family arrived at the cave where the dragons resided. You stood there, in your nightgown, hand on Vermithor’s nose. After years the Bronze Fury had been claimed... by a little girl.

Aemond joined you in the training yard where your horses were waiting to take you to the outskirts of the city, for Vermithor and Vhagar were both too big for the Dragon Pit. You were both quick to mount and race through the city to get to your dragons. When you arrived, Vermithor and Vhagar were both resting next to each other, they too, formed a close bond, as they only had each other outside the dragon pit. Both of them lifted their heads and grumbled and roared at the sight of the two of you, knowing they could fly with their riders again. You both climbed on your mounts and took to the sky, frightening the shit out of towns beneath you. 

It felt good to be with Aemond, natural but powerful at the same time. You knew his desperate want for the throne but that still couldn’t change how you saw him. By the time you came back the sun had begun to set and you both knew supper would be soon. So you returned with your brother to the Red Keep where two guards were waiting to take you to the dining room. As you both entered your mother wore a disapproving look on her face, she didn’t like the two of you flying for so long but when it also cut into her time with her family she really got annoyed. “You stink of dragon.” She began. “We only just got back mother, time gets away from us on dragon back.” Aemond defended. You took your seats next to each other, Aemond to your right. Aegon to your left. Heleana to his left. Her head down as she mumbled to herself. Aegon slumped in his seat as always, probably already drunk and waiting for supper to end so he could sneak out to his whores. 

There was a tension in the air, your mothers and grandfather's eyes were on you. Only then did you really take in your mother, teary eyed, red cheeks, looking down. Weird. You thought, you looked at your grandfather, the hand of the king, questioningly. “You are twenty years old already,” He began, you still looked at him confused but deep down you knew where this was heading, again. “For 4 years I have been searching for a good match for you, I have tried again and again to match you with someone you could grow to like, maybe even love and yet, you refuse them.” Otto stood up from his chair, “Alas, I have had enough. Your father, sadly, cannot make these decisions anymore, so I have. Now an opportunity has arisen, one that I have been waiting for.”

“House Martell is looking for a fine lady to marry their second son, prince Robyn. I sent a letter a while ago and they have agreed to accept your hand.” Two hands slammed on the table as Aemond stood up in rage. “You will do no such thing! She is a Targaryen princess! She will not be married off to some Dorne cunt!” He yelled, you could only look down. You knew this day would come, where they would be fed up with your defiance and force you to marry. But it seemed your brother would not give up without a fight. 

What you didn’t expect was for Aegon to stand up as well. “My sister is the most beautiful and fine Targaryen princess of the realm, I stand with Aemond. You will not marry her off to some plain man of house Martell.” You were taken by surprise, Aemond’s reaction was expected but you didn’t know Aegon cared so much too. Otto Hightower leaned slightly over the table. “She will marry him, he and his family should be here on the morrow. End of discussion!” He sneered. You stood up and left without a word. You went to bed that night knowing your calm, easy life in King’s Landing was alas over. Aemond however, thought otherwise. 

After everyone had gone to bed he was still awake, mauling over the dinner. In a fit of rage at the memory he left his chambers and almost ran to his older brothers. He could hear the disturbance inside yet he did not care, not when his beloved sister was about to be sold off like a broodmare. He passed the guards and pushed open the door. Aegon's bedchambers were completely destroyed, cups, tapestries, pillows, blankets were everywhere, glass and wine splayed on the grounds and walls. Aegon was standing over a small table that used to hold his wine. “Brother.” Aemond urged. Aegon looked up, his eyes bloodshot and fist balled up. “There is only one way to stop this, to keep her here.” Aegon didn’t even respond, he just nodded. They were very different from each other but they both had one thing in common, they loved you.

You woke up from a restless sleep to the entire Red Keep in disarray, you could hear shouting and arguing from inside your bedchamber and just as you were about to open the door. Heleana entered your bedchamber, hands covering her ears. You knew if Heleana looked to hide with you, it was bad. “What is it? Hel, what happened? Tell me.” She looked at the ground and muttered. “They’re dead.” Fear struck your heart as you thought the worst, her children? Your brothers? “What?! Who is Heleana?” You grabbed her hands and sat her down on your settee. “House Martell, at least, the prince and his father. Qoren Martell is now to be their new king.” You couldn’t help but smile. “How did they die?” Heleana finally looked at you, “They say Aegon and Aemond left in the middle of the night. No one could stop them as Aegon mounted Sunfyre and Aemond mounted Vhagar, they burned them on the Fork Road until nothing but ashes were left. Grandfather is furious as you might have heard.” 

That was the end of a short betrothal between you and the prince of Dorne. It took two weeks for things to finally calm in the Red Keep. But the two brothers' plans to keep you here were not completed. Sure their enemy was dead but it would be sooner or later the hand found a new match so they had to make sure you couldn’t marry. You were sitting in your bedchamber on your settee, in your nightgown, your long silver hair down while reading a book about The First Men. When all of a sudden your bedchamber creaked open, as you looked up from your book both Aegon and Aemond entered your bedchamber. You weren’t allowed to speak to them, for two weeks you hadn’t been able to leave other than to pray by your mothers request. You couldn’t help but smile as both of them entered with a mischievous grin on their faces. You also noticed the guards outside were gone. 

“You know you aren’t allowed to be here.” You said closing your book. They didn’t say a word as Aegon went and sat down on the settee in front of you, while Aemond settled next to you. “For two weeks we have lived in agony of not seeing you, not speaking to you. But as you know, Aegon and I have taken matters into our own hands. You, are ours. And we will do anything and burn anyone to keep you here.” Aemond spoke as he moved your hair behind your ear, placing a featherlight kiss on your neck making your eyes flutter shut. A fire started to burn inside you, heart thumping in your chest and a tingling feeling in your abdomen. When you opened your eyes you saw Aegon looking at you through half lidded eyes, his lips parted as you noticed a bulge in his pants. You weren’t stupid, you knew what sex was and you knew what they wanted and oh did you want it too.

“You, I think, know how we can keep you here. If your innocence is ruined, you’ll have no choice but to marry Aemond. You’ll stay here and have his children and of course you can keep taking care of me as well, right sister?” Aegon spoke, now standing up and moving to sit at your right side. You could only nod as Aemond groaned and moved his hand up your thigh, while Aegon grabbed your chin and smashed his lips on yours. Moving his lips feverishly against yours. Teeth clashing, tongue entwining and hands moving to rip off any clothes that were on you in the first place. Aemond finally had you bare next to him as his hand moved between your thighs, his lips and tongue moving over your neck. You moaned in Aegon's mouth, even your filthiest fantasies couldn’t compare to the real thing.

“Need you so bad mommy.” Aegon whined against your lips. You could hear a faint chuckle from Aemond who now used two fingers to tease your wet folds. “Listen to him, you haven’t even touched him yet and he’s already begging for it.” You couldn’t even speak as Aegon refused to stop kissing you. Aemond now circling your clit with his fingers making your free hands grip the fabric of the settee. Aegon started to remove his own clothes while never leaving your lips as Aemond paused to take off his as well. Both men now in their breeches, their hard ons evident between their legs. The effect you had on them made you feel like a goddess. You had them wrapped around your finger and they had you wrapped around theirs.

Aemond moved off the settee and kneeled between your legs, you looked down at him as he undid the clasp of his eyepatch, the sapphire in his eye socket twinkling in the candlelight. Aegon moved his lips down towards your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth and suckling on it like a babe. Aemond started to kiss between your thighs moving further until he reached your aching cunt. Tongue darted out as he began to lap at your folds. You could barely breathe as pleasure consumed you. Aegon sucked and licked at your breast hungrily, holding the other in his hand and using his right hand to pull down his breeches enough to free his cock. As Aemond continued to eat you like a starved man making you moan and whine, Aegon started to pump his cock, eager for that pure bliss. "Fuck- mommy-" Aegon mumbled.

Both brothers groaned and panted against you, Aemond now palming himself through his breeches. He couldn’t help it, he was too impatient. Precum started to leak from Aegon’s tip, he moaned and whined around your nipple. You couldn’t take it anymore, the erotic sounds, the feeling of one brother fucking you with his tongue and the other sucking on your breast while he was pleasuring himself, with a gasp and a plead you reached your peak. Seeing spots of how hard you squeezed your eyes shut. Your thighs clamping together around Aemonds head, which he forced right open before he stood back up. You hadn’t even noticed he removed his breeches as well. His cock stood proud, also leaking from the mere sight of you bare before him.

Aemond eyed Aegon hungrily, also seemingly turned on by the noises he made. Not to mention the sight of him at your breast while fucking his own fist. Aemond pulled Aegon of your nipple by his jaw and forced him to face his brother, before pulling him in a harsh kiss. Aegon made a strangled noise at the action and stopped pleasuring himself to hold the back of Aemond’s head, not wanting to let go of him. Then Aemond pushed his knee between Aegon's legs right against his hard cock. 

Aegon gasped against his brother's lips, you whined at the sight, never had you seen such an erotic scene before you and you were begging the gods to not let it stop. Aemond didn’t stop there but started to move with more pressure against Aegon’s cock, capturing his moans in his mouth. Aegon removed himself from Aemond’s lips for a moment. “Please- don’t stop- feel so good.” He mumbled. Your hand unconsciously slid down your body, touching yourself was the only way to relieve that nagging ache that returned again. But to Aegon and to your surprise, Aemond did stop. Making Aegon whine at the removal of the contact. “On the bed, both of you.” Aemond commanded, and both of you scrambled towards your bed. 

Aemond followed, positioning you like you weighed nothing. Putting you on your hands and knees, commanding Aegon to move towards your head while he stayed behind you. Aegon knew exactly what Aemond wanted and already held the base of his cock to smear his precum across your parted lips. Aemond grazed your other lips with his cock, smearing your arousal around. He reached out his hand to Aegon. “Spit.” Aegon did as told immediately and let his saliva drop onto his little brother's hand. Which Aemond used to coat his cock making it easier to breach your maidenhead. Aegon entered your mouth and hissed at the feeling, somehow this was better then any whores cunt. His sister and his brother sharing the bed with him was better than a thousand whores. 

You softly sucked on Aegon’s cock while Aemond pushed the head of his into your cunt. You whined around Aegon while Aemond sank further into you, a shuddering breath leaving his lips at the feeling of his sister's tight hole around him. He had waited so long, feeling sure that the two of you would be wed but that day never came, and it would never unless he took the matter into his own hands. Moans, gasps and panting filled the moonlit room, it was almost an ethereal sight. Three silver haired bodies becoming one. When Aemond felt you relax and Aegon started to carefully fuck your mouth, he started to move as well. Wanting nothing more than to fill you with his seed that would hopefully take root so he could finally make you his wife and mother of his children. "Oh mommy feels so good-" Aegon whined.

As your moans grew louder, Aemond started to fuck into you harder. Gripping your hips so he could move you against him as well. Aegon was the first to finish, being already so pent up and horny he didn’t last long in your warm wet mouth. With a gasp of your name he filled your throat with his cum, fingers entangled in your hair for support. He pulled his softening dick out and laid down next to you catching his breath. Aemond started to now pound into you like a wild animal, it seemed as if he was so lost in pleasure he couldn’t hear or see anything else but you. Aegon however, with a clearer mind, sat up and moved closer to you. Letting his hand trace your body to where you and Aemond were connected. 

Moving his fingers until he found your clit, you confirmed with a moan. He let his fingers rub against your sweet spot adding to the pleasure of your building orgasm. You pleaded for more, and Aegon started to move his fingers in rhythm with Aemond. This was all you needed, all you needed to scream out their names while gripping the sheets in ecstasy. Your walls clenched around Aemond, making him see stars. Aegon removed his fingers and watched in awe as his brother fucked you relentlessly. 

However Aemond’s thrusts were getting sloppier. And his cursing and groaning made it clear he was about to peak as well. With a couple of final thrusts he came hard. Making sure to go as deep as possible, he spurted his cum right against your cervix. Surely filling your womb with his spent. Giving you a couple of lazy trusts he made sure to be completely milked empty before pulling out. Letting himself fall on the bed next to you so he could pull you against his side. Aegon, not wanting to be left out of it, crawled against your other side, cuddling up next to you. What you didn’t notice, was how the door was accidentally left ajar. Your brothers made sure the entire Red Keep knew of your bedding. Surely they can’t deny Aemond his sister now?

[mondaymelon]

₊˚ෆ 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇 !! | sagau xiao, childe, zhongli x gn!reader

ˋ°•*⁀➷ cw: uhm. obsessiveness? yandere if you blink a couple times? cult themes... the usual deal with this au

⤷ [ you, the benevolent and kind overseer and creator of teyvat, has descended upon this world in mortal flesh, with a presence that is overpowering, omniscient, and so impossibly pure. ෆ yet, one day, you come into the cathedral with a gash on your arm, dripping with shimmering golden ichor that spilled from your veins. there will always be those who are too foolish to see the light you bring. ]

— sagau!xiao noticed you immediately. it would be hard not to. since the beginning, he had always heard it.

your sound. a beautiful one, a heavenly one. a chord struck him, somewhere in his chest, and he found himself panting on the ground, clutching at the fabric of his shirt.

like a electric charge - one that leaves you startled, tentative, with the tips of your fingers still tingling from what happened moments prior. a buzz in your veins that thrums along with your heartbeat.

he didn't deserve to see you. not with what sins he had committed. but xiao was selfish. he wanted to, with his tainted body, he wanted to praise you, scrape his throat raw with his voice.

and so he did.

his face brightens as you step into the cathedral, dressed in ceremonial robes as per usual. you look ethereal, why would you not? your eyes are warm as they fixate on him, and he can feel his heart skip a beat and words die in his throat. he kneels before you orderly, readying to lift his head when something catches his attention - that is, the coppery scent of blood.

blood?

a droplet splatters onto the dustless floor. melted gold.

xiao's already stood up before he realizes it. his eyes are blown wide, his shrunken pupils sharp, like a cat's. "who. who did this to you?" those words take all the willpower in him to speak. his mind is swirling, racing, thinking up of every single possibility, vision scattered and blurry as unbridled fury teems within him.

"it's nothing. some civilians have begun rioting in the city, saying that i'm an imposter. all i did was show them a little bit of my blood and they all started singing praises, so the issue has been resolved." you shake your head with a soft smile, like this matter isn't anything to concern himself over.

it is.

he hates it. how he feels so fucking powerless, how he couldn't even stop this simple event from occurring in the first place. it's his fault. it's his and everyone else who dared not believe your words. your word is the truth. it is the undeniable laws of the world, what maps the stars and what lays the land.

he'll have time to ingrain that within everyone's minds. even if it means time away from you. but that's not the issue at the moment. he turns to search for bandages, but sees the already-healing wound slowly closing up as your skin mends together.

there's a knife at your side, coated in something that shimmers in the rays of light coming from the high, color-tainted windows.

something in his heart decides, seeing your reserved smile.

there will always be those who are too foolish to see the light you bring.

very well.

then he'll just have to eradicate every last one of them. ₊˚ෆ

— sagau!childe had, to be honest, never cared all that much. why would he, to the person who had abandoned him into the cold, dark, abyss? yet, the smile on your face. it's bright. so bright it burns him. was there a day where he could smile like that?

no, no. he couldn't. that's an expression only reserved for someone as beautiful as you. as pure as you, like a blank, unblemished canvas, with the world as its paint. it's a level of resplendency that no one on this cursed universe could ever hope to accomplish.

a god in flesh, living in a tainted world. a walking contradiction that he had grown to call the thing that allowed him to keep living. something that spurred irony, you who broke all forms of the logic he had made to keep himself sane. perhaps that was why the heart he'd locked away has suddenly begun aching again? is that why he feels so warm from your divine prescence?

"childe?" you call out his name into the vast, empty hallways, glancing around for the familiar sight of a tuft of ginger hair. he hears you at once, rushing to your side with a grin on his face.

"your grace??" he bows at the sight of you, unable -to contain his excitement as he quivers in place, the smile on his lips tugging upwards even more than its current extent. "yes, what's-"

he stops abruptly, his voice faltering as he catches the scent of something iron. one familiar on the battlefield, a liquid that'd paint the surroundings a beautiful red.

his heart pounds. the thrill of a battle? no, that can't be it. if that was the case, how come it felt like he was slowly suffocating on his unspoken words?

that's when he catches the sight of the poorly wrapped bandages encasing your forearms. and the shimmering ichor that's soaked through the hastily wrapped cloth.

he moves to grab your arm, but curses himself out as he quickly changes direction and tightly holds your wrist, his expression more pained than yours, despite you being the one suffering with the injury. "what... your grace, what is this?"

he hates your knowing smile. he hates it. (oh, but does he? could he hate anything that is of you?) it just reminds him how you're all too far for him to reach, a purity that he does nothing to maintain. "there was a riot in the city against the church. luckily, they all quieted down after i gave them a glimpse of..." you trail off, ending your incomplete sentence with a sheepish smile. the rest is self-explanatory, anyway.

his vision trembles as his pupils shake. "haha, you...?" fuck. fuck fuck fuck, just whose idea was it to allow you near a knife? how did you get your hands on that?? which stupid fucking bumbling idiot allowed for this to happen?

it's his fault. he should've been by your side. curse the fatui, curse them all, how could they possibly dare keep him away from your holy being? the guilt that churns within him, is that why he remains mute as you step away, gracefully walking to meet with the other retainers?

there will always be those who are too foolish to see the light you bring.

no, it's fine.

it will all be fine.

cutting off their tongues won't be enough. cutting them up until they're a dismembered, bloody mess isn't even close to what you've suffered for the sake of humanity.

yes, he'll make them realize that. they'll pay with their blood a thousand times over. ₊˚ෆ

— sagau!zhongli had his breath taken away by you before he even saw you, before the two of you had even exchanged words. your presence - it was so simply alluring, a saccharide charm that just drew him closer and closer.

sweet. yes, it was a familiar flavor upon the tongue that had long since tasted the many marvels the world had to offer. like a warm cup of tea, made from the sugary extract of flowers, how the sensation of it seemed to bloom upon your mouth.

ah, how should he put this. perhaps you had procured the blossom in his heart instead? stems, leaves, buds, a floret that'd only appear when you were in his gaze. a steady thrum that ran throughout his body with every stolen glimpse he took from your attention expertly.

perhaps, was this what he felt all those years ago?

did it matter? his soul was resolute, now, and it glowed gold, just like the blessed blood that flowed through every vein and lay in every vessel within that beautiful, beautiful you.

yes, ichor... just like the splatter of it on the ground...? a pang of fear strikes him - has something happened to you while he was away? he should've none better than to trust those good-for-nothing other cultists, who spend all their time babbling about your gloriousness yet turn a blind eye to whenever you require assistance!

no, he had to calm himself down. this wasn't the moment where he should grow frustrated. first, he must confirm the situation... he's planned this out to the every plan b, c, d, e, and so on, so how come he's still feeling so anxious?

there you are, upon your throne, busy conversing with a fellow archon, the one as free as the wind. funnily enough, you were the one that tied him down like a shackle.

"ah, zhongli. are you alright? you're breathing quite hard." you tilt your head, averting your gaze from venti's sparkling eyes and instead fixing them on the usually stoic man's jumbled expression. his shoulder's heave as he resists the urge to collapse at your feet.

"what... what are you... you're hurt?" stained bandages peek out from just below your silk sleeve, a sight that cannot possibly be missed from his attentive gilded eyes. "why didn't you tell me? i-i'll call one of the healers so they can-"

"zhongli, there's no need for that." with a hand, you gently signal venti to leave the scene, which he does, with obvious reluctance. a silence gesture that resonates with appreciation deeply within him. "this was of my own accord."

"your own accord?"

"unbelievers decided to throw a riot, and there wasn't much i could do except...well, don't they say that seeing is believing?" how come you don't look the slightest bit pain? where is your self-pity? your frustration? "anyhow, i'm not in a good state. please leave me for the time being, i don't plan on receiving any more audiences tonight."

he bows hastily, yet each movement is still finely crafted with minuscule adjustments that have taken him thousands of tries to master. he does as you say, and his strides are quick and long. it won't take a genius to see that his facade has crumpled, with the clear agitation that's spreading across his features like a wildfire that devours all in its path.

there will always be those who are too foolish to see the light you bring.

he'll change that. every thrum of the golden markings running up and down his body seem to pulse in unison with his heartbeat, which is raring like he's recently returned from the battlefield.

who would've thought he'd so quickly return.

this time, of his own will. he'd be sure that these fools of this world would learn the truth of your paragon. ₊˚ෆ

(a/n) please save me the delulu has returned and iTS NOT LETTING GO

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123

[nrdmssgs]

Kissing Ghost on the forehead

Masterlist Kissing König on the forehead Kissing Price on the forehead

Simon tried to protect you from Ghost, he really did. It was not that Ghost would hurt you in any way, no. And of course, it was not a disease or mental disorder of any kind - it's a coping mechanism. But once the mask was on - Ghost appeared softly and silently. And Ghost could do things, that Simon couldn't. Things, he wouldn't ever want you to witness.

He never made a huge mystery of his work - he just didn't give away too many details. Simon didn't even hide his masks - he just asked you to not touch him, when he's wearing one of them.

"It's dusty, I wouldn't want your hands to get dirty." When in reality, he wouldn't want your entire being to get corrupted.

Ghost was to be kept out of your house and Simon made sure, you never saw each other. Little did he know, you had your ways not only around people, but around symbols as well.

His last day at home was coming to an end: in the morning he had to leave for a long deployment. Simon packed his things, leaving the mask atop of his open bag.

The rays of the setting sun painted the rooms with large windows in shades of red and gold. He absorbed every moment, breathed in and tried to remember barely distinguishable smells and sounds that filled your house, walked aimlessly through the rooms when he saw this. You sat on the edge of your bed, next to his bag, holding his mask in front of you. Your eyes were screwed shut as you pressed your forehead against the cracked, grayish surface of the mask. It was as if Ghost was kneeling in front of you, letting you touch his forehead with yours. Simon froze, part of him wanted to end this scene right there, but he hesitated, not wanting to scare you.

You slowly opened your eyes and looked deep into the empty holes in the mask. Your lips parted and you spoke almost inaudibly.

"Protect him and bring him back to me alive."

Simons' heart skipped a beat, when he understood, you were speaking not to him, but to the Ghost behind his mask.

And then, when he thought, this strange conversation was over - you brought the mask to your lips and kissed its forehead. Simon was standing in good 10–15 meters from you, but he could swear, he almost felt your soft and tender touch. Anything he ever knew, anything both he and Ghost were capable of, crumbled and slowly disappeared before your wish. Anything, that still kept meaning both to Simon and Ghost from this very moment, was that wish.

"Bring him back alive."

[ponderingmoonlight]

(y/n) gifting Geto sweets against the bad taste of curses

Pairing: Geto x reader

Word Count: 1,1k

Synopsis: Being used to the fact that nobody seems to care about how awful curses taste, Suguru Geto is absolutely blown away when you start noticing and bringing him candy after each and every mission.

Warnings: (y/n) has a really bubbly personality in this, pure fluff and no Geto going berserk

Thank you anon for your cute request 🤍

„Oh, there you are! I searched everywhere for you!”, you shout cheerfully, your steps hollering down the dark alley.

Suguru would recognize that oh so sweet voice out of a million, his heartbeat picking up in an instant. It’s you. You’re really here.

“What are you doing here, (y/n)?”, he questions softly.

“Well, I don’t know. I had to steal myself away since Yaga-sensei strictly forbid me to run after you again while you’re on a mission. He said something about getting hurt or killed…But that doesn’t stop me! I brought you something salty to eat!”, you announce proudly, stretching out your hand with a little package inside it.

“Did you really come all the way here just to give me that? You don’t have to gift me something to eat. And on top, you don’t need to get yourself in danger for something unimportant like that.”

“Oh, but it’s not unimportant! After all, swallowing those curses doesn’t taste good, right?”

His gaze meets yours. Suguru never talked with anyone about the breath-taking disgusting taste these things left in his mouth for hours, how it takes all his strength to not throw them back up in an instant. After all, no one ever asked him about this. It seems like it has always been enough that he was able to absorb them for everyone else.

“Why would you think that?”

But how…how on earth do you know? Even though Suguru talks with you a lot about everything and everyone, he never talked about this with you. Hell, not even with Satoru.

“That face you make afterwards, scrunching your eyes just the tiniest bit while pressing your lips together. And I mean, what would curses taste like? Certainly not like sugar and candy, right? And I guess it’s like garlic: you’ll have the taste in your mouth for hours! But at least garlic tastes good when used right. Man, I really want some garlic noodles right now… Are you in the mood to grab something to eat? I know you’re quite busy, but-”

Suguru can’t help but stare at you, the foul taste left on his tongue pushed into the background. You with your bubbly personality made of pure gold. You, who came all the way here just to give him something to eat. You, the only person walking on this earth who ever took the time to think about how it must feel to swallow a curse.

Just you.

“It’s like eating a vomit-soaked rag. That’s what they taste like.”

Your doe eyes dart towards him, reflecting nothing but compassion. Before he is able to think straight you’re standing right in front of him, hand pressing the little package into his much larger one.

“No one should have to taste something like this on a regular basis. But maybe…Oh, I have an idea! Let’s make a pact.”

“A pact?”, he repeats in disbelief.

What are you up to? And why is your smile suddenly as bright as the sun?

“A pact! I promise to always have something to eat for you when you tell me about your missions in exchange!”, you announce proudly.

“This doesn’t seem fair to me at all. You don’t have to follow after me just to give me something nice to eat.”

It seems so crazy, almost unbelievable to him that another human being would be willing to sacrifice its precious time for him. Don’t you understand that this promise would mean traveling after him every day and night multiple times? Don’t you understand that you are too good for that? Especially you, the ray of sunshine at Jujutsu High. You, the girl everyone talks about, the girl that even Nanami secretly adores. Why would someone like you take special care of him?

“What isn’t fair is that you have to go through something like this every single time. I really admire you, Suguru. Just the smell of something disgusting makes me gag. Just thinking about eating something that tastes so horrible multiple times a day…You really are a hero! And every hero deserves some sweets! Oh wait…Are you actually into sweets? I can bring you something salty as well.”

“Satoru prefers sweets-“

“But I’m not asking about Satoru”, you interrupt him immediately.

“I’m asking about you.”

He isn’t able to respond. No, Suguru is absolutely captivated by your kind smile and the way you still hold onto his hand, the package in his palm feeling sweaty just by one look into your innocent eyes.

You…you really noticed. And not only that, you really do care about him.

“Go ahead, take a bite! I wonder what you think. I was never really a fan of salty snacks, but these ones are really good”, you explain all too excited.

Hesitantly, he rips open the package and allows himself to get a taste. Oh, this feels like heaven on earth, the saltiness of what seems like crackers hunting away the stinging taste of vomit in his mouth. But what intrigues him the most is you. How you stand in front of him, swaying back and forth in excitement while your eyes follow every move of his mouth, literally glowing in joy.

“These are really good”, he finally confesses.

“Thank you, (y/n). Now everything just tastes good.”

And so it did every following mission. Instead of feeling disgusted by only the sight of a curse, Suguru somehow feel…excitement. Excitement because swallowing a curse means meeting you afterwards. Excitement because he’ll get to taste a new sort of candy or sweets almost every single day. Excitement because slowly but surely, he fell head over heels for your striking sight.

“Those are a speciality around here! I heard some of the others talk about that shop yesterday and thought you might want to try it as well.”

The candy melts on his tongue right away, making him wonder what you taste like while your pretty mouth happily keeps on telling him everything about that shop. It is so easy to get lost in your sight, lost in your talking, last in your personality.

“(y/n).”

He takes a step forward, putting the other piece of candy you handed him over in his pocket. Your eyes widen in the most delicate way, cheeks turning rosy just by one glimpse into the chocolate brown ocean of his eyes.

You always loved the taste of sweets on your tongue, how your nerves began to tingle just the slightest bit. But in this moment, you realized that tasting Suguru Geto was way better than that. He wraps his arms around you gently, pressing his lips against yours ever so slightly. You feel like fainting, flying, giggling. What a precious man he is, how long you imagined how it must feel to kiss your secret crush. But oh, the reality is so much better.

“I love you more than any candy on this planet.”

Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @itsmonicabc

[azrielslittleslut]

Ok but I absolutely LOVED "bad hair day", and wanted to request another(same anon) small fluffy fic where reader is a librarian from Day and got sent to work with Rhysand, since he needs help with research? Azriel sees her for the first time and is like "Oh, wait, pretty" and stands there staring and Cassian observes since he was chatting nearby and is like "oh this is my next gossip topic." Fluff, ily and your work. remember to take breakss<33 feel free to change this up a bit, wasn't very specific sorry :,)

"A Day Court Crush"

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: slight language, fluff, the teeniest bit of angst if you squint hard enough

Word Count: 1k

a/n: I'm so happy you enjoyed the fic, and I hope you like this one as well!<3

Azriel groaned as he walked down the steps to the library in the River House. "Why are these books so heavy?" he grumbled to Cassian, who was also struggling to carry his stack of tomes.

Cassian grunted as he nearly stumbled on one of the stairs. "It's like they're filled with rocks."

Az readjusted the books in his arms as they continued to walk down the spiraling staircase. "Do you know why Rhys insisted on us bringing these? They've been collecting dust in the House of Wind's library for ages."

Cassian shook his head, his dark locks falling across his brow. He blew out a breath as a strand got stuck in his eyelashes. "Rhys hired a new librarian from Day Court to help with some research," he said, his deep voice echoing along the stone. "Nesta met her already. Apparently, she's the best librarian Day has to offer, and she shares Nesta's love for smutty books."

Azriel chuckled to himself. "A librarian who loves smutty books. I wonder how that conversation got started," he mumbled to himself.

At the bottom of the staircase, there was a set of grand double doors that reached high into the shadows above. With his hip, Az pushed the doors open, and he was immediately overwhelmed by the scent of aged parchment and polished wood.

There were high, arched windows lining the walls, allowing beams of sunlight to cascade into the room. Wrought-iron chandeliers filled with candles hung along the ceiling, making everything seem warm and cozy. There were also some tables and chairs scattered throughout the room, all neatly organized to make the most of the space.

Rich mahogany shelves lined every wall, filled with ancient books of various sizes. Some of them were bound in leather, while others were scrolls tucked carefully into illuminated nooks.

How the hell had Rhys built up such a collection?

"Azriel. Cassian," Rhys drawled, pulling Azriel's attention to the center of the room. He stood next to one of the large tables at the center. It will filled with stacks of large books, similar to the ones Cassian and Azriel had in their arms. "We've been waiting for ages."

Cassian rolled his eyes. "You couldn't have just used your magic to bring these down here?"

Rhys chuckled as he stepped aside to reveal the female who had been standing behind him. "I could have, but I wanted you to meet my new researcher." He gestured to the female with a hand. "This is Y/N. She will be working for me for the foreseeable future."

Azriel was unable to keep his mouth from falling open at the sight of you. You were wearing a fitted, flowing gown made of airy fabric that glistened like the first rays of dawn. It was made of the finest silk in shades of gold, pale yellow, and cream. Along the bodice and sleeves, there were intricate designs of sunbursts and delicate floral patterns, interwoven with shimmering threads of gold.

Your beautiful hair fell around your face, and it was adorned with tiny gemstones that sparkled in the sunlight. Around your neck, you wore a small sun-shaped pendant, and Azriel found his eyes glued to the way it rose and fell with your soft breaths.

"Hello," you said in a soft, sing-song voice. "It's so nice to finally meet you. Rhys has told me so much about you."

"All good things I hope," Cassian said with a grin.

You chuckled, and Az felt his heart skip a beat at the lovely sound. "Of course, of course."

You looked at Azriel, and your eyes widened as you saw the books in his arms. "Oh!" you exclaimed, rushing over to him. You placed a hand on the first book in the stack. "This is the one I've been needing. Thank you for bringing it!"

Azriel was still silent, unable to form words as he stared at the small freckles that dotted the skin of your face. His mind had utterly scrambled at your scent- citrus, lemon, orange... He was beside himself.

Rhys cleared his throat. "Az, I know you are not a male for words, but I think the lady deserves a simple 'you're welcome'."

Az blinked his eyes as he forced himself to say, "You're welcome." His voice was rough, and it sounded oddly like a broken-down piece of machinery.

You laughed as you slid the book from his arms. "You're Azriel," you said, your face forming into a beautiful smile that reminded him of the sun. "You're Rhys's shadowsinger and spymaster."

He hated that you knew who he was and what he did. He couldn't bear the thought of you being tainted by being in his presence. He desperately wanted to change the topic of conversation, so he said, "You're the librarian who likes smutty books."

Cassian roared, laughing so hard that the books fell from his hands and onto the floor. "Shit, Az," he said through his laughter, "maybe you should try resorting to poetry or something next time."

Rhys bit his lip, trying to contain his own giggles. "Azriel. Please do not make my new librarian uncomfortable. She just started working here."

Azriel flushed, looking down at the ground to hide his embarrassment. What the hell had he been thinking? He really had to bring up your fascination with smutty books?

You chuckled as you placed a gentle hand on his arm. "It's alright," you said. You winked at him as you turned away to walk back to the table. It took all of Azriel's restraint to keep his eyes on the back of your head as you walked away. "I can show you my smutty books if you're that interested, shadowsinger."

Az stepped back, his shadows wrapping around him, preparing to winnow him out of this place. As he faded into the world of shadows, he heard Cassian call out, "I hope you know that I'm never going to stop talking about this. I'm also never going to let you live this down."

As his shadows whisked him away, his chest tightened at the sound of your laughter, a melody that echoed in his heart. Despite his embarrassment, a smile tugged at his lips, and he hoped that Cassian wouldn't let him forget about this.

He didn't want to forget about you. In fact, maybe he would seek you out one day.

He had always been curious about the contents of those smutty books.

[honeykaes]

to land and sea

neuvillette x adepti!reader II 2.7k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, yandere themes, adepti!reader, reader is from fontaine, monsterfucking, pool sex, biting, creampie, cunnilingus, overstimulation, praise, hurt/comfort, angst, cucking, non consensual voyeurism, mention of blood, fontaine story spoilers, unedited

synopsis: with lanturn rite finally done, you decide to go relax at luhua pool only to find your former lover you haven’t seen in centuries confused on what your doing there.

The end of Lanturn Rite always felt freeing to you. With fewer responsibilities of protecting the harbor from threats to ruin the event, you finally had an opportunity to use your time as you saw fit—and most importantly, get away from him for a little while.

You walked along Luhua Pools, letting your bare curl themselves in the soft sand. The area was desolate from humans and adepti alike, for now, only accompanied by an occasional singing sparrow or the soft ruffles of swaying trees. You always admired the pools. The blues and faint greens of the vibrant waters always reminded you of your former homeland. 

Your eyes gazed at a sparrow beginning to flap its wings heading northwest beyond the large mountains of Liyue. Your eyes softened as your smile began to falter wondering if that bird would be headed towards Fontaine.

How long has it been since you were in that nation…at home? Was there still a home there for you?

You pull the robes of your attire, folding them up and placing them on the base of a nearby tree before picking one of the smaller pools and dipping into the waters. You shivered, your body trying to adjust to the temperature before letting your body completely submerge itself in the pool.

Would the cobblestone be the same? Would the food and culture be the same?

You knew how quickly humans adapted, even in Liyue. You had already heard and witnessed Fontaine’s technological feats during this Lanturn Rite. They were the nation now leading in technology, a far cry from how things used to be when you were there.

You wondered what happened to Furina.

…To Neuvillette.

“What became of you, Neuvillette…” you whispered to yourself. Your mind spiraled trying to remember his appearance from hundreds of years ago. Did he still keep that noble shape of his?

Did the reincarnation of the former dragon sovereign still have those lilac eyes of his that softened whenever he tucked a rainbow rose in your ear?

You dipped further in the water, blowing bubbles in the salty pool before sighing once more. 

“I miss you…”

A few hours pass as sunset begins to settle. Golden hour begins brightly as its rays highlight your skin as you sway your arms admiring the ripples of the water. 

Swoosh.

Your eyes dart up, looking around you to search for where that strange noise is coming from. Was it him? You didn’t exactly want to deal with your lord at the moment; you had plenty of time forced at his side for Lanturn Rite.

Your eyes whipped around scanning the land, but you didn’t see anything unusual. As you moved your gaze to the sea where the various pools resided you narrowed your eyes seeing a strange blue glowing coming from beneath the waters. It was moving fast, whatever this was, was an adept swimmer.

Before you summoned your weapon and left the pool to get your clothes, you gasped watching a head pop up from where the glowing was coming from. His hair was long and as white as snow, flowing behind him like a small river adorned with two stripes of blue. His skin was pale and dewy from the water, also illuminated in gold from the sunset.

Your eyes felt misty focusing on every curve of his face: his high cheekbones, his thin rosy lips. After all these years, he kept the same form.

“Neuvillette…” you called out. You couldn’t stop those words from leaving your mouth. His head slowly turned to meet yours, eyes widening in recognition as he looked at your form in the pool. 

The two of you remained frozen, drinking up each other's appearance desperate to make sure each other's eyes were not playing tricks.

His gaze softened before he soon swam near you. Water clung to his suit as he descended up to the pool you rescinded in. He kneeled near the edge, leaning down to your size.

“It’s you right? (Y/n)...” he muttered before placing his hand on your cheek. You leaned into his touch, chuckling as tears cascaded down your cheeks. The corners of his mouth curved upwards as his thumb tenderly caressed you.

“I thought the usurpers would never allow my eyes to gaze upon yours again. I should have come to this nation much sooner,” Neuvillette whispered. You shook your head, hastily wiping your tears.

“What are you doing here anyway? How’s Furina?” you asked. Neuvillette’s eyes twinged in pain, a sad smile coaxed over him as clouds began to form blocking the golden light of the sun.

“ She…freed her people of their curse. The nation of Fontaine is thriving more than ever,” he replied. He turned his head away, smile faltering, recalling the months that still haunted him.

“...Furina did? I wish Egeria lived to see it. I’m sure Furina is as happy as ever—”

”...The cost was a part of her life. She destroyed her throne for her people. She is now just a human, set to age as all others do,” he admitted. Your gaze leaves his, looking down at your bare body.

“I see…” you trailed off. Your heart ached. You wondered if she still remembered you. Both she and Neuvillette had to go through such troubles alone. You wondered if they felt abandoned by you.

You take a deep breath trying to process everything. You were even sure if you’d be able to see Furina in her human lifetime.

”I hope she didn’t think I abandoned her before she passed. I hope you didn’t either. I left to try to find a solution to our problem, asking the other Archons for their help or ideas but…I ran into trouble as you can imagine,” you whispered. The softness in Neuvillette’s eyes hardened quickly momentarily.

“If you’re in Liyue, I’m guessing it has something to do with Morax?” he asked. You ball your fist tightly beneath the water, nails harpooning against your palm before sighing and letting it go.

“I was almost killed by these..abyssal beasts and their poison before he found me. Apparently, he was familiar with my work in Fontaine. He offered his help to save my life and give me a solution to Fontaine’s problem. In desperation, I agreed. I was forced to become one of his adepti by that contract,” you revealed.

Neuvillette sighed, anger coaxing his brows but he didn’t touch further on your life with Morax.

“Shouldn’t your contract be fulfilled now that Fontaine is saved?” Neuvillette asked. You clenched your jaw, slowly shaking your head.

“...No. Our contract had been written that he had to give me the solution. By not telling me himself, our contract is now fulfilled and I’m stuck subservient to him. I tried to go back to Fontaine but…”

You sighed, pressing your lips against his soft palm resting on your cheek. You missed his touch, it always calmed you in times of uncertainty. Neuvillette’s gaze softened once more as he leaned in, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“I missed you,” you whispered.

“I missed you more. Furina always said I looked happier whenever you were with me,” he replied. Your arms reached out, placing your hands on his cheeks. His eyes still had that same love and loneliness peeking through his long white eyelashes as you last saw them. He was the same as before…but yet different.

Whatever had happened in Fontaine had changed him.

You slowly leaned, pressing your lips against his own. The juxtaposition of the softness of his lips and the electricity igniting by his touch in your once barren veins was jarring; but yet it remained as slow and sensual, desperate to reclaim the hundreds of years they’ve been apart from.

At the moment, you two felt as though you were back in Fontaine 500 years ago, in a field of rainbow roses near the sea, promising each other everything was going to work out.

You leaned away feeling a sharp pain on your bottom lip and the taste of iron on your tongue. The haze in Neuvillette’s eyes lightened up, realizing his mistake as he tongue grazed one of his elongated canines. He cleared his throat in slight embarrassment.

“I apologize. It’s been a long time since I had these types of desires and affection,” he admitted. You smiled as your hands trailed down finding their way on his neckpiece, slowly taking it off. 

“As have I,” you whispered. One by one, his articles of clothing that were soaked in seawater—adorned in the finest materials and jewels—fell onto the sand of the beach. In his nude form, he slowly dipped in the pool, joining you.

Your hands wandered through his body, admiring the sapphire scales that sometimes shined on his shoulders. As your hands gently glided on them, his body shuttered in response. He sucked a sharp breath in, feeling your hand grab his hardening cock, pumping gently. 

His cock held unnatural bumps and ridges. As it grew thicker and longer in your palm, you could see the bluish tone beneath the water. This was one indication that he wasn’t human; he was the incarnation of the hydro dragon sovereign after all.

Neuvillette bit his lip hard, showing off the elongated fangs peeking through his lip. His thigh moved your leg as his hand dipped beneath the water to cup your cunt. A soft moan escaped from your lips feeling his long fingers rub between your folds before settling on your clit.

“Neuvillette,” you whimpered out. It was a forgotten melody he had missed, your voice in that tone—it brought shivers throughout his body.

His other hand, grab your hand that was wrapped around his now pulsating cock before lifting it and placing it on his chest. 

”I don’t want anyone else to take you away from me…” he whispered. Neuvillette leaned in once more, pressing a soft kiss on your lips before diving beneath the water of the pool. You paused, blinking to try to process what he was up to.

“Neuvillette what are you— Oh!” you yelped. You feel his tight grip on the globe of your ass and thigh. He widened your legs, admiring the view of your quivering hole beneath the glistening light above. He leaned in, opening his mouth wide, before taking a long stripe of your cunt.

”God, I miss this taste. I always went crazy going through my ruts without getting to taste you again,” he muttered but you couldn’t hear as all that came up to the surface was bubbles. His tongue swirls against your clit, sucking the nub hard as you can feel his nails beginning to elongate and prod at the skin he clung onto.

You squirmed under his touch, trying to grind your pelvis to get any bit of friction you could to satiate your desires. Neuvillette offered a tender kiss on your clit before smiling.

”I hope you can forgive me if I become too rough..” Neuvillette murmured.

He opened his mouth again, prodding his tongue out, and soon began to grow longer and thicker in size. Pressing itself at your entrance, his elongated tongue slowly sank inside of you— shuddering at the taste of your arousal mixed with the waters of the Luhua Pools. 

Your hands grabbed at his now glowing antenna on top of his head as he groaned beneath you in response. He pumped his tongue inside of you, keeping your body in place, as you tried to squirm from his touch. 

Moving his grip around, he moved one hand to toy with your clit. While he rubbed tight circles along the bundle of nerves, his tongue curled against your spongy walls. You grabbed a mound of your chest, arching your back as the muffled noises of his name came from above.

Your essences flooded his tongue as Neuvillette desperately drank every drop that gushed out of you. As he slipped his tongue out of you, he left your overstimulated clit with one more kiss before lifting his upper body to the surface. You leaned against his firm chest, catching your breath.

“Was that too much…?” he whispered, pressing another kiss on top of your head. You shook your head, breath heavy as you tried to come down from your high.

”No. I want more of you Neuvillette,” you whispered, gaze half-lidded looking up at him. His thumb pressed against your bottom lip as he leaned in with a soft smile.

”Then more you shall receive,” he replied. Neuvillette lifted your chin before capturing your lips once more.

Neuvillette hooked your leg up as his cock slid itself against your puffy folds. Your body trembled as his blueish tip grazed against your clit. He soon sank his cock inside of you slowly. As he sheathed himself deeper inside, you could feel the faint burn from your walls stretching out to accommodate his large size. 

His lips peppered themselves throughout your chin and neck before he finally bottomed out. Letting your leg go, you quickly wrapped your legs around his thin waist as he reached deeper inside of you.

He lifted his head, leaning in close to let his nose graze yours.

“I don’t want this moment to ever end. I loved you then, I love you now. I always will,” he whispered. You two share another kiss before he begins to move. His hips rocked as the waves rippled in the pool to his pace.

One of his large hands found a way to your ass once more, gripping it tight as he rutted against you faster. You can feel his tip curve and nudge against your cervix.

As your head lulled to the side, focusing on the pleasure ripping through your body, Neuvillette gently grabbed your chin while grunting.

”Please don’t look away…I want to burn your expression into my mind…” he softly begged. His thumb pressed against your bottom lip, wiping the drool peaking out before you gently bit down the tip of it. 

Your walls fluttered, squeezing against Neuvillette’s cock pulsating and thrusting inside of you. You feel his nails sinking into the spongy flesh of your ass.

”Neuvil…ette. Neuvill—ette. Neuvillette!” you stammered out. Your eyes shut tight in pleasure, as a whine left your lips. With an inhumane growl, Neuvillette buried his face into your neck, cock throbbing inside of you before his hips began to falter.

Tears pricked your eyes as you clung to him tighter, crying out his name. Your walls clamped down, quivering as you climaxed. Neuvillette struggled to continue, his ruts getting slower and sloppier.

With a few thrusts, he shuttered, holding you tight as he emptied himself inside of you. You could feel globs of his thick cum filling you up as he gently bucked inside of you, nursing himself from your high.

You kept your eyes closed. Sweat clung to your forehead as you tried to catch your breath. Neuvillette lifted his head from the nape of your neck admiring your look. Just as he gently caressed your cheek, his eyes narrowed, noticing an odd sigil glowing that wasn’t there before.

A Geo sigil.

Neuvillette held you tight, shielding your form as he watched a man emerge from behind you in silence.

”I thought avoiding you would have been the best situation, but to think you’d find them…” the formerly known god as Morax murmured with a practiced saccharine smile on his face. 

Neuvillette was thankful your back was to him. His golden eyes were slitted in pindrops and glowing in envy. He was trying to hold his anger back.

”The Usurper Morax, know this: I’m done with you all taking things that don’t belong to you,” Neuvillette stated, narrowing his eyes.

Zhongli simply put his hand behind himself, closing his eyes as he pondered Neuvillette’s words momentarily before a soft chuckle left his lips.

“And that’s where you're wrong. Although you control the notion of justice, I still have authority over contracts,” Zhongli replied. His eyes opened, much colder than before. The earth began to shake slightly—a warning of what he was still capable of.

“You got a taste of your desires. Now, you should head back to your newly settled nation. I don’t think after such conflicts, a war is what you would look to have. No?”

[novaursa]

For your short stories, can you please do one with Cregan Stark and wife reader where he catches her trying to lift The Ice and use it, but it's too big for her. He finds it amusing but he ends up helping her.

The Weight of Ice

- Summary: You try to lift Cregan’s ancestral greatsword which he wields with ease. It doesn't go as planned.

- Paring: wife!reader/Cregan Stark

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, and is married to Cregan. For more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @daeryna @melsunshine @21-princess

The great hall is quiet, save for the soft crackle of the hearth. You find yourself alone, the faint echoes of footsteps long gone. The evening sun filters through the high windows, casting slanted rays of gold across the stone floor. Your eyes have wandered to the far end of the hall, to the place where Cregan’s Valyrian steel greatsword, Ice, rests upon a stone rack. It’s a weapon of legends, a relic of the ancient Starks—far too large for any man who wasn’t of their bloodline, far too heavy for anyone who hadn’t grown up under the weight of it. 

You’ve heard stories about Ice from Cregan himself. How it sang through the air during battle, cutting through armor and bone with ease. You’ve never dared to touch it—until now. 

The steel calls to you, shimmering in the dim light, and before you realize it, your feet are carrying you closer. There’s something in your heart, a mix of curiosity and something deeper. A desire to feel its power, to understand a piece of the man you’ve married by holding what he wields so effortlessly. Your fingers brush the hilt, cool and unforgiving under your skin. A sense of anticipation builds in your chest as you wrap your hands around it.

You try to lift.

Nothing.

You shift your stance, planting your feet more firmly. With a grunt, you attempt again, pulling with all your strength. The sword barely budges from its resting place, its weight far beyond what you anticipated. You can feel your muscles strain, your breath catching in your throat. 

Still, it refuses to move.

A low chuckle fills the hall, rumbling like distant thunder, and your heart skips. You freeze, fingers still wrapped around the hilt of Ice, and turn to find Cregan standing in the doorway, arms crossed, watching you with amusement gleaming in his grey eyes. His mouth curves into a smile, the kind that never fails to make your pulse quicken. 

“Were you planning to fight someone, my love?” His voice is deep, warm, laced with affection that softens the teasing note in it.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you can’t help but return his smile, though a bit sheepishly. “I was only curious,” you admit, releasing the sword and stepping back as if it had betrayed you. “It’s… heavier than I expected.”

Cregan walks toward you, the sound of his boots echoing softly across the stone. His presence fills the room, as it always does. “Ice was forged for a Stark’s hand,” he says, reaching past you to grasp the hilt with ease. The sword lifts smoothly, effortlessly, as if it weighs nothing at all in his grip. “But you wanted to feel its weight, didn’t you?”

You nod, slightly embarrassed by the admission. He steps closer, towering over you in a way that should be intimidating, but never is. His expression is soft, full of affection, and something deeper that you can’t quite name. 

“Let me help you.” His voice is low, intimate, and before you can protest, he guides you to stand in front of him, your back pressed lightly against his chest. The warmth of his body seeps into you as his arms slide over yours, his large hands engulfing your smaller ones. You can feel the strength in him, the controlled power that comes so naturally to him. 

“Ready?” he asks, his breath warm against your ear.

You nod, your heart racing at the closeness, at the sensation of being enveloped by him in every sense.

Together, your hands on the hilt, Cregan lifts the sword again. It’s still impossibly heavy, but with him guiding you, the weight seems more bearable. Slowly, he moves your arms, guiding Ice through the air in a slow, deliberate motion. The sword hums faintly, the Valyrian steel singing as it cuts through the empty space, and you feel a thrill rush through you.

“You see?” His voice rumbles through his chest, and you can feel it vibrate against your back. “Ice isn’t just heavy. It’s balanced, precise. You don’t fight the sword—you move with it.”

You focus on the way his hands guide yours, the ease with which he controls the greatsword, and yet… there’s something deeply intimate in the way he teaches you, in the way he holds you so close. Your breath catches as he leans his head down, his lips brushing against the curve of your neck as he murmurs, “You don’t have to be strong to wield it, Y/N. Just… in sync with it.”

You can’t help the shiver that runs through you at his touch, his words. He presses a soft kiss to your temple, his grip loosening on the sword as he lets you feel the weight of it again, just for a moment, before taking it from your hands entirely. 

The sword clatters softly back onto the rack, and you turn to face him, your chest rising and falling with the remnants of excitement and something more. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. There’s an understanding between you, a shared moment that lingers in the air like the afterglow of a storm.

Cregan lifts a hand to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek with the same care he used to guide your hands just moments before. “You don’t need to wield Ice to be strong,” he says softly, his eyes searching yours. “You are fierce in your own way.”

You smile at that, leaning into his touch. “I wanted to understand,” you whisper, “to know what it feels like, the sword you carry.”

His lips curl into a soft smile, and he pulls you into his arms fully, holding you close. “You already do, my love. Ice may be a part of me, but so are you.”

The words wrap around you, grounding you in a way that the sword never could. His arms are your fortress, his heart your shield. And in this moment, standing in the warmth of his embrace, you realize that the weight of Ice pales in comparison to the depth of the bond you share with him.

“I’d say you’ve done well for a first attempt,” he teases lightly, brushing a kiss across your forehead. “Though perhaps next time, you should let me handle the Valyrian steel.”

You laugh softly, resting your head against his chest, content in the warmth of his arms. “Next time, then.”

And as the fire crackles softly in the hearth, the great hall feels a little smaller, a little more intimate, with just the two of you standing together, wrapped in each other’s warmth.

[evilgwrl]

TF 141 x Reader (Apocalypse!AU)

Immune: Nine

WARNING: This is a 18+ Poly!141 series (MDNI)

CW: Attempted suicide, unknown watching as someone gets changed, SIMON BEING THE CUTEST MAN ALIVE, kissing and bum spanking

Taglist: @beebeechaos @h3art3at3rr @johannxseb @cndy-l0v3 @nylluns @pomegranategum @tapioca-marzipan

ANYTHING IN ITALICS IS A FLASHBACK

Masterlist

The summer air was a broil of wet leaves and burnt tar, roads simmering with clouded fogs of steam that snipped at the exposed flesh of your leg. Your bike was worn, tyres nearly flat from the consistent rummaging of scarred rocks tearing the innocent rubber into a battered mess.

Your legs were inflamed from the constant use, thighs straining against bones and weathered skin. Sweat stuck to you in a damp layer, the occasional fly suckling at the salty residue. There was a gentle strum of moans, ripped jaws sloshing against rotten teeth, skin a ghastly contrast against the greenery. They didn’t care for you, walking past you like you were one of them.

It was a sick punishment.

You thought back to the first couple of days after. After Vienna. Steel supported rough fingers, muzzle pointed under your chin, the chill of cold tickling down your throat, trapping your oesophagus with an arrogant choke. Nimble fingers unclicked the safety, a line of tears streaming down your face pathetically.

You didn’t do it. You weren’t sure which was weaker, staying or leaving.

Blood ran through your chest, beating down to the tips of your wrists, eyes gauging through the flesh as if you had x-ray vision. You would no doubt be scorned with blisters later, the sun kissing you with fat welts filled with liquid medicine as you rolled in used sheets, unable to sleep.

You stared down the winding road, a companion of butchered shops lined up by the corner, untouched. It wasn’t rare for you to venture far, always taking a main road that would eventually lead you home.

You pushed through glass doors, majority of the crystal shattered across the concrete. There was a gentle ding of a bell as you entered, a lone zombie trailing towards the noise, disappointed at the sudden disappearance of its senses as you smashed a blade into the centre of its head, the stench of death filling the shop as you gagged. You weren’t sure you would ever get used to the smell.

The store was disappointing at the front, but you knew the stock room held liquid gold. Your knees skidded over the counter, a till smashed across the floor as you laughed. You wriggled the STAFF ONLY door, your shoulders working to barge it open. There were unopened boxes of candy that caught your attention, sticky tape quickly stuck to the wall as you delved through, a child-like innocence adorning your face as you tore apart a chocolate wrapper.

A sick moan of satisfaction ran through you as you stuffed more bars in your bag, teeth rotting with gooey caramel. Your feet padded against the floor, achy limbs begging for a rest as you sat down on a bench, uncomfortable wood barely supporting you. You scoffed back an apple, a small container full of buttered bread soon resting in your stomach.

You groaned as you chugged the majority of your water, the liquid quenching the Sahara in your throat as it stained your chest, a light dribble working down your chin as you sighed. Eyes stared at the bike resting against a brick wall as you looked up, noticing the flock of birds make their way through the sky, gradual darkness soon blending into the baby blue.

Dirtied nails scraped against the glass of your final destination, a small boutique with a flickering sign greeting you with the smell of dust as you pushed the door open. Nimble fingers worked your sweaty top off as you tried clothes on, wiping the grotty mirror down with an ugly rag of a shirt.

Dark eyes watched you from a rooftop, covered face twisting into a scowl as he watched you prod at yourself in the mirror. Your flesh was greasy, a sweet shine covering your muscles as he fixated on the way you moved. He stared at you through the lens of a sniper before placing it next to him as you walked out, bag round with clothes and the minimal amount of food you could find.

You didn’t notice him, his body stealthy as he adjusted, eyes immersed in you as you rode off. They would head your way tomorrow, he decided.

Thick hands ploughed at the wood; an axe gripped between his fingers as you watched him intensely. Your eyes gawked at his biceps, chiselled muscles bulging under the sun, a glisten against his skin from his work.

“That enough?” His voice was thick, a mixture of molten and sweet honey lacing him. His aura was earthy and masculine, his need to prove himself to you evident as he looked to you for approval.

“Good enough for me,” you replied, attempting to grab a log of wood before he barked that he would do it, snatching it from your grip.

Your eyebrows twisted up in annoyance as you crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m not useless, I was the one doing this before you all came along.”

“Didn’t mean to offend you, sweet’art, just don’t want you to hurt yourself again.”

It was impressive watching him work; his forearms stuffed full of wood as he placed it in the small collector next to the fireplace. This was your first time being alone with him, his large frame was intimidating at first, but his shitty dad jokes couldn’t help but pull a smile from you.

You pulled him into the barn, introducing him to your cows, Daisy and Ted. He wasn’t fond of the names, but he felt himself nodding, watching the way you greeted them like they could speak, eyes full of admiration at the way you handled yourself.

“I’m hoping she gets pregnant, she’s my lifesaver,” you cooed, swatting the cow gently against her rump as she huffed out a breath. Simon raised a brow at you, a cocky smirk against his face.

“Don’t think about it,” you scowled as he turned around. Quick hands swatted at his ass as he grunted. Ghost was trained for anything, his hands at your waist as you squealed, quickly thrown over his shoulder with a huff before you were dropped in a bale of hay, endless giggles wracking through your chest as he peered down at you with a grumpy look.

You noticed his eyes crinkle as your laughter slowly subsided, both of you staring at each other with an amused look. His hands stilled at your waist, gripping them slightly with a warming touch.

“What’s your real name?”

He paused for a moment, thumb rubbing at your rising tummy, a pool of butterflies sinking into every crevice of the muscle. “Simon.”

You repeated it several times back to him, enjoying the way it fell from your lips as battered eyes focused on them, watching the way your tongue wriggled in the heat of your mouth as you spoke.

“You like it?” He asked, voice lower with nerves. He wasn’t sure why he was nervous. But he was.

You nodded at him, glancing from his eyes down to his mouth. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, bringing his hand to your cheek as your mouth opened slightly, eyes never leaving his. He paused, ready to turn away from you.

He didn’t.

Instead, he leaned in, pushing the mask down his chin in a rough manner before he kissed you, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip before easing it into your throat. He was strangely gentle, almost like he was scared to hurt you. The Lieutenant’s hands gripped your face as you pulled him in by the scruff of his neck, deepening the motion. 

His eyes were voids of burnt sugar, a hinge of toffee speckling through as they merged into his iris. He was warm and inviting, the slight tang of his saliva running through your taste buds as he welcomed the sensation of you, a hand dropping to your throat with a delicate squeeze. 

Simon pulled away with a slight gasp, catching the breath he wasn’t sure he was holding.

“I don’t want to rush you.”

You only smiled and brought him back in.

[dmitriene]

cw: poorly described virginity, simon likes staning pure things, kidnapping.

outlaw!simon riley meeting you as nothing but a pretty waitress at a saloon, standing out among the dimly lit vast room in that you did not look like anyone from the crowd, only an indiscriminate mess of men around you, drunken workers, alcoholics, loudly screaming lovers of starting a conflict, and just someone hiding with a cheap prostitute, cheating on his wife behind the walls of home abode.

simon sees it's like some cruel joke alive, you look like you've just just run away from your daddy's cozy, rich home, or from the convent boarding house like a typical good girl, too bloody clean for this place, and maybe that's why he's enveloped in incomprehensible emotions, clouding his mind with thick wisps of smoke as he moves through the roaring crowd to the farthest table, hiding not only behind the scarlet mask on his face, but also in the murkiness of an unlit corner.

you're not walking around the room, you're sliding, a long dress fluttering at your ankles, open by light shoes with a small heel tapping on the parquet, to the beat of softly played music on the piano nearby, allowing you to occasionally wag your rounded hips under the many skirts of your dress, not paying much attention to the visitors' gliding glances at your bouncing cleavage, but you feel a burning gaze on the back of your neck, until you free your hands from the freshly placed orders, and finally notice a new visitor.

simon catches your gaze on him, his pale eyelashes barely visible in the darkness that envelops him as if in a kinship embrace, so you don't see how his oppressive gaze focuses on the curves of your body, dark irises dilate to swallow the perilous blackness of his lazily hooded eyes, swirling deep with something unsettling, yet you are too pure to notice the clinging, engrained filth on his hands and the meaningfulness of his gaze, smiling greetably like a ray of morning sunshine, closing the distance between you and his table to take an order.

he orders a whiskey, cocks his head aside to lick his eyes up from your toes to your head, and you just pull on a bigger smile and nod obediently, not a word about his rough tone of voice, about the absence of a nice plea for you to bring him some, you go to the counter with your toes turned around and take one of the many brown bottles to fill a nice, clean faceted glass, pouring three fingers of alcohol that smells clearly of vanilla and spice, melting onto the leather and tobacco that penetrates simon's nose as soon as you come back and put the glass next to his gloved hand with a thud.

you peer cautiously through your wispy eyelashes when he hoists the black fabric with skull jaw up, bunching it beneath the edge of the crimson, as well skull shaped mask to take a sip from the glass, and you look at his thin chapped lips that he moistens with tart alcohol, the opened curve of his neck where the mask no longer touches the high collar of his dark shirt, adorned with a gold trinket engraved with a scorpion, and when his lips suddenly stretch in a toothy grin, creasing his eyes that now gleam with amber glows, you almost shriek and turn around, feeling your cheeks warm up.

and simon is not a good man at all, maybe as good as an outlaw can be, but it's nothing compared to your pureness, an innocent glint in your shyly running eyes, clean hands that easily wipe the dirt picked up from visitors on a small, light apron on your waist, and more than once he spoiled things that seemed beautiful to someone, just as he has long lost all shame and sympathy for such things, besides, looking at your reaction, he is quite sure that you yourself would not refuse to end dirtied up, by him.

with your curious glances, the fiddle of your fingers that tremble at contact with his own, not like with everyone else, as he brushes his whole palm against your hand on purpose while crooning about how unsuitable you look around there, and he can't blame himself for the longing want of bending you right here when you giggle, a little ringing sound that provokes him to squeeze his knees under the table because his empty glass is in your hand, and his suddenly aching cock makes his trousers too tight.

it's night behind the wide glass windows at the entrance when people begin to disperse, and the saloon seems to shrink when it's just the two of you, he's still at the rounded, wooden table, and you're knocking empty bottles behind the counter, putting them in a wooden box to return to the storage room, noticing simon's figure behind you not immediately, only when he runs his hand along the curve of your waist and to the dip of your hip, snuggling almost close to your ass, and you shudder barely perceptibly when he hoarsely offers to help.

you don't act surprised or either hard to get when he slaps the wooden door of storage room behind you two, twisting the key and sprawling two heavy hands at your hips, hurriedly turning you to face him before his lips descend against yours, lips open wide in knocked, whiny gasp, when he shoves his tongue in a wet, sloppy kiss between your slack lips, tugging you against him by snaking his hand behind you, pressing onto the small of your back, as he walks you towards the wall.

simon sees how you give him the reins, clumsily following the movement of his tongue in your mouth as he runs it over your teeth and curls the muscle around your own, ripping at his leather gloves that fly off towards the closer of the shelf, getting lost there when his bare, scarred arms bunch your skirts up and he hoists your body, making your legs loope around his waist, heels slipping off with a thud against the wooden floor, and when his touch rubs up your knees and swipes to your thighs, he almost howls at finding the pantaloons that are so uncomfortable to take off.

it's a loud rip of fabric that makes you gasp, sound swallowed by his hungry mouth, as his thick fingers find your puffy folds that drip off with saccharine wetness, making his digits tacky as he spreads your folds and toys at your peaking, neglected clit, as you kick your feet, head tilting back against the wall, making you retreat from the kiss with a shy, whiny moan, and simon smugly sure you have an virgin little hole that drips just for him, wetting the short curls of your pubic hair.

you sweat when he unzips his trousers and let's his fat cock bob out, the veiny girth of him, twitching with oozing, pearly precum that dribbles down his uncut, rudy length makes you throb, and he feels it, fingers already buried in your stretching cunny that is gooey with your glossy juices, coating his digits in glistening sheen as he thrusts them in you, fisting along his leaky dick with other hand, lining up with your pulsing entrance just as he starts to slip his fingers out.

he reinvents you for himself, stretching your thin, silken walls around the meaty girt of his cock, letting you feel every inch that pistons slowly in and out of you, careful, not nearly enough so you won't feel the sting, yet you still moan prettily, each wet glide making you tighten with rapid pulse of your tight walls, snug around every vein that rubs against your gooey insides, the hold of his fingers are bruising at your thighs, staining them with your slick that were clinging to his fingertips, as you moan with strained, whiny mewls.

simon fills you up when you get too tight, starting to arch off the approaching feeling, making his hands glide from your thighs towards your round, plush hips, gripping onto them to grind his cock inside of you, thick cockhead slamming against your spongy little spot with small, deep circles, his eyes boring into the sight of your eyes rolling back, sparks erupting behind your eyelids with each canting movement of his hips, and you wail when his cock jerks and spills ropes of cum against your cervix.

your whole body spasms, the thin walls of your pussy that milk his cock, your legs that tighten around his waist, the painfully arched spine, as your head tilts aside, eyes glassy with eyelids growing heavy, simon's hands moving to support you behind your back, cradling your slowly limping body against his sturdy, clothed chest, as the other finds purchase at the back of your head, pressing your face into his shoulder, letting you breathe into lulling scent of smoke and leather that clings to him like from a bottle of whiskey.

simon's cock still carved in you, your pussy spasming, dripping his milky cum down onto the wooden floor, and there's a satisfied growl rumbling in his chest, the one that makes you nuzzle closer, huffing at his scent and curling your body, and he's never been one to believe in the rules of being obligated to marry a girl with which you've been fornicate, but there's no way in the whole west that he's gonna leave you in this saloon for anyone to have, after being marked by his seed.

not that you have anywhere to run when you wake up at the dawn of a new day, uncomfortably wet between your legs, rocked up and down, fluttering your eyes only to be meet with silent, empty outskirts of the wild west, while cradled against simon's chest, one of his hands holding the horse's rains, making the animal ride slowly, as he holds you close with the other, feeling easily the way you shift, his gaze snapping down at you with a leery twinkle, a crooning purr of “good morning, darlin'„ slipping from under his mask.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[enwoso]

First of all I wanna say how much you deserve every single follower, you're always so generous with your fics and deliver way quicker than I'd ever possibly be able to! Thank you for sharing your writing!

As for a request, could I request something about Grumpy with the ACL girls?? I feel like she'd be a proper little ray of sunshine that makes their tough days better!

YOU’VE BEEN STICKERED! — alessia russo x child!reader

the message at the top of this request actually made me smile so much when i read it this morning so thank you nonnie<33

grumpy masterlist

it was another day at the arsenal training ground and was one of the days where you had came with your mum as your weren’t at nursery that day.

you had a current obsession with stickers and giving everything and anything you could a sticker, to say the least alessia was sick of having to pull colourful stickers off her walls at home forever cursing her older brothers for buying you a sticker book.

she was sure her brothers did it just to wind the her up.

so you were armed today with a pack of colourful stars, some red, some blue, others gold and silver. alessia having to constantly remind you not to stick them onto walls while in the car after catching you beginning to decorate her car seats with the said stickers

“oh i just need to stop by the treatment room” alessia was talking to steph who was wondering why the blonde was walking the opposite direction to the changing rooms, you saying an enthusiastic hello to the australian who giggled at your excitement saying hello back.

“someone’s happy today!” steph laughed as alessia hummed before you both went your separate ways.

walking into the treatment room, the room filled with all the girls who were out with an acl. leah, viv, teyah, beth and laura all sat with a similar bandage on their leg. some were further ahead in their recovery others just in the beginning stages.

beth out of them all was only a couple weeks away from being back on the pitch, so she was just in their for her routine checkup before being allowed out on the training pitches with the rest of the team.

“hey alessia, is everything okay?” one of the medical staff asked your mum as she started to talk to her as you made a beeline for viv, startling her a little as she was laid on the treatment bed with her eyes closed.

“boo!” you giggled as viv rolled her eyes, beth laughing from beside you both as you climbed up onto the bed.

“lovie be careful, remember viv’s got a big ouchie!” mummy called out as you nodded, your stickers still grasped in your hand.

since arriving at arsenal and coming out of your shell, you’d always been a ray of sunshine. often helping the girls keep a smile on their faces, especially the acl girls.

some days you would sit and draw with them, like the other day you sat with teyah as she helped you draw your own little fantasy world, teyah making sure you added in all the people you deemed important giving them their own little important roll in your fantasyland.

and other days you would just be their little helper, like if they were in the gym and they dropped something like a hair tie you would be first to pick it up. you kind nature showing through but in your head it’s just cause you had seen how sad they all were when they couldn’t play like the rest of the girls.

so in your little head, you thought doing the small things and making them happy would help speed up their recovery and fix their big ouchies.

even though unfortunately it didn’t exactly directly help fix the acl squads ouchie and non of them had it in them to break your little heart and tell you it wasn’t that, that help their knees, you did help to make the girls happy even on their darkest days when their spirt levels may have been a bit lower than usual, you were their little ray of sunshine even if you didn’t exactly know or understand that.

“hi pinda” viv said with a smile as you looked at her confused, a new nickname she always called you klein which you had to ask lotte to tell you what meant. quickly finding out it meant tiny in dutch, so that was nothing new cause that was what everyone called you expect mummy, you were her lovie.

“what dat mean?” you asked as viv smiled shaking her head a frown appearing on your face. “tell me!” you begged as the dutch shook her head.

“bethy!” you called out as the blonde stopped her conversation with leah and turned to you with a bright grin. “yes tiny, what’s up?”

“vivy won’t tell me what she saying in dutch!” you pout as beth give the dutch a playful glare, siding with you.

“viv tell tiny what you said please”

“i just called her a peanut!” viv defended herself as your furrowed your brows not understanding why she was calling you that. “hey i no look like a peanut!” you sulked.

“no no, it’s just a reference. like another way to call word for tiny” viv quickly recovered as she could begin to see your lip wobble. you ohhing at her explanation, not kind of understanding what the dutch said.

“ooo what are these for?” beth pointed to the sheets of paper in your hand which were in fact your sticker packs.

“‘tickers!” you beamed holding them up proudly, starting to peel each one of the paper and sticking them to beth’s phone case.

“oh there cool!” beth said as alessia came over, having finished getting her checks before training. “that was fast!” alessia mumbled watching as you stuck sticker after sticker to beth’s phone case, each one a different colour star.

beth looking up at the blonde with confusion, “what do you mean?”

“you fallen as lovies first victim of being stickered!” alessia sighed, this was what her nightmares looked light recently, you sticking stickers to anything. alessia was sure that some days she woke up with stickers on her.

beth laughed, sort of thinking the blonde was being a little bit dramatic. “are these next on the banned list then?”

“most definitely, along with the pens!” alessia grumbled still trying to figure out a way of trying to get you to forget about the stupid sticker books however gio and luca definitely not helping the matter as every time you were with either they gave into your small demands!

“you’ve been stickered!” you giggled holding up beth’s phone proudly, beth having a similar look of excitement on her face as you did over the new sticker obsession.

you were now sat in the gym with laura and leah they were still doing some strength and conditioning exercises for their knee as they were the two the furthest from returning just yet.

“la-la where you going?” you asked as laura was beginning to get up, you hopping up out from beside leah much quicker than the austrian.

“just to get my water from over there, don’t worry winzig!” she laughed softly as she still continued to get up, wincing slightly as a pain would shoot through her knee.

“no la-la, i get it! you might hurt your ouchie!” you got up quicker before running to the other side of the gym, trying your best to avoid anything that you might trip over.

out of breath as you handed the red water bottle back to the austrian who was talking with leah. “oh thank you winzig, you are a superstar!” laura smiled big at you as she patted you on the head as you slotted back into your original seat next to leah.

picking up your sheet of stickers and placing them on your drawing you’d been doing previously, drowning out the sound of leah and laura’s boring adult conversation.

however it wasn’t long until your sticker sticking got a little rough and you went from the paper on the floor to leah’s water bottle then laura’s and then to the bandage on that covered leah’s big ouchie.

it being a while until leah actually noticed the brightly coloured stickers due to being too concentrated in the conversation with laura. glancing over at you to make sure you were okay, when she noticed your small hand placing a blue star sticker on her bandage.

“oh- tiny your not supposed to put stickers on there—” leah smiled sadly at your little artwork you’d done on her bandage. you looking over your shoulder with a smiliar sad smile.

“sorry le, just wanted to make it look pretty” you mumbled going back to your piece of paper from before.

“tiny, your all good. your making it look beautiful and i supposed i’ve got plenty more at home i can use!” leah quickly back tracked not wanting to have hurt your feelings after seeing your upset demeanour.

your frown quickly turned back into a smile as you went back to placing the star stickers on the white bandage. a look of relief on leah’s face as she avoided the chance of a meltdown happening.

a gasp came from you as you looked up seeing your mummy enter the gym. “mummy!” you yelled running towards her as she lifted you up with a laugh at your sudden excitement to see her.

“hi lovie, what have you been up to?” mummy asked as she lifted you down from the air as you rested on her hip as she walked towards the two girls.

“um helping le and la-la with their ouchie and decorating!” you said proudly, a sense of achievement in your voice.

“oh aren’t you clever-” alessia pinched your cheek as she said her hellos to the two girls. “ah you’ve been a victim of the stickers too!” alessia chuckled to herself letting you down back onto the ground as you ran off towards the rest of the girls who were coming through the double doors of the gym.

“what? oh yeah, it’s to make it look pretty!” leah joked repeating what you had told the blonde when putting the stickers on the bandage.

“and your bottles!” alessia chirped with a sigh as she pointed to the girls’ red bottles covered in shiny stickers.

“and them! i thought it was just your leg!” laura commented as she picked her bottle up examining the the extent of the damage cuteness.

“yeh well just try and imagine my pain of having to pick them off my walls, car seats, fridge, phone case, or anything her little hands can reach!” alessia listed, a slight sarcasm in her voice as the two looked at the blonde wondering if she was joking or telling the truth.

alessia could only wish she was joking.

“i don’t know how you do it less, your a literal superwomen!” leah compliments speaking truthfully and from the heart, leah did wonder how the blonde managed everything she did do. especially when leah often struggled to cook herself a decent meal

alessia nodded, “she’s too cute so that outweighs anything!”

[sarahscribbles]

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏.𝟏𝐤

𝐀𝐍: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲

On any other occasion early evening was your favourite time of the day. 

It was then that you would feel the last rays of sun hit your back, prompting you to swivel in your chair and take in the sight of Manhattan in golden hour. Watching the sky above dance through its hues of gold and pink and orange never failed to calm you at the end of a busy day, and, oftentimes, watching the beauty of the iconic New York skyline would have you pause and think that maybe everything wasn’t so bad. 

Most evenings, you could lose yourself in appreciating the beauty of where you were and the life you got to live.

But not today. Today was different.

Today, the day lingers heavily on your shoulders long after it’s over, each problem you couldn’t solve and person you couldn’t please hanging around you like a pissed off poltergeist. Days like this make you feel like running away. It would be easy, really - you’d beg Tony to let you use his private jet and follow the Gulf Stream far away from your office and all the annoyances that come with the job. It would be so easy, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been sorely tempted by the idea more times than you can count, but you know it’s nothing more than a daydream you’ll never follow through on. 

Because leaving New York would mean leaving the one thing that makes it all bearable. 

He’s sitting on the sofa when you finally walk through the doors of your apartments, looking effortlessly elegant even dressed in plaid pyjama bottoms and a cashmere sweater. He glances up quickly at the sound of your footsteps - you know he’s been listening out for them since the moment you clocked out - and the smile that breaks across his face is instantaneous. 

“There she is,” he says softly in greeting, and there’s a quiet thud as he closes the book sitting in his lap. “I’ve been waiting for you.” 

There’s no accusation in Loki’s voice, but you still inwardly cringe. You had needed a few minutes to compose yourself once your colleagues had filtered out, not wanting to alarm your fiance by arriving home teary and agitated, and now you’re home fifteen minutes later than usual, something you had hoped Loki wouldn’t notice. 

But it’s Loki. He notices everything. 

“Yeah. Sorry I’m so late.” You force the words out, hating how thin and strained your voice sounds even to your own ears. 

You want nothing more than to curl up beside him on the sofa - your safe space and your best friend - but your feet carry you through to the kitchen instead. It’s as though your brain refuses to allow you to seek comfort, like your day hasn’t been bad enough to warrant the feel of Loki’s arms around you. You’re desperate to run to him, to curl up like a child beside him and let him hold you because nothing bad can ever happen to you when you’re in his arms. 

Instead, you’re fumbling around the kitchen for a glass and a bottle of wine, vision blurry with tears that you won’t permit to fall. 

You curse when the bottle hits the glass and almost topples it on the granite counter. You brush tears away with one hand while the other shakily pours the pink liquid into the glass until it’s three quarters full.

It’s then that you feel two gentle hands on your hips.

“Hey.” Loki’s voice is soft and soothing against the thunderstorm in your head, and you don’t fight as he cocoons you firmly in his embrace. “Bad day?” 

You lean your head back on his shoulder while he nuzzles your hair, unable to do anything but nod as the tears freely begin to flow down your face. Loki’s grip on you tightens and you feel him firmly press a kiss to your temple.

“Come here, dove,” he murmurs and easily turns you around in his arms. 

He holds you tightly against him and you finally let yourself drown in the comfort of him. You match your breathing to his and focus on the sound of his heartbeat thumping in your ear. This man, this beautiful, wonderful man, loves you - it’s one thing that he’s never made you doubt, and one thing that brings you a modicum of peace at the end of an unbearable day. 

Loki kisses the crown of your head and slowly starts to rock you both side to side. “I am in awe of you, my darling. Day after day you deal with softheaded fools with nothing but patience and grace. If it were me I’d run them through where they stand.”

You sniffle against his chest, to which he gives you a gentle squeeze. “HR said I’m not allowed to stab anyone,” you answer, feeling a tiny bit lighter now you’re with Loki. 

He clicks his tongue in disapproval, but you feel his smile against your forehead. “A senseless rule if you ask me.” He lapses into a comfortable silence once again, moving a hand to cradle the back of your head against his chest.

The problems of the day haven’t gone away - you know they’ll still be waiting for you once Monday comes back around - but they grow smaller with every minute you spend in Loki’s embrace. 

“I love you, my extraordinary little mortal,” he whispers into your hair, and then gently untangles himself from you. 

You whine quietly at the loss of his warmth, but he’s quick to rest a large hand reassuringly on your hip. His thumb strokes your side through the material of your top while he reaches for the wine glass still sitting atop the counter. 

“Make a start on this while I run us a bath,” he says, placing the glass securely in your hands. 

“That sounds perfect,” you reply thickly, brushing away the tears that are still falling down your cheeks. 

Loki smiles that soft smile that’s only for you and cups your cheek in his hand. “Darling thing,” he murmurs softly and leans down to kiss you slowly. “Sit,” he then nods to the sofa, “and I’ll get you when it’s ready.” 

There’s nothing but devotion in his voice and in his touch as he absently traces his fingers along your arm. Usually, you’d fight him if he tried to wait on you too much, arguing that it isn’t fair, but tonight you’ll gladly let him take care of you. 

You curl up on the sofa in the spot that Loki has left warm and listen to the calming sound of running water from the bathroom. You listen as the man you love more than life itself prepares to adore and dote on you. 

Everything would work out okay.

[sfehvn]

new religion

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Description: AU- Astarion is enamored by you, and while he fights it at first, he may have just found his new religion. A/N: Just a tad bit of sweet smut to be honest. This was my listen while I wrote if you were curious. Enjoy! xx Rating: M (18+ minors DNI) Word count: 2,069 Characters: soft!ascended!Astarion x fem!au!Tav

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  From the moment Astarion had seen you, he knew he had to have you. Walking through the animated city of Baldur’s Gate, your radiant smile was the first thing that had caught his eye. Flowing hair kissed your shoulders adorned with freshly plucked daisies. Your aroma was the most intoxicating scent that had graced his nose in all of his years. Your rose-tinted cheeks teased with the blood flowing beneath your flawless skin. Your eyes sparkled with wonder, reflecting the rays of the sun above. He had never been a believer in the love at first sight nonsense, yet there you were. If his undead heart could beat, he was sure it would be skipping against his ribcage. It was the only time the vampire had found himself utterly speechless. 

  For months, he watched from afar, finding excuses to go into town. Not that he had to excuse anything to anyone, but the newfound feelings were frightening, to say the least. Alas, day after day Astarion went out, whether for a drink or an unnecessary shop trip, and he would wait to get even the slightest glimpse at you. He was aware that this obsession was snowballing out of his hands as he fell harder and deeper. Hells, he had never even spoken to you. Yet he knew nearly everything there was to know. 

  He knew every other day you made your way to the apothecary to pick up medicines for your sick father, whom you cared for. He knew once every fifth day, you picnicked in the graveyard next to your mother’s grave. He knew your favorite color was yellow because it reminded you of the summers you spent with your mother before her untimely passing. You had six siblings: an older brother and five young sisters. 

  Astarion had also realized that you had a death wish, apparently. You were constantly staying out past sundown, running errands or helping neighbors. Did you even comprehend the dangers? He would often think to himself. Of course he had to follow you home to ensure you made it inside safely. You were becoming a liability to him, and quite frankly, he was terrified of how you made him feel. Just when he had decided to end this one-sided arrangement, there you were. Sat on the side of the road with tears pooling rivers down your cheeks, his body felt out of his control as he approached you.

  He stood in front of you, his words caught in his throat. You stared at him with those big doe-eyes, and his knees felt like jelly. “Are you alright?” He finally managed out. Gods, what am I doing? I should just sink my fangs into her and be done with it. It’s just bloodlust. This was something he had tried to convince himself of many times already- a lie.

  “Oh, yes.” Voice sweet and smooth, like the finest honey gold could buy. “Just this silly book.” You giggled, holding up the novel you had previously been engrossed in before Astarion had found you.

  “Right. Good.” He clears his throat in an attempt to regain his composure and still his spinning mind. “I’ll just be on my way then.” You nod, gifting that sweet smile to him. Astarion felt his legs would give out beneath him if he stayed longer, but he didn’t move an inch.

  The man intrigued you, ruby red eyes and skin pale as the snow that fell during winter. He was gorgeous. An aura of mystery surrounded him, and you were keen to discover those mysteries. “Say, you live in that big fancy manor?” You question, breaking the awkward silence that had befallen you two.

  “I do. Why?” Skepticism was palpable in his tone. 

  You disregarded his tone, and he believed it to be your naive nature. “You have the most exquisite daffodils blooming alongside your walls. I didn’t want to pick them without asking.” Your smile is sheepish, innocent. Astarion doesn’t speak, his face unreadable. “I-I enjoy putting bouquets together. I don’t mean to-” He already knew this, obviously.

  “They are yours.” Astarion can’t contain the smile that tugs the sides of his lips.

  As you two stroll to the location of said flowers, Astarion finds himself loosening up in your presence. He watches you intently, the way you move your hair from your face as you carefully pluck a few from the group. He urges you to take more.

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother. These are plenty.” You assure. In response, he crouches down next to you to help pluck the remaining flowers.

   After walking you home, Astarion ordered flowers to be planted around the grounds. With the help of just a little magic, within weeks, roses, peonies, sunflowers, and carnations bloomed healthily. You would come with a fresh serving of food, a bouquet as thanks, and collect the flowers. As naive as you were, you could recognize what Astarion was doing. The daffodils were a one-off in that area, but now flowers surrounded the entirety of his property. The rate at which they grew, too; you were aware some effort went into getting them to blossom so hastily. At every mention of a new flower, the next time you came, they were miraculously in bloom.

  This compromise had been in full swing for months when you finally questioned him about it. Astarion was on his knees as he snipped red roses from the bush, insistent on doing it himself so you didn’t prick yourself on a thorn. “Why are you doing this?” You question, a wicker basket that was already overflowing held firmly in your hands. 

  “I told you, you’ve nabbed yourself on these blasted thorns one too many times.” His reply came without a look in your direction as he continued to snip the stems.

  “That’s not what I meant.” A soft chuckle emanates from behind closed lips. He looks up at you in realization, his hands coming to a halt. Your breath catches in your throat as he stares at you wordlessly, longingly. Standing slowly, he takes a step closer to you. He drops the roses into your basket before cupping your cheeks, closing the distance between your faces. The kiss is electric. You drop the basket to your feet, arms snaking around his neck while he presses your body tightly to his, clinging to you like a prayer. His lips were a colder temperature than you expected, but they were soft and hungry. 

  That’s how Astarion ended up with you in his bed. As he eagerly ripped the pale blue dress from your body, you took note of the bouquets around his bed chamber. Every single one you had gifted to him was on display and in perfect condition. Your heart flits in your chest, eyes closing in ecstasy as wet kisses trail up the inside of your thighs. A soft moan is elicited from you as his mouth reaches your warmth, his tongue flicking teasingly along your slit. Your fingers thread into his stark white hair, instinctually tugging with every contact against your clit. Colors explode behind your eyelids from the euphoric excitement.

  He pulled away briefly, with his starving mouth against your thigh, he spoke muffled words, “I don’t think you realize how long I’ve been waiting to hear that, darling.” Your breathing quickens as you look down at him between your thighs with hooded, lustful eyes. His mouth returns to your clit and he suckles lightly, two fingers dipping into your dripping center. The sensation brings your back into an arch, aching to feel him deeper inside of you.

  The swirling motion of his tongue brings you close to the edge, your legs shaking mercilessly. Astarion’s free hand moves between his torso and your legs, holding them steady as he continues his work on your body. Just as you are about to cum, he places a final kiss on your mound before his eyes meet yours. “You’re much naughtier than I thought.” He tsked, crooning his neck at you before moving up your body.

  Your lips meet passionately, his tongue slipping effortlessly into your mouth to meet your own. He creates a gap between you as one hand holds him up, quickly removing his trousers and undergarments with his other hand. He pressed his bulge down onto your warmth, hitting your sweet spot as he grinds against you. “Do you taste how lovely you are?” He murmurs, plunging his tongue further into your mouth. You can only let out a delighted moan in response.

  Once he breaks the kiss, you press your slippery core harder against his erection. “Please fuck me.” You whimper lustfully, “Please-” Your words are cut short by the sensation of him rubbing the head of his cock against your clit, causing a delicate moan to leave your throat.

  “Fuck. You’re soaked, my darling.” He coos. As much as Astarion wanted to continue to play with your body, he needed to be buried in you as quickly as he possibly could. He slides the head of his member from your clit, pushing slowly into your welcoming embrace. He savors every sensation as he enters you. There is a momentary flicker of pain on your face as you adjust to his size, and he falters for a moment.

  “Have you done this before?” He asks quietly, pressing his forehead to yours, avoiding your throat to save himself from temptation. He cursed himself inwardly for even asking; he shouldn’t care. This woman brought a side out of him he had never met before- a softer side. The scariest part is he actually, well, liked it.

  You wavered for a second before shaking your head, confirming that he was indeed the first man to have ever been in such a position with you. The thought makes him feel feral. Such a sweet flower trusting someone like him to take your virtue; he would never admit it to anyone, but honor and pride swelled in his chest. He nodded in acknowledgment, “We’ll go slow, pet.” He reassures, hips rocking delicately into yours as he fills you with as much of him as he can manage without causing you discomfort. He lays a gentle kiss on your forehead as your pain turns into pleasure, still-shaking legs wrapping to engulf his hips.

  “A-Astarion.” His name sounded like a hymn gracing his ears from your mouth, and he wanted to devour you right there and then. It took everything in him not to plow you into the bed. His hand rests on the bedframe as he finds a comfortable rhythm, eyes never leaving your face. He wanted to soak up every reaction to his touch.

  “You drive me crazy, pet.” He grunts as his pace quickens, gripping the mahogany wood tighter at the magnetic pleasure buzzing through his body. He uses his free hand to effortlessly move you further up into a slightly seated position as his thumb once again finds your clit to draw purposeful eights over it. 

  “I-I’m- Oh my gods-” The moan is loud, music to his ears as your walls tighten around his cock.

  “That’s right. Be a good girl and cum for me.” It’s a stern demand, all to mask just how close Astarion was himself. His words push you over the edge, your body clinging to his for support as the euphoria rushes over you. Every hair on your body standing on end, you throw your head back and scream Astarion’s name thrillfully. 

  With you coming undone, he allows himself to reach fruition, his seed filling you to the brim. His hand on the frame loosens, and his head hangs, face full of gratification. He looks down at you, pulling his now-soft member from you, a satisfied sigh leaving your lips as you stretch contently, much like a cat. Your eyes were droopy, a giddy smirk on your face as you fought to keep them open. Astarion chuckles, pressing another kiss to your lips. “You can sleep, my darling. I’ll wake you in a little.”

  Astarion swore he felt the tiniest tinge of warmth in his heart at the sight of you so comfortable cuddled into his side as you dozed off. This could be a welcome change. Maybe his undead life just needed his very own light, his own sun. All he knew was that he was done fighting it. One weakness couldn’t hurt.

[cosmopretty]

I'm foaming at the mouth for kk harvey x figure skater reader I BEG

Her Star

Caroline Harvey x Fem

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Being a figure skater was a sport that some people didn’t take seriously since it wasn’t as rough and didn’t have a ball. But to you it was one of the hardest sports to do, considering how difficult and dangerous it can be.

You breath heavily holding your chest as your stand in the middle of the ice rink. It’s late too late to be practicing but you had to fly out to preform in the Olympics tomorrow so you needed all the practice you could get. It’s not your first time at the Olympics , when you were sixteen you won gold at the European Olympics. Now you’re eighteen and have to prove to everyone you can still win gold in the USA Olympics.

You grab your phone and check the time just for it to be almost one in the morning. Your brain rushes a mile a minute trying to figure out what to do next. You sigh and playing your song again and start your routine over one last time from the top. Around the middle of the routine your girlfriend Caroline walks into the rink and watches you through the glass, you didn’t notice her too focused on your routine and the music playing in your ears.

You do a few turns and start skating faster so you can do your quads. Your body turns in the air successfully making three quads before you do a few turns again and you jump trying to do five quads before your body falls and your arm hits the ice hard. You scream and hold your arm groaning, KK runs onto the ice and bends down “What hurts baby? Come on your okay” she asks your eyes filled with concern. You shake your head tears streaming down your face, you hold your arm “Fuck it hurts really bad KK I can’t- it’s- fuck” you start breathing very fast.

“Relax okay? Breath with me mama yeah follow my breathing” she says holding your in injured hand on her chest so you can feel her breath. You follow her and calm down “My arm hurts really bad” you cry out holding it close to your body.

Caroline nods and gets up grabbing your waist holding you up with her, she helps you off the ice. You sit down on the bench while KK unlaces your skates and pulls them off for you before sitting next to you. You look at her and sigh “I have to go tomorrow I can’t get this checked out till after” you say not daring to make eye contact with the taller girl.

KK looks at your like your crazy she couldn’t understand why you would go knowing your injured “What you injured you can’t still go what if you get injured more?” She asks you confused.

You shake your head “I won gold once I have to prove to everyone I can do it again” you say standing up and look down at the girl sitting down. KK pulls your waist bringing you in between your legs “You don’t need to prove anything you’re amazing and everyone knows that baby” she tells you brushing a piece of your hair from your face. You shake your head no “But if I’m injured I can’t go tomorrow and I worked so hard” your voice cracks.

KK stands up pulling you into a hug making sure not to touch your injured arm in any way. She kisses your forehead “Yeah and there will be a next time okay no we need to go to urgent care or something right now because your injured” she says sternly raising her brows at you.

You nod slowly and she helps you put your sneakers back on and you both walk back to your car. She opens the passenger door for you and puts your seatbelt on for you, before going to the drivers seat and staring to drive you to the nearest urgent care. You hold your arm close to you “I can’t believe this happened” you pout looking up at the ceiling so you don’t cry.

Your girlfriend looks at your form the drivers seat for a second, and grabs your hand “Don’t worry it will be okay no matter what you have me baby” she tells you rubbing your knuckles.

When you both get to the urgent care a nurse starts taking x rays of your arm while KK waits for you in the other room. The nurse walks you back into the waiting room and you sit on the chair your leg bouncing up and down. KK grabs your knee “Relax mama” she says sternly when the nurse comes back in. The nurse smiles at your sadly and puts the x rays down in front of you “What happened is you fractured your arm and will be in a cast for four to six weeks” she says.

You shake your head groaning “I have to preform tomorrow I’m figure skater. Can I go and perform?” you ask. The nurse shakes her head “No for a at least a month you will have to rest and ice your arm a fracture is serious and it needs to heal” she tells you before walking out of the room.

Your head falls in your hands “Don’t worry baby there will be others okay. You have to let your body heal” KK says rubbing up and down your back. You shake your head no at her words “What if I’m not good enough after this?” KK rolls her eyes at your question.

“Your one of the best figure skaters there are baby, no one can do what you have done on the ice” KK tells you holding your chin in her hands so you can look at her. She wipes your tears “Your going to be great okay don’t worry baby your my star” she tells you.

You laugh “I’m sorry I was so dramatic and ifs in the middle of the night we should go home and go to sleep” you say getting up but the nurse walks in with a cast to put on your arm. She grabs your injured arm gently and wraps it for you “Here don’t get the cast wet, you can take it off when you shower but be careful” the nurse advices before handing you papers to sign.

You and KK end up driving back to her dorm room it being almost three in the morning now. You change into a pair of panties and one of Caroline’s hoodies. KK pulls you down onto the bed and brushes the hair from your face “My star” she says biting her lip. You blush a bit and look at her “Yeah and you’re my star player” you say before grabbing her chin and pulling her into a kiss.

KK’s hands squeeze your waist as she slides her tongue in your mouth. She flips you both over and your head falling down onto the soft pillows. She pulls away and kisses down your neck leaving wet hot kisses down it till she pulls away “Let’s go to sleep” she says getting off of you.

You groan “Your such a tease” you say turning around while she moves her head in your neck spooning you. Her breath fans your neck “You love it baby” she whispers kissing your neck before closing her eyes and the two of you fall asleep.

[talesofesther]

𝔈𝔠𝔥𝔬𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔞 𝔉𝔩𝔞𝔪𝔢

↳ 𝐂𝐡 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐀 𝐭𝐨𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬

Aemond Targaryen x Reader/fem!OC

Series Summary: You made a promise to Aemond once, when you were young and naive, and the only friend he'd ever known; yet you abandoned him before you could fulfill it. Between broken bonds, a betrothal, and flames that still burn deep within you; this is the story of how you fell apart and found each other again.

A/N: This chapter is a little event-heavy at parts, I hope it's not boring, but all is essential to the plot. <3

Word count: 4,9k

Masterlist | Previous chapter

There would be a supper.

The whole family united once again at the Red Keep, Viserys had said; had wished.

You, along with Helaena, Baela, and Rhaena decided to get ready together. Helaena had been a good friend to you during your stay at the Keep when you were younger, and she, unlike Aemond, had been overjoyed with your return; welcoming you with a tight hug and wide smile.

Now, you stood before the tall mirror in the princess' private quarters, slowly twirling in your heels as you held the fabric of the black and gold dress she'd given you.

"Oh, you look divine, it suits you brilliantly," Helaena exclaimed, softly clapping her hands together. She came to stand behind you, clasping a golden necklace around your neck. A finishing touch, as she'd said earlier.

"Are you sure?" You asked timidly, glancing between Helaena and your sisters who sat on her bed waiting for you.

Baela nodded, a smirk stretching her lips, "It's beautiful, sister, dare I say that perhaps you should indulge in gowns and dresses more often." Her tone was playful, she knew you better than that already.

You scoffed halfheartedly, looking down at yourself and the rich dress you wore—intricate golden details were sewn into the dark fabric, the skirt wasn't bulky but it was long enough to prompt you to take care of where you'd be stepping. "I can only imagine trying to ride with something like this."

"Maybe if you spent less time on dragonback and more time being a proper lady you wouldn't have to wonder," Baela teased, raising a brow at you and holding back a chuckle.

Your cheeks warmed up, it was true that more often than not you favored the company of your dragon over other people; finding an easeness to being yourself when her fiery gaze held nothing but devotion for you. Yet you narrowed your eyes at your sister, "And you set a fine example, do you, sister?"

Baela simply shrugged, falling into a fit of giggles shortly after. You, Helaena, and Rhaena couldn't help but join in, as the last rays of sunlight seeped through the thin curtains.

─── ⋄✧⋄ ───

The arrangements for the supper started being made as soon as the sun vanished on the horizon, a large table set with the finest of feasts, illuminated by several candlelights and torches as the maids brought forth tray after tray of fruits, meat, bread, and wine. A small group of musicians even stood at one corner of the room to provide entertainment.

As the King wished, the whole family was indeed present. You and the girls were the last to walk in before Viserys arrived. Baela and Rhaena kept on towards their seats beside Jace and Luke respectively, while you hung back when Helaena tugged at your hand.

You turned to the Princess then, taking hold of her other hand as well. From the corner of your eyes, past the table and the figure of Aegon, you caught a glance of Aemond; his brother spoke with him but he didn't appear to be listening as his eye met yours. He looked at you rather unabashedly, a barely there smile hinting at the corner of his lips as he gave you a curt nod in greeting.

"Tell me you'll be staying."

Halaena's voice captured your attention again before you could react to Aemond, and your gaze fell back onto her.

She squeezed your hands, "For a while, at least," she smiled, a little shy but genuine, "I could use the company."

"I-" You hesitated, unsure if it was even up to you to decide. You settled for giving her what you hoped was a reassuring smile in turn, "I can certainly try to."

It seemed to be enough to lift her spirits, as she let go of your hands to walk toward her seat at one side of the large table, while you headed for the other, closer to your father.

Viserys finally arrived, his chair being carried by four guards as it would be too much effort for him to walk. Everyone stood up, out of respect for their King, father, grandsire, and uncle. The silence was held in the warmly lit room until he was in place beside Queen Alicent.

One of the nearby guards pulled a chair out for you when everyone sat down again and you thanked him with a nod and a smile. You were sitting at one end of the table, just beside Rhaenyra and your father, and Aemond happened to sit at the opposite end, looking directly in your direction.

You refrained from meeting his stare again, part of you could feel the tension lying heavily in the air and, amidst so many other people, you found it best to ignore and avoid questioning and curious glances. Instead, you noticed Rhaenyra looking at you, one hand resting atop her pregnant belly and the other holding her chalice of wine, a gentle smile on her features. "You look lovely, darling."

Glancing down at your hands in timidness, you mimicked her smile; "Thank you, you do as well."

Much like Laena before her, Rhaenyra had always been kind to you. When Rhaenys had taken Baela to ward on Driftmark, Rhaenyra had subconsciously done the same to you, she'd treated and educated you as her own; While Daemon taught you how to handle a sword, she'd shown you everything she'd learned as a young princess at the royal court, as well as lessons in High Valyrian—which you caught on pretty quickly and had the time of your life rubbing on Jace's face, dropping random lines in the old language only to watch him roll his eyes halfheartedly.

Daemon would usually try to hide a smile whenever he caught you and Rhaenyra together, just as he is now.

"How good it is, to see you all tonight," Viserys spoke slowly, his voice tired and taking much effort off him, drawing everyone's attention, "Together."

Alicent suggested a prayer before eating, and so you drew your hands together atop the table and closed your eyes. While she spoke you felt the familiar weight of Aemond's gaze on you; the waters were still murky between you and him, and despite having already exchanged a few words, you still didn't have a single clue of where you stood with each other. Things still felt… strange and out of place, the invisible wall dividing you stood ever so high.

Viserys then proceeded to raise a toast to both Jace and Luke, and their betrothed Baela and Rhaena; with a special mention to Luke being the future Lord of the Tides.

You raised your cup along with everyone else, a small smile hanging on your lips as you inclined it towards Luke before taking a sip; stealing a smile from the young boy in return.

With a tap of his cane on the floor, the King stood up from his seat, albeit with slow and unsteady movements as his body barely supported his weight anymore. "It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow, to see these faces around the table," Viserys spoke, taking a steadying breath between each word as he looked around at every member of his family. "The faces most dear to me in all the world, yet grown so distant from each other in the years past."

At the other end of the table, Aemond's heart bled at the last of his father's words. He clenched his jaw, eye remaining downcast, and observed the gentle flickering of the candlelights atop the table. He refused to look up again as he knew he'd get trapped by how the golden light of the fires highlighted the outlines of your face, as you offered that kind smile of yours ever so freely to the very people who'd once hurt him.

The one-eyed prince wanted to be angry at you, to say he didn't care whether you now favored Rhaenyra's bastards over him. But a more stinging feeling decided to take hold of his heart, and he felt bitter and hurt with envy… and longing.

Viserys then removed his golden half-mask, exposing his decaying face. "My own face… is no longer a handsome one," he jested with a bittersweet grin, "If indeed it ever was. But tonight, I wish you to see me as I am." The King gestured at himself, his voice holding as much conviction as he could muster, "Not just a King, but your father. Your brother. Your husband. And your grandsire. Who may not, it seems, walk for much longer among you."

The room held the silence for a moment, everyone feeling the grim reality hang heavy in the air. Aemond chanced a glance up then, only to find your eyes already on him. The prince gulped, closing his hand into a fist as he held your gaze; gentle, welcoming, caring. For someone who had abandoned him, you still insisted on looking at him with unbridled sympathy.

"Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts," The King insisted, "The crown cannot stay strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. My firstborn, Rhaenyra, will assume the throne once I'm gone, and I wish her rule to be as peaceful as mine. With her family stood by her side." Viserys weakly hit the table to accentuate his point, looking around himself as everyone remained quiet yet with attention trained on him.

"So set aside your grievances." Around the table people from both sides of the family looked at each other, the unspoken tension still present, anyone would be able to see it. "If not for the sake of the crown, then for the sake of this old man... Who loves you all, so dearly." Viserys finished at last, falling back onto his chair as the exertion of speaking took its toll.

Rhaenyra was the first to raise her cup, in a toast to Queen Alicent, who in turn, raised her own cup to the Princess. Both seemingly rather committed to acquiescing to the King's wishes for peace and unison.

Their sons, however, had diverging ideas.

Aegon had been having quite the fun teasing Jace about his new betrothal, and you nearly choked on your wine when the Velaryon boy suddenly slammed his fists on the table, standing up. You glared at him as you set down your chalice, even if he wasn't looking at you.

At the other end of the table, Aemond slowly got up from his chair as well, keeping quiet yet with a narrowed, nearly taunting eye. You brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose, entirely fed up with the boys' antics.

With a tight smile and a voice bordering on sarcastic, Jace raised his cup; "To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond, we have not seen each other in years," he glanced in your direction for a moment, yet you couldn't read what his look meant, "But I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we can yet be friends and allies. To you and your families good health, dear uncles." Bringing his cup to his lips, Jace finished his toast with a teasing grin.

You played along, bringing your chalice back to your lips as well to hide a chuckle. Eyes ahead, you held Aemond's gaze while you took a slow sip, watching as he settled back in his chair. Candlelight burned within his pupil, there was a barely there sway to his lips as he took a sip of his drink as well.

"I would like to toast Baela and Rhaena," Helaena started, getting up and holding her cup as she turned to your corner of the table. "They'll be married soon. It isn't so bad, mostly he just ignores you," she spoke, tone soft despite the lamentable words, "Except sometimes when he's drunk."

You shot her a sympathetic smile when she finished, and when she saw you, Helaena quickly added; "And to my good friend," she spoke your name with fondness, "Whom I've missed dearly, and hope to share more days together, before she leaves again."

"I hope so too," you mouthed to her with an even bigger smile, raising your cup high before bringing it to your lips again. The wine burned down your throat in a mix of bitter and sweet, and you turned to Aemond out of instinct, only to find him pointedly avoiding your eyes this time around; his head angled away from you and towards the band at the corner, his blind side now turned to you, eyepatch over the scar that brought telltales of a tightness to your throat and made you gulp down another sip of wine.

A cheerful melody began as the musicians played their instruments. At last, supper proceeded without interruptions; Jace invited Helaena for a dance, many more food trays were brought forth, and your family was happy, laughing and talking and being together as if this had been your normal for the past several years.

Yet for you, there was a gaping wound that was Aemond's absence, a doleful sentiment in your heart at the clear distance that still lingered. He still refused to look in your direction, instead keeping his eye focused on Jace and Helaena as they swirled together. You watched his fingers tap the table rhythmically, posture ever so straight with his hair falling neatly over his shoulders. It felt wrong to be at the Keep and not have him by your side.

You were in the middle of pushing food around your plate with your fork when you heard Luke quietly chuckling beside you; once, twice, and a little louder. The boy had what seemed to be a rather mocking smile on his lips as you glanced at him, with your brows furrowed in mild confusion.

Aemond abruptly slammed his fist on the table, causing you to startle and snap your head forward. The music stopped, and the one-eyed Prince raised to his feet, holding his cup high. "Final tribute," he spoke rather calmly.

Silence lingered in the room, and you could feel tension and apprehension coming back into the air as everyone waited with bathed breath. You glanced around yourself, sitting straighter, but ultimately your attention landed back on Aemond.

He held your gaze for a moment, and he had a smug tilt to his lips but the glint in his eye you couldn't decipher. "To the health of my nephews," Aemond continued steadily, "Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…"

There was a pause. With trouble a wrong word away, you knew. You furrowed your brows, shaking your head to Aemond almost imperceptively. He looked away from you then, focusing instead on Luke, who sat beside you.

The one-eyed Prince hummed, and grinned. "… Strong."

"Fuck," you cursed under your breath, feeling the weight in the air pressing down on your chest.

"Come," Aemond chipped, his smile widening and cup still raised high. "Let us drain our cups to these three… Strong boys."

"I dare you to say that again." Jace challenged in the same heartbeat, having stopped his dance with Helaena, his chin raised high and fists already clenched.

"Why?" Aemond turned to him, standing just as tall, "It was only a compliment." He walked towards the older Velaryon boy, a cocky stance and self-satisfied grin betraying his words. "Do you not think yourself strong?"

Aemond had barely said the rest of his words when Jace's fist collided with his cheek in a firm punch, forcing the Prince's head roughly to one side, his long hair flying with the motion yet none of his wine was spilled.

And so the brewing tension tipped over the edge.

Both you and Luke abruptly raised from your seats, chairs loudly scratching the floors. Luke barely managed to take a single step before Aegon unceremoniously pushed him face down onto the table, plates clattering with the disturbance.

Someone screamed; "That is enough!" Yet you couldn't really figure out who, as you hurriedly rounded the table. Why, you weren't exactly sure, but your heart was pounding.

Aemond easily shoved Jace to the ground, turning away with a chuckle falling past his lips as the guards proceeded to hold Jace from fighting back.

Everyone was standing up from their seats, some faster than others. Your father had a bored look on his features while Alicent and Rhaenyra seemed quite alarmed with the small fight unfolding amidst their family yet again, right after the King had begged for peace.

You stood frozen to the stone floor, breath hitching until there was a distant sting in your lungs. You couldn't help but think if both sides of the family were fated to be forever apart. And if you and Aemond were to share the same destiny.

"I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, mother," Aemond explained without an ounce of shame when Alicent grasped at his arm—as mothers do with misbehaving children, you couldn't help but think.

A low hum fell past Aemond's lips again and he pried his arm free from Alicent's hold, in favor of taking a few steps closer to Jace, bordering on provocative; "Though it seems my nephews aren't quite as proud of theirs."

Jace shook himself free from the guards who had been holding him back. He dashed for Aemond with reckless abandon, a furious expression on his features.

And you… suddenly all you saw was your best friend, blood on his lips and face held together by fresh stitches—doomed with a fate you'd die before allowing to happen again. There was a flame pulsing through your veins, it spurred your feet forward before you even had time to think.

You reached Aemond at the same time Jace did, and you came to a stop between them, one hand flat against Jace's chest, keeping him in place. You stood between them, unafraid, with a fury in your eyes—the same one people kept saying you'd taken after your father.

Seconds of silence trickled by ever so slowly, like drops of the thickest blood. Everyone's eyes were on you yet for the first time you paid no mind to it, narrowing your eyes and glaring through your lashes, you held your ground. Jace clenched his jaw and huffed through his nose, his eyes a mix of confusion and anger.

You could feel Aemond's stare on your back as well, yet you couldn't have a single clue what he was thinking, you only knew it was heavy and insistent. You couldn't know how the one-eyed Prince's heart started thundering inside his ribcage; or how any and all thoughts of striking up trouble had vanished like smoke in the wind when you stepped in front of him, when yours was the hand that stopped the Velaryon boy from attempting to harm him.

"That is enough, Jace," You spoke with a finality that left no room for argument or challenge, leveling Jace down with a step forward, which forced him to take one back and away from Aemond. "We are here to make amends, not make things worse." Lowering your voice, you tried reasoning.

Jace scoffed indignantly at you, he seemed to have other words on his tongue but decided to bite them back. Instead looking at you with a scowl on his face; "You tell him that", he nodded toward Aemond, who stood behind you with a small yet proud smile.

"Go to your quarters. All of you, go. Now," Rhaenyra finally intervened as she and Daemon approached you, shifting a warning glare between Jace and Luke.

The young Princes hesitated, the oldest still holding a staring contest with Aemond. Yet when you refused to move aside he relented to his mother's orders and followed his brother, as well as Baela and Rhaena, to their quarters.

A shaky exhale passed through your lips when, slowly, the adrenaline left your body. Your shoulders slumped and you closed your eyes briefly, hearing nothing but the crackling of the burning torches on the walls and a few distant steps as your family left the room—supper most certainly over now, even if half the meals on the table were barely touched.

Aemond's presence was warm and persistent behind you; you could feel how he had come closer, breath almost fanning over your neck, but you didn't dare turn around. Instead raising your eyes to meet your father's gaze.

Daemon had both hands resting on the hilt of his sword. He regarded you with amusement, if nothing else. One corner of his lips turned upwards. You watched as his gaze drifted up and behind you, his expression hardening the slightest bit in what looked a lot like a warning, before he too slowly turned around and left the room.

You couldn't know if your father's silence meant something good or bad, but right now you couldn't dwell on it. Aemond took a step around you at last, his eye remaining downcast, yet a shiver ran up and down your spine when, as he walked past you, his hand brushed yours.

You kept your eyes trained on him as he slowly walked away, turning right and taking the path to a secluded hallway. After a few seconds of debating, you followed.

─── ⋄✧⋄ ───

Aemond's steps were not hurried, moonlight coming through the tall windows of the lone hallway created a silhouette of his shadow as he wandered. Waiting for something, someone. With hands loosely held behind his back and silver hair almost shining under the soft light, he seemed… serene.

Yet the Prince was anything but, his eye was hazy and unfocused whilst his mind drifted. It had taken him off-guard, how you stood between him and Jacaerys, one hand firmly holding the bastard back; and if Aemond didn't know better, he'd dare say there had been a protective aura to your presence then, undeniable and unwavering, as you shielded him—the mere thought of it left Aemond lightheaded as his heart picked up pace, and he decided it'd perhaps be too dangerous to indulge.

But you had taken his side, nonetheless. Against his own volition, Aemond found himself smiling.

"Had you been looking for opportunities to ruin supper?"

The familiar sound of the one voice Aemond had missed so dearly, for so many years, made him halt his steps. He kept his back to you, only turning his head to glance over his shoulder. He hummed, keeping his voice steady and neutral. "I don't know what you speak of, my words were innocent and true."

The low sound of your chuckle graced Aemond's ears, and he held onto his breath as you came closer. His eye tracked your movements, you circled him with your gaze down and the light of the moon shaping your grin, until you reached the stone walls beside him and leaned back in front of the tall windows.

Caught in your orbit, Aemond was drawn to you, taking one and then two steps after you; he stood before the moonlight and before you. He kept his distance yet never strayed far, trapped between two halves of his heart; one naive and bleeding with longing, and the other broken and still abandoned.

"Oh," You breathed, a glimpse of your teeth showing with your grin, the apples of your cheeks highlighted by the silver haze of the moon. "As innocent as a maiden."

"The night had been much too dull for my tastes, my lady. Wouldn't you agree?" Aemond raised a brow at you, fighting a grin of his own.

"Perhaps I would, had you not taken away my chance of toasting you and your remarkable sense of decorum." The smile on your lips gets a little loose having Aemond so close again, "Or lack thereof," you teased; he seemed oblivious to the warmth you felt.

Aemond clicked his tongue, glancing away and then back at you, "Shall I grab us two cups of wine then? Aegon tells me I should drink more anyway." If the light of the moon weren't so silver and bright, you would've seen the pink dusting his cheeks ever so lightly.

Another chuckle escaped you and Aemond almost joined you. And for a small moment in time, it was easy. For a moment, you were both eleven again, young and carefree and laughing together. Always together.

But the cold wind of reality seeped through the open windows.

"Se dārys eptan syt lyks," You spoke, becoming quieter and more careful as your smile dropped a little and your gaze raised in hopes of finding his. ('The King wishes for peace.')

Aemond pursed his lips, blinking once, twice, and you wondered if he felt it too. He took you in with a guarded stare, hesitating, until; "iksis bona skoro syt ao iōrtan rȳ nyke se nādrēsy?" His voice was tight yet devoid of much sentiment. ('Is that why you stepped between me and the bastard?')

You lowered your head with a sigh, avoiding his eye again and focusing instead on the ends of his long hair and how the silver strands contrasted with his Targaryen blacks. "Don't call him that," you mumbled.

"Why?" Aemond inquired in the same heartbeat, a little louder and urgent, "Because you've grown so fond of them over the years you've-" He choked on his own words, unable to speak them out loud as he felt the heartache inside his chest and around his throat eat him alive.

"Aemond." And oh, the sound of his name in your voice could make him crumble. You spoke it all soft and tender, and Aemond didn't know his name could be uttered with such devotion. You spoke as if you cared, as if you had never left. It felt like a cruel kiss over his gaping wounds.

You pushed yourself off the wall you were leaning against, one hand slowly wanting to reach for him. "I could never forgive them for what they did to you, but they are… family now."

But Aemond took a step away, straightening his posture and clearing his throat. The one-eyed Prince strived to keep his face devoid of any emotion, even if it was nearly impossible as a sharp pain started from the depths of his skull and eventually surrounded his scar—he knew a pounding headache would soon follow too, as it always did.

"Why did you do it?" Aemond mumbled, voice stiff.

You regarded him with an unreadable look for several moments, and then; "I don't know." You spoke in an almost unheard breath.

It felt as if a dragon stood in the lone hallway with you, threatening to burn both you and him; the heat of its flames looming in the corners since the first time you saw each other again. With your heart in your mouth, you asked what perhaps both of you had been avoiding until now.

"You stopped sending me letters, why?"

It caught him off guard, you saw it in the way Aemond turned his head from you with a grimace, his jaw tight. "It became pointless... after such a long time. Did it not?" He looked at you again only after he spoke, there was something accusatory in his eye; or that's what he wanted you to see.

You mulled over the words, and something akin to boldness—or desperation—urged you to take a step closer to him. "Aemond, our time apart," your lips hung open and you fidgeted with the fabric of your dress, "I never meant for it. It was never my intention to stay away for so long." You promised, looking Aemond in the eye after seven years of only ever seeing him in your memories and dreams.

Aemond's face did something complicated, like he was sorting through how he should feel about this. His brows scrunched and you could hear his breath catching as he stood unmoving.

"My father… he thought it best that I didn't leave Dragonstone on my own." You ran your tongue over your dry lips, "And I… didn't fight him." The last of your words were spoken with a defeated sigh, loaded with regret.

"I could have gone to you," Aemond uttered, almost whimpered. The corner of his lips raised in a half smile that held nothing but pain as his eye pooled with unshed tears that blurred your silhouette. "Had you only asked."

Both of you hung by a thread under the weight of how much you'd missed each other, how much you wished for nothing more than to fall into a forever embrace; and yet, none of you felt entitled to it. You were finally within arm's length of each other again, yet it felt like you'd never been further apart.

"Perhaps I should have," you whispered to him, and it felt a lot like a loss, of something you'd only just found again.

For a moment you and Aemond held each other's gazes, both filled with tears of sorrow and longing; and even so, both reaching the mutual agreement that something had been lost.

Time.

The time lost couldn't be returned, the distance still lingered, and rebuilding would take time and care.

Aemond still believed you'd stopped caring for him, sometime during those seven years. An evil part of his heart sometimes whispered to him that you never did care, that you were like the others, and he feared that perhaps the only friend he knew wasn't even his to lose.

And you now believed that Aemond held only resentment toward you, that your connection had been forever stained; and you couldn't help but feel guilty for it, for not fighting harder to come back to him.

If only you and he knew the depth of the love you still felt for each other, things would be ever simpler.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

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Those Eyes Chico ༓ myg (m) | chapter one

✑ Summary: As the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour, you’re expected to bring your expertise to the table. This shouldn’t be a problem—you’re the best in the business and you’re used to drawing a strict line between your professional and personal life. But what happens when the lines you’ve fought to keep as separate blur for the first time?

pairing: idol!yoongi x plus size!poc!reader

genre/AU: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, coworkers2friends2lovers, winter setting, forbidden love,

word count: 6.5k+

warnings: oc is 28, Yoon is 30, oc is not originally from South Korea, oc has light brown eyes, swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, body insecurities, fear of being blacklisted, emotionally restrained yoon, unstable parental relationships, conservative parents, rude Hybe executive that should be fired, bestie!tae is wonderful support 🥹, and cute yoon and oc interactions bc yeah....its thier first time actually meeting so it must be cute!

now playing: Sweet Dreams by The Last Shadow Puppets

a/n: YAHHH chapter one!! Ok i apologize if the meeting is so long and drawn out...I really tried to make it fun but so much info is needed too haha. Anyway this series is dedicated to my wonderfully crazy friend and sorta beta, Gloom @theuselessdaydreamingidiot, and to all our fellow Yoon lovers bc we miss our sweet man SO MUCH 🥺 Enjoy! 🥰 Also huge thank you to @itaeewon for designing this beautiful series header! Love it!!

Series Masterlist | next chapter >>

Winter in Seoul feels like stepping onto the set of your most beloved holiday film.

As the brisk air wraps around you, delicate snowflakes gather atop your head, urging you to cocoon in your finest wool trench coat. Yet, despite the chill, the sight of frost-bitten trees basking in the morning's golden rays offers a source of warmth and delight. Perhaps the most radiant tree of them all is the towering Christmas tree that sits proudly in the heart of the city. Adorned with shimmering red and gold baubles, the giant evergreen catches the eye of every person that walks by–both tourists and locals alike.

Nearby shopping malls buzz with holiday fervor too as shoppers scour for treasures, couples engage in friendly competition to find the ultimate gift, and children line up to take their picture with Santa. But the best part is when night falls. The whole city comes alive with joy and laughter as loved ones meet one another on the ice-skating rinks, while karaoke bars echo tipsy renditions of timeless songs sung by overworked professionals, each with a bottle of soju in hand.

Yes, Seoul is a place for making memories and you’re in the thick of it.

Having been in the city for three years, one might assume you’ve become well accustomed to the energy of the season. You've really grown to love it here. But adjusting to the new environment is still proving to be a challenge, the most outstanding being the prevailing beauty standards.

Massive billboards featuring stunning models serve as constant reminders of the type of beauty one should aim to achieve as you commute to work. Impossible to miss are the shining examples themselves – iconic k-pop groups Seventeen, Red Velvet, EXO, BlackPink, Mamamoo, TXT, and of course BTS plastered on the side of every flat surface imaginable. You’re not exactly complaining about that aspect as you’ve helped design a good handful of them as a top marketing and advertising professional. But the strict image of what constitutes a beautiful and worthy individual weighs on you more than you’d like.

While a conventional body type isn’t what you’ve been given in this life, you don’t consider yourself to be completely unattractive either. Having high cheekbones, a strong jawline, striking light brown eyes, good enough ass, and a full chest shouldn’t classify as undesirable. Still, you wish you’d adopt this more body positive mindset rather than your current overthinking one. It’s easier said than done, being that you not only see idols everyday on the streets in digital form but at work as well.

You continue further into city until a set of tall, glass doors meet you mere steps away. You tilt your head back to catch the name of the skyscraper before nearing the building’s sturdy, silver handle.

BigHit Music.

Feeling its cool metal under your fingertips, the door swings open with an easier pull than imagined to welcome you into the bustling lobby. You feel a rush of confidence return to you upon entering– this is your domain, this is where you truly shine.

“Did you get the files I sent to you?”

The woman nods her head in affirmation while sweeping a few pieces of her long, silky hair behind an ear. To strangers, she appears to look about 24 which is only four years younger than yourself but nonetheless she’s the same age as you. Hei-Ran is her name, meaning “graceful orchid” according to Korean translation.

Hei-ran is one of Hybe’s newest hires and based on her experience, a near perfect fit to being South Korean boy group Tomorrow X Together’s new marketing manager. Until about three months ago, this had been your job.

You never imagined giving up the position after three years of working in the role. But with December right around the corner Hybe had other plans for you.

"Graduated summa cum laude with a bachelors degree in BTech in Electrical and Electronics Engineering and a MBA in Marketing from NYU Stern. You worked two years as a brand manager for U.S record label Atlantic Records immediately after graduating, and are now working at BigHit Music as a marketing manager for TXT including liaison with their global marketing team.”

You recall Bang PD's voice vibrate in the back of your mind from mid-August. You thought you were called into his office to discuss details of TXT’s latest promo, so having your resume read back to you was a sweeping curve ball. Your determination must have far exceeded the heaviness you felt in your chest because before you knew it you, you were shaking hands with your boss in acceptance of your role – the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour.

The tedious knot that’s formed in the nape of your neck reminds you that as surreal as the situation might be, it’s undeniably real.

Months spent drafting a comprehensive marketing proposal for D-Day; often until the wee hours of the night, inevitably takes its toll on even the mightiest of warriors. An entire new team of fifty people, all of who you’ll be in charge of orchestrating for the next eight months, doesn’t provide much to relief either.

You’re excited nevertheless. Working with one of the most respected artists in the music industry is an opportunity you couldn’t let slip by, especially since the album’s rock-inspired genre aligns closely with your own music taste.

“Thank you so much for helping me get settled __,” Hei-ran’s gentle voice returns you to the present. “I appreciate the time you’ve taken these last few months to train me despite the tight deadlines you have.”

Smiling, you shake your head. “It’s no problem at all and if there’s anything you need in the future, feel free to give me a call or stop by my office.”

“On the 16th floor right?”

“1656A. Take a left off the elevator and walk to the end of the first hallway. The door on the right is mine.”

Referring to any room on the 16th floor as your own is something you don’t take lightly. For one the offices are double the size of any other office spaces in the building. Yours in particular has a giant skyscraper window draped with heavy white curtains. Secondly, the floor above is the 17th floor which is exclusive to Hybe artists only.

"How's the proposal coming along, by the way?" Her curiosity is palpable, genuine in its nature. You’ve always appreciated that in an individual.

“It’s done,” you respond. “Only thing left to do is to prepare for our meeting with C-suite executives next Monday. It’s nearly perfect as is, but the presentation could use a bit of refining in terms of organization.”

Hei-ran is silent for a moment longer than usual before her next inquiry, which is undoubtedly the question on both of your minds. “I can't help but wonder what it'll be like to meet him for the first time,” she muses.

You don’t bother asking for clarification on who the “him” is; you’re already well aware that it’s Min Yoongi. The same subject has managed to intrude your own thoughts more and more as the date of meeting him draws closer. It's peculiar honestly, considering you’ve encountered him before.

Granted, it was only a small handful of times the hallway, both heading in opposite directions. Min Yoongi typically greeted you with a hoarse 'Good Morning' those instances, along with a curt nod of his head. You would nod back with a brief 'Morning' yourself. Deep down you feel he'd make a quality friend, though it's only a premonition. It’s not like you actually know much about him beyond those small exchanges.

"I'm not sure what to expect, honestly," you admit. "I imagine it'll be similar to previous professional collaborations—composed, focused, and intense. D-Day is poised to become a global sensation for the next year, so it's going to need our full, undivided attention."

Hei-ran gives a knowing nod. “Good luck __,” she wishes you well as you head towards the elevator doors. Breaks over, back to work.

After another late-night prep session for Monday’s D-Day proposal, you trudge through your apartment door well past 8:30 pm with an empty stomach and a throbbing headache. Good news is that your graphic design team seems to be well on track with their album mockups ready to present.

The same can’t be said for your U.S. promo team however, who required additional guidance on their projects. The social media team was in a similar boat. Somehow several of their members lost track of time and were convinced the proposal was still two weeks away.

Despite the hiccups, you managed to tie up the loose ends, but it meant that none of you got to leave early.

When you finally get to curl up in your fluffy sofa, a loud, exasperated sigh leaves your lips. Your lids flutter shut too as you rest your head against the soft cushion. Silently, you make one last mental rundown of all the tasks you checked off today.

Did you miss anything?

D-Day is the most crucial project you’ve ever taken charge of—you need it to be flawless.

When nothing pressing comes to mind, you grab the tv remote from your dark oak coffee table and aimlessly flip through the channels. You’ll unwind for an hour and then call it a night.

Ten minutes into an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine and the light chime of your phone's notification bell catches your ear.

Tae 💚: Haven’t heard from you all day. Everything alright?

Taehyung, your best friend. You smile fondly at his message as your thumbs hover over the reply button. He's always checking in on you. You and Taehyung have been friends ever since you first moved to Seoul and started working at Hybe. You didn't expect your friendship to become this strong, but both of you are sociable individuals, which led to discovering several unexpected commonalities. One of those is a shared love for jazz, which has been one of your all-time favorite genres for as long as you can remember.

You: yeah, I’m good. Just tired. Been working on D-Day's proposal for months and finally got it fully prepped for.

Tae 💚: Well, that's amazing news! You feel good about it?

You: I don't know. I’m definitely ready for this project but I’m also starting to feel a little burned out. The proposal is only the beginning you know, and it's already taking the wind out of me.

Tae 💚: Sorry to hear that 😞 I'm sure it must be draining, but I also know this is your territory. No one is more fit to head this project than you. Everyone thinks so. How about you take the weekend to rest?

You: Yeah...I'm watching B99 rn

Tae 💚: B99?! Without me?

You can't help but giggle. Somehow over the course of three years you've roped your best friend into becoming obsessed with your mindless sitcoms. You've done more than a handful of binge watching together, until all hours of the night.

You: Wanna come over for an hour?

The company might be nice.

Tae 💚: Be there in 20 🏃

Your door bells rings exactly twenty minutes after you and Taehyng finish exchanging texts. He's so prompt it scares you sometimes.

“Hey.” His deep, baritone voice greets you first, along with a friendly hug. Taehyung slips his snow covered boots off upon entering your apartment and hangs his wool jacket on your coat rack. His limited edition Gucci scarf is next. Taehyung loves the winter as it’s the time he can wear his most luxurious clothes.

“What’s this?” You peak inside a brown paper bag that Taehyung has conveniently set on your kitchen countertop. He flashes you a playful grin and gestures you to open it. Naturally, you're suspicious but it all washes away when a new, unopened bottle of whiskey presents itself. “Oh my god, you didn’t!" You swat his arm in a rush of excitement.

“I had to!" Taehyung opens a kitchen cupboard and grabs a glass from the top shelf. He's been in your apartment enough times that he’s grown comfortable with your place. That and he's also your best friend.

"With all the recent events you've had going on, I think it calls for a celebration." Taehyung expertly pours you a glass of the smooth, rich liquor and offers it to you.

“Thank you, Tae," you say, taking the glass from his hand. "Come sit down. Jake's about to sing I Want It That Way with the police lineup.” Taehyung pours himself a glass of Pinot Noir and follows your lead.

After about forty minutes of sitcoms and booze with your best friend you begin to feel yourself relaxing. Whatever challenges lies ahead, you know you'll be able to handle them one whiskey at a time.

All stream of thought is interrupted when your phone dings off again. It's now half past 9, who on earth is trying to reach you?

Fuck.

You tighten the grip on your phone as soon aa the message appears. Taehyung, previously occupied by the end credit scene, catches the sudden shift in your demeanor and calls your name but he's inaudible to you.

Mom: It’s been almost two weeks since we last heard from you. We know you're busy but your father and I want to know if you’ll be coming home. The holidays are coming up right? Why don't you use some of that time to come see us? There's someone we want you to meet.

"__, who is it?" Taehyung's voice manages to break your intense concentration.

“Just my mom.” You answer briefly, still averting eye contact.

“What’d she say?”

“She wants me to come home for the holidays.” You shut your phone off in an effort to calm yourself.

Unlike Taehyung your relationship with your parents has always been rocky. Expectations are set high from birth and you never see eye to eye. Likely, the only accomplishment that's earned genuine praise from them was when you accepted your initial job proposal with Hybe. A respectable career is only second to health to them after all. Your father was more torn with the news that you’d be moving hundreds of miles away than your mom however, not that you’re surprised.

Of course while having a healthy and respectable career is priority for your parents, there is no mistake that their greatest wish is to see their daughter married. A stable man with ample resources to provide her a secure home and healthy children is preferable.

You love your parents and you'll always be there for them, but you must admit that their traditional outlook is one you can never live up to. They tried setting you up dozens of times before, and tonight's request to have you come home "for the holidays to meet someone” is simply another attempt to marry you off.

Yes, you would like some sort of companionship in your life and you hope if you find it that they’ll approve. But giving your hand in marriage to the first notable suitor isn't your forte. You consider yourself to be an independent woman with a tender heart, and you'd rather be single for the entirety of your life than be forced into another obligation.

Preserving your independence is highly important to you. So no, you draw the line when it comes to relational affairs.

If only you could be firm and repeat all the above to them aloud, rather than within your own head— if only.

“So are you gonna go?"

You don't respond immediately, still weighing out your options. "Not sure," you murmur. "I don't really want to but maybe I should. I haven't gone home to see my parents since last year."

Taehyung recognizes the growing tension in your voice as well as the flushed expression playing on your face. He wishes he could take it all away but instead he moves closer to your side of the sofa and lets you rest your head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry." He's silent for a moment before continuing. "Why don't you tell them you can't go because of work? There must be a number of things you'll need to get ahead of for Yoongi's album."

"True. But it's too easy, they won't buy that. I have to go."

"What if you say I invited you to celebrate with my family this year? We're going to a nice, cozy cabin a few hours north of here for Christmas."

The offer is temping and you know he means it but it's also not enough.

"No," you reject. "They'll think we're dating and ask to meet you."

"I'll do it!" Taehyung's voice lifts into a more playful tone, earning a soft chuckle from you.

"Very cute Taetae, but no. Neither of us are going to say 'that was a good idea' in the end, trust me. I'll have to make this decision on my own."

Taehyung grimaces slightly at your last choice of words. "I really think you should consider telling them you can't due to a full schedule. We don't get that much time off at the company any way. Don't your parents live at least 7-10 hours away? Come on, spend the holidays with me and the guys. Plus, it'll be my birthday soon. I want you there at my party."

When you look at your best friend to gently scold him for not so sneakily using the guilt tripping technique, he's pouting. Like a baby. Not even you can resist him with that face on.

"Fine. I'll think about it."

"Good," Taehyung chirps and snatches the tv remote to flip through episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. "I want you to be around those closest to you, especially around the holidays. You're my badass best friend who deserves more than some stupid forced marriage to a guy with an unhealthy alpha male complex. Should we top the night off with one more episode by the way?"

You nod and Taehyung hits play on the remote. "Thank you," you coo, feeling a tad better.

The weekend is a blur at best and you’re back at the office before you realize. Of course this is no ordinary work day however, given that today signifies the day you officially start work as D-Day’s marketing director. You’ve been perfecting every detail of the proposal like a madman since the beginning, meticulously obessing over every element. Your new team members must have a pretty eye-opening understanding of what it’ll be like having you as a lead for the next year–you pity them to be honest.

Between your fingers clutches a small tube of lip balm, berry flavored with a faint tint to match. You love chapstick for some odd, inexplainable reason and you felt the need to apply a generous amount of it on your lips for good luck.

“No one’s here yet,” Yi-joon, one of the members of your graphic design team, speaks first upon stepping foot into your assigned conference room. Others hum, unsurprised. Being the ones leading the presentation, you’d be startled if anyone actually arrived beforehand.

A grand mahogany table, seating up to 14 individuals, boasts itself to you in the middle of the room with every chair lined in genuine black leather. Traditional seating arrangements have one chair at the head of the table, but today’s meeting has two, both positioned to face the wide presentation screen at the opposite end.

Undoubtably, they’re reserved for Bang PD and Min Yoongi.

A momentary shiver courses down your spine, yet fades quick when one of your team members asks if anyone's seen the remote to the projector. There’s no time for nerves to be acting up, you remind yourself calmly. Only 15 minutes remain until every C-suite executive in Hybe congregates into the room.

With a composed demeanor, you swiftly gather your thoughts and respond, "Try checking inside the podium. It's likely close by, but if not, we can always power it on manually." You then start delegating tasks to the rest of your team, mentally rehearsing key points of the proposal between each instruction.

Time appears to have vanished in the blink of an eye because in a matter of seconds a gentle breeze slips through the conference door, accompanied by the arrival of several Hybe executives. You offer a polite "good morning," which is briefly reciprocated as they take their respective seats around the conference table.

You count twelve at the table in total, including your own team.

"Sajangnim should be here in about–"

Hybe's Chief Finance Officer doesn't get to finish his sentence when an older gentleman in a freshly pressed suit walks through the door, fully immersed in conversation. The person following close behind him is none other than the man of the hour himself–Min Yoongi, fitted in a clean white dress shirt that's unbuttoned at the collar and sleeves rolled to the elbows. His soft, raven hair falls gently in front of his eyes, framing his face a little too well.

Unexpectedly, both your gazes shift from Bang PD and onto one another. His dark, intense eyes pierce through you as they observe you from the opposite side of the room. You're certain he recognizes you from your previous shared encounters, though you don't have the slightest clue what he's thinking. Min Yoongi has been known to be many things, but an open book isn't one of them.

He then walks in your direction until he's directly toe to toe with you for the very first time. Completely against your wishes, you feel all the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. You've never officially met before.

"It's nice to finally meet you __-nim. Those nods we give each other in the hallway hardly count as a proper introduction." He extends a hand to you, offering you a sturdy handshake which you accept.

"Absolutely, it's a pleasure to meet you as well Min PD-nim," you say, smiling warmly. "I'm looking forward to working with you on your new album. I truly appreciate the opportunity."

For a split second, Yoongi allows his professional demeanor drop. "I should be the one thanking you. You'll be the one leading this whole operation right? So I'll be in your care."

You want to respond with gratitude, but you're not given the chance due to an authoritative voice speaking up from behind.

"Min PD-nim," Hybe's Vice President calls out to the man in front of you, requesting his attention.

Yoongi is hesitant to leave you mid-conversation but you assure him that it's alright. "Please, feel free to take a seat," you offer. "The presentations will begin soon."

A small, subtle smile graces Yoongi's lips before he turns around to take his seat beside Bang PD at the head of the table. He engages in small talk with Hybe's Vice President who's conveniently seated across from him. Yet despite their conversation, he's only half focused; his eyes repeatedly wandering back to you. At this point, however, you've already stopped looking at him.

"Good morning, all," you address the room when the time comes to commence the meeting. "We'll be getting started now that everyone's here. I'm sending down samples of the album design our graphics team has created for D-Day. Please pass them along." You hand the stack of copies to Hybe's Chief Technology Officer who smiles courteously.

"On behalf of my team and me, I want to thank you for joining us today to discuss our marketing strategy for Min PD-nim's upcoming D-Day album. Our agenda will be as follows," you guide everyone's attention to the presentation board, which provides a rundown of all the points you plan to cover for the remainder of the meeting.

"Let's begin with introductions. My name is ___ ___, I hold a Bachelor's degree in Electrical and Electronics Engineering from NYU Stern, as well as an MBA in Marketing. Over the past five years, I've worked in the music industry as a marketing manager. Three of those years were spent here at Hybe. The recent promotional campaign for TXT's The Chaos Chapter was lead by my previous team and me, resulting in a positive return on investment. Now, with a new team, I aim to achieve similar success with Min PD-nim's D-Day album."

Once you finish your introduction, you introduce each member of your team. This is soon followed by a brief introduction from each c-suite executive.

The whole room falls silent when you begin diving into the bulk of the proposal; every measurable objective, goal, and market analysis is shared for D-Day. When it comes time to present the brand guide and album design, you invite your graphics team to speak.

"You'll notice that we have two versions of Min PD-nim's albums on the sheet in front of you," Yi-joon refers to the mockups you handed out earlier. A few executives nod quietly as they study the proposed album packaging while Yoongi leans over to Bang PD. He's whispering something but you're far to distant away to hear. His expressions aren't telling either.

Does he like it? Does he not? You don't know.

Nevertheless, you give a subtle smile to Yi-joon as encouragement to continue.

 "We've opted for a sleek, pitch-black design for the first version, and a dusty brown for the second. The first version symbolizes the past, characterized by societal expectations and internal struggles, while the second represents the present and future, conveying a message of liberation. To complement these themes, we've selected a bold and daring font to exude the album's transparency. This design consistency extends to the album's contents; for instance, lyrical cards will reflect the respective color and style of the version they belong to."

Hybe's Chief Marketing Officer appears to be in approval with the entirety of the plan so far, yet it's short lived when a low voice interrupts.

"I think the vision of album's design aligns closely with mine, so I like what I see in front of me." Yoongi pauses and places the mockup on the table. "There's one aspect that I'd like to discuss in hopes of some insight however. I've been mauling over it for a while now."

"I'll do my best to–" Hybe's Chief Marketing Officer opens his mouth to respond yet closes it immediately when he notices Yoongi's gaze sharply shifts to you. It's a signal that it's your insight he specifically requests.

"Please go on," you reply.

"Regarding the name under which the album should be released, should it be 'Agust D' or 'Suga'? I'm personally biased towards Agust D because it holds more weight for me. It's close to my heart and the stories I have to tell as Agust D are heavier than those of Suga, right? The D even stands for Daegu, my hometown where I grew up and where my parents still live. Suga on the other hand is my stage name, which I have some identity in as well."

You don't answer immediately, preferring to carefully process everything he's said. Your team has already proposed to release the album under 'Agust D', yet he makes a valid point that 'Suga' is also a part of him.

"I understand that releasing the album under 'Suga' has its merit. However, I still support the original idea of releasing it under 'Agust D'. As you've mentioned, the name carries a deeper meaning, evoking memories, emotions, trials, and tribulations. I'd also like to emphasize that by releasing D-Day under 'Agust D', you can showcase who the real Agust D is. The collaboration with IU in People Pt. 2 already has you one step in that door."

Like you, Yoongi considers your words cautiously, weighing them in his mind. "Thank you ___-nim," he finally speaks. "Your perspective is reassuring. We'll proceed with releasing the album under 'Agust D'.

Following your short discussion, the graphics team continues presenting their design materials. Minor comments are made by Hybe executives, but Yoongi doesn't comment again until half-way into the social media segment.

"Why do we need to schedule this many Weverse Lives? People might get tired of seeing my face after so many in a row. ARMY will read, 'Min Yoongi started a live' and say to their friends, 'This is the fifth time in a row, is he in love with his own voice or something?'." His joke sparks a light in the room as Bang PD gives a chuckle.

"I don't think that's going to be an issue for you Yoongi," he replies. "Don't you know the strength of your own fanbase?" Bang PD's statement is undeniable. Everyone in the room is well aware of Min Yoongi's international fanbase who willingly stay up all hours of the night just to catch a glimpse of him. In fact, rather than seeing less of him, they hope to receive his live notifications more, as Yoongi isn't as active on Weverse as other idols.

It's clear that compliments like these aren't easy for Yoongi to take though, judging by the flushed look that subtly sweeps over his face. You'd react the same way to be honest.

"If I may Min PD-nim," you speak up, deciding to offer an alternative plan. "Leveraging Weverse Live to help promote D-Day will draw significant international engagement. We know that time differences pose to be a challenge which is why we proposed an increase of live sessions per week. However, we understand that going live this often might be exhausting. Would you consider reducing the frequency to once or twice a week instead?"

"I'm open to once a week but didn't we film the 'Suga: Road to D-Day' documentary for a similar reason? Won't it be too much to add more than two Weverse Lives throughout the entire promotional phase?" Yoongi's challenge is met with an unanimous hum of support from his fellow executives. You'd feel intimidated if you didn't already have a justification mapped out.

"The objective behind releasing 'Suga: Road to D-Day' on Disney+ differs from that of Weverse Lives," you rebuttal confidently. "While the documentary presents a structured behind-the-scenes view of D-Day's development, the Lives focus on building hype among your existing fans who know you well, will spread the word to their peers, and will likely pre-order the album. As you're aware, Lives are more personal and stripped down, allowing your fanbase to feel closer to you."

Thinking of no further objectives, Yoongi, still somewhat unsure, accepts your suggestion. "Once a week will be fine then. While we're still on the topic, do we know when 'Suga: Road to D-Day' is set to release on Disney+?"

"Our digital marketing and promo team will be reviewing the specifics of that soon," you inform. "Right now we have the documentary releasing April 23 of next year. The poster for the film will release a week and a half earlier on the 12th."

Rather than furthering the discussion, Yoongi sends an understanding nod your way which allows the social media team to resume their portion of the proposal. Recording more Weverse Lives than usual remains a pain point for him, but he's willing to move forward if it means connecting with his fanbase.

Alast, after what seems like three hours of social media; followed by financing & budget talk, the last team to present their material takes lead of the meeting.

"We'd like to provide a timeline for D-Day's promo schedule as a way to wrap up today's proposal," So-hyun from your digital marketing and promos team explains. "Promotions will begin April 10, 2023 and will run until April 25th. During this time the album's track list, concept photos, MV Teaser, and official MV will drop. As far as concert schedule, we're proposing April 26-June 24. These dates include U.S, Asia, and Korea Tours."

"We might need to rethink concert dates but for now I'm on onboard." Yoongi remains brief in his interjection, allowing So-hyun to continue.

"As far as other marketing channels, we plan to implement both print and digital methods including billboards, banners, paid search ads, and YouTube. We'd also like to reach out to a variety of magazines like Rolling Stones Magazine for interviews. If we want to extend our global reach even further, we can book a time slot on the Jimmy Fallon Show. Bare in mind that if we go this route, we'll need to decide fairly quick, as slots are in high demand."

You notice Bang PD whispering amongst Yoongi and his Chief Finance Officer when Jimmy Fallon is mentioned. Yoongi seems the least interested. Perhaps he isn't fond of being front and center of talk shows, you guess.

"When will we need a decision for the Jimmy Fallon Show?" Bang PD inquires for the group.

"No later than three weeks from now," So-hyun answers. "It's a tight deadline but it can been done if we get the official go."

Bang PD directs his attention to Yoongi who's chosen to be silent in this conversation. "What do you think, Yoongi? It's your call."

"Maybe," he says, "give me a day or two to think on it."

Another ten minutes of productive overview with your promos team pass and soon, you're standing up to adjourn the meeting. You have to admit that out of all the proposals you've given in your career, this goes right to the top.

Your team was phenomenal today, and despite the the fact that several Hybe executives are biting at the bit to finally go on their lunch break, you feel confident that everyone is leaving on the same page.

"Min PD-nim."

You're ears inevitably pick up the conversation in front of you as you make your way out of the conference room. Yoongi and his Chief Financial Officer are running through some quick numbers only a few steps steps ahead, but with everyone simultaneously rushing in the same direction, neither must have realized you were within earshot.

"There's no doubt that she's good at what she does," Hybe's Chief Financial Officer continues. "Still, it's hard to believe that she's only 27 or 28. A person should take better care of themselves don't you agree? Like our Eunchae for example."

If there was a way to erase what you just heard, you'd do so, because in an instant, all previous successes you felt from today's proposal shatters to the ground. You're no stranger to receiving these sorts of comments about your appearance, yet it leaves your confidence fleeting, along with any amount of resilience you've built.

Blinking back the tears that threaten to spill, you exit the conference room the first chance you get. You have no desire to stick around for Yoongi's reply.

Not long after you leave does you phone ring off.

Tae 💚: Hey! How's the meeting going? Still available to get lunch this afternoon? I'm heading to the cafeteria as I type this.

You: It went okay. But I don't think I'll be coming to lunch, just a lot to do. I'm also not that hungry.

You second-guess how convincing your message is, knowing that it's your best friend on the other line. Regardless, it's the only words you can come up with right now. You really do have a lot of work ahead of you though, at least that part is true.

Tae 💚: Are you sure? I was looking forward on hearing how the meeting went! Wasn't there something you had to give me too?

The meaning of the last line suddenly dawns on you as you make your way down the long hallway. How could you forget? You made Taehyung one of his favorite foods to surprise him for lunch; Japchae, a sweet and savory dish of stir-fried glass noodles and vegetables.

You: Right, sorry it slipped from my mind for a second. I'll meet you in the cafeteria to give it to you.

"Why won't you stay and eat with me?" Taehyung devours the homemade Japchae you made for him with delight, a pair of chopsticks clamped in his hand.

"I don't have much of an appetite, Tae."

You've already told him this twice already, clarifying that you'd be heading back to your office once you deliver his food. Evidently, he's not letting you slip away easily.

"Then take a break with me instead, even if it's only for ten minutes." You watch as your best friend swiftly pulls out the chair next to him from under the table, gesturing you to sit. "Tell me what's got you down," he says. "Did Yoongi say something to you? He can be a bit too outspoken with his opinions sometimes."

Feeling defeated, you slide into the chair. "No, the meeting was fine. I'm just overthinking something that happened."

You then proceed to explain what you overheard Hybe's Chief Finance Officer say about you from earlier, that you didn't look healthy enough for your age and using Eunchae as an example. The scowl that appears on Taehyung's face as you retell the incident is unmistakable–he's clearly pissed.

"First of all," Taehyung starts once you finish, jaw clenched. "Eunchae is 17 and is a part of a Korean girl group. She has an entire team dedicated to making sure her appearance is flawless. It's the idol life; trust me, I'm well acquainted with it, so it's not a fair comparison. Secondly, Hybe's CFO is an asshole who I'd replace in a day. I don't want you letting him make you feel insignificant just because you don't conform to his narrow idea of how a woman should look."

You appreciate Taehyung's efforts to cheer you up, though you remain unaffected. Besides, he still isn't aware of Yoongi's involvement since you purposely left that detail out due to their close friendship.

"Yeah, I don't know. We don't have to talk about it anymore." You decide to dismiss the topic entirely and reach for your phone, along with a pair of earbuds bundled in your pocket. "Wanna listen to something?"

Music has always bonded you and Taehyung's friendship, as you've frequently found yourselves fully immersed in timeless songs from King of Leon and Led Zeppelin together. Taehyung nearly accepts the offer to listen with you once again, but then he freezes all movement. An eager grin follows close after.

"Hyung!" His voice echos though the room, earning the attention of Min Yoongi who's just entered the cafeteria. This time, you feel nothing but discomfort when the man looks your way.

"I have some material I need to review from my promo team. I'll text you later, okay?" You leave your best friend no time to reply as you quickly rise from your chair, stick your phone in your pant pocket, and head for the nearest exit. Yoongi attempts to make eye contact with you on your way out, but you avoid it completely.

When he approaches Taehyung, he acknowledges your semi-odd behavior. "I didn't mean to make her leave," he states, joining the younger at the table.

Taehyung offers a light shrug in response. "Don't worry, you didn't. She had other matters to get to. Something with her team members I think."

Yoongi grabs a fresh clementine from a nearby fruit bowl and beings peeling it little by little. "You two must be pretty close if you're having your lunches together."

It's not hard for Taehyung to read between the lines of what his member is insinuating.

"We've been friends for a while," he clarifies. "Just friends, nothing else."

a/n: Hope you enjoyed! Lmk what you think 🥰

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