#⋆. 𐙚 ˚grace speaks

[dear-starshine]

girl are you delusional or are you liz buxbaum?

[aegonsvhagar]

Doing It All For Love

𐙚 Reeling after her meeting with Rhaenyra in the sept, she takes advantage of the one thing that reminds her most of her true love; you. Even if you are Aegon’s wife, Rhaenyra’s only daughter and technically, her step-granddaughter.

𐙚 Alicent x Rhaenyra's Daughter!Reader (tw: step-incest, age gap; alicent is reader's step-grandmother and 38/reader is 20, manipulation, slight dub-con)

AN: i am still writing lamb to slaughter i am just rlly turned on by alicent being manipulative and being in power <3 reader is of age, no i am not doing the math

Alicent can't breathe. The power, her very control on matters is slipping. Aegon is lost, Aemond a violent monster. Helaena lost to her grief. Matters possibly be any worse. Of course they could. They always can.

She had told Rhaenyra to her face that war was due, that it was inevitable. Alicent knew the succession had not been changed, that Viserys did not change his mind.

But was Alicent to blame for wanting power of her own? To have developed a taste for it since it was first forced down her throat? Was it so bad of her? Her father had drilled in her so hard Aegon’s claim that had to be what she truly wanted. Why else would she forcibly usurp the only person that has ever loved her.

But it was far too late. All of it set in place. The board was set. Time to play the game before them. But she couldn't deny her feelings. Noy truly. She was angry. Angry at her father, angry at her king, at Aegon.

“Your grace?” you call softly.

Alicent half smiles, but it isn't sincere. She isn't the queen anymore, you are. She foolishly thought if she rushed and married you to a newly crowned Aegon that Rhaenyra would bend. She didn't know Daemon would simply declare war for his better half as you were now considered a 'hostage’ in the capital.

“You are the queen. You can call me Alicent, or mother…” Alicent walks towards you, and allows her hand to reach your face. “...or grandmother.”

“You're so young to be a grandmother.” you assure her.

“You think I look young?” Alicent feeds off your validation, so eager to please. You don't know if it's sincere or a survival tactic but she doesn't care, it turns her on all the same. “You’re such a dove, aren't you? Flaunting about the keep as you please. So insistent on making me and your betters happy.”

“I just want to please you all so you don't take my head.” you admit rashly.

“Take your head?” she cocks hers. “Why would we?”

“Because my mother is…my mother is a traitor and so is my father. I have traitor’s blood.” you say softly.

“You have the blood of the dragon and you share Aegon’s blood. Not all is treacherous.” Alicent tries to calm you, even though the words affirm what you fear people say about you is true. You are the blood of a whore, a traitor. And the worst is you are no bastard, but the daughter of an even worse fate, Daemon Targaryen.

“I wish to be a good queen to you, to Aegon and them.” Alicent reaches to hold your hand and pulls you closer. You gaze up at her.

“You are a good queen. Probably more loved than I.” Alicent’s voice is calming, but not to be sweet or kind or caring. No. She wants you in a false state of comfort.

The more Alicent looks at you, studies your face. The more you look like Rhaenyra. She could see why the court confused you two at times. You didn't have a shred of Daemon in your face, she thanks the gods for that. But you have her former friend’s face. The friend she so desperately clung to as a child. The one who turned her back on her. And now her daughter was clinging to her.

Alicent leans in and kisses you, it’s gentle and she can physically feel you react to it.

You immediately pull back, “Your grace-”

“I am not the queen, you stupid girl.” she grabs your hands firmer, her nails digging into you. “You took that position, usurped it from me.”

“As you have usurped my mother.” you speak back, matching her cold tone. As soon as the words leave you, you regret it.

“I am so sorry, have I hurt you?” she asks as she brings your hands to her face to inspect. Her tone changes to soft again, as she watches blood pool around the moons her nails left in your skin.

“I want to go home!” you admit, tears streaming your face. “I want my mother.”

“I wanted your mother too once. She was my…friend. But she has turned her back on me, on you.” Alicent kisses your hands gently.

“You lie.”

“Do I sweetling? Where is your mother? If I had heard my daughter had married my enemy I’d swarm the palace with my dragon and burn it to ash. But she has not yet even made a move and it has been weeks.” she shakes her head at you, almost mocking you for being so naive.

Alicent holds your head, and leans in to kiss you again, this time more roughly. You don't react, you let it happen. Alicent controls it, every movement she has the power and orchestrates it. And you're so stupid, naive and powerless, you let her.

“What would Aegon say?” you break away, mostly to catch your breath.

“He's with painted whores as we speak.” She licks her lips. You taste like fruit, something she knew you were fond of. She watches your face fall. “Does that upset you?”

“No.” you shake your head. “I do not think so. I don't love him.”

“I know.” Alicent goes to kiss you again, and this time you kiss back.

Your hands go to her waist and you whimper into her mouth. Her hands begin peeling you of your gown, a soft white and gold, and you work to untie the strings on the back of hers.

It’s all happening so fast you can't control anything, she's in charge. You can't help it, you miss your mother. Your gown is slipped off onto the floor and Alicent reaches to pull you closer, gently turns you and then throws you lightly on her bed.

“Have you two lied together?” she asks, finishing stripping her gown down, the dark green material pooling at her feet.

You can't help but stare at her body, despite four pregnancies her body still was slender, and a soft warm color painted her skin. You watched Alicent remove her seven pointed star necklace, kiss it and set it down.

“Have you ever been with a woman?” she asks, beginning to sit beside you on the bed.

You shake your head and watch her take pieces of your silver hair in her hands. God you looked so much like Rhaenyra, she needed to have you.

“Can you kiss me again?” you ask, snapping her out of her trance.

She smiles, mostly because she knows she has you, and she does. She kisses you again, and places herself above you.

You wonder what Rhaenyra would say, what she would think. They had been childhood friends, and now you were kissing her old friend and newest enemy, about to sleep with her. It was all entrancing. Would Daemon have your head when they eventually stormed Kings Landing?

Alicent dips her fingers in her mouth, coating them with spit before settling inside your cunt. You groan, and arch your back at her touch. Pure pleasure shoots through you as she continues to pump her digits in and out of you. She watches you with hungry eyes, picturing your mother in your spot.

You're a gentle little girl, always so keen on pleasing others, Alicent smiled slightly at you finally being pleased. She knew Aegon did not take your pleasure into account, her nasty excuse of a son could not please anyone. Not even the maids he took his pleasure from.

“Feel good sweet dove?” Alicent coos, voice full of sex.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” you cry out, pressure building as you become closer to orgasm. “Please don't stop.”

“I won't, I won't.” she says softly, mostly to herself.

You looked good like this, sweat stuck to your forehead, writhing in pleasure, pleasure given by her. Alicent pulls her fingers out, which causes you to omit soft pleading for her to go back to what she was doing.

She settles between your legs, and gives small kisses on your thighs.

“Don't tease me, please your grace.” you beg.

“I’ll do what I want, won't I?” Alicent doesn't wait for your answer until she's latching her mouth on your now wet cunt, sucking and licking away, the sounds of your moans growing louder and filling the chamber.

She didn't care if maids heard, or passed by and saw. All she cared about was that you were close to cumming on her tongue. She traced your cunt up and down with the wet muscle, ensuring your clit got the most attention.

Your orgasm hits hard, causing you to wrap your legs around her head, “Gods gods gods gods!”

As you ride your wave of pleasure, Alicent licks up the mess and gives your cunt one last kiss before pulling up and looking at you. Her mouth was wet, no soaked with your cum. You blush at the sight.

“Sweet girl.” Alicent wipes her mouth on the duvet, and lays beside you.

“Do you want me to…please you, your grace?” you ask.

She shakes her head, “Dowager queen.”

As you cuddle into her side, still breathing heavily, the one thing that crosses Alicent’s mind is your mother.

[margecouture]

april wellness guide 🐇

having this wellness guide for the month of april is a great way to refresh, reflect and nurture your wellbeing as spring blooms around you. here’s a helpful guide for this rainy yet beautiful month that falls in the middle of this lovely season:

⋆·˚ ༘ *۶ৎ what to look forward to in april:

cherry blossoms

walks on warm days

new morning habits

earth day & easter

warmer days

gardening

moving forward with grace

iced drinks

⋆ 𐙚 ̊.₊˚⊹ april bucket list:

give out lots of love

buy yourself some flowers

learn a new recipe

eat lunch outside in the sun

go for a walk in the rain

try a new herbal tea

decorate easter eggs

make homemade lemonade

✿˖˚ ༘₊⁺ what habits and hobbies to pick up in april:

start juicing with fresh fruits and vegetables

get morning sunshine + go outdoors daily

weekly deep cleans

20 minute morning yoga sessions

morning journaling or creative writing

read 2-3 chapters of a book daily

get 7-8 hours of sleep every night

write a daily gratitude list

take vitamins every morning + magnesium at night

try no caffeine

set monthly goals for the summer

₊˚ʚ ₊˚✧ ﾟ. april affirmations:

"i am taking care of myself everyday in the month of april."

"i am healing and feeling better as spring flows in."

"there are no limits placed on me and my abilities."

"i am creating the life that i want to see in april."

"i am a gift to everyone i come in contact with."

"i choose peace and calmness in all situations i face."

"i am speaking with grace and elegance."

april is the perfect month to reinvent yourself and rebrand into your best self just in time for summer. by following this guide, you have the steps to becoming the person of your dreams! happy april.🌈☁️🌷🐇

────୨ৎ────

[glowettee]

-`♡´- how to have the mindset of cher horowitz ✧˖

════════════════════════════════════════════ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　 . ✦ . ︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧

cher horowitz isn’t just a character, she’s a lifestyle. effortlessly charming, stylishly intelligent, and always in control of her world. she moves through life with confidence, kindness (unless you cross her), and a touch of calculated oblivion. the secret? her mindset.

if you want to embody that breezy, effortlessly put-together energy, it’s not just about looking the part. it’s about thinking like cher. because let’s be real, a true it-girl never second-guesses herself.

cher has been an icon ever since clueless came, she has always had an optimistic outlook of life. she a rich girl but she's generous, and kind, and she knows when and how to stand up for herself. in my personal journey, i have been working on different traits i want to adapt and cher horowitz has so many that i added to my list. this post is how you embody the mindset of cher, and how you can adapt it to your personality and mentality <33 - mindy ✦

💡 how to adapt cher horowitz energy into your mindset 𐙚˙⋆ :

❥ be delusionally confident. cher never asks if she’s the best, she just knows she is. move through life like you deserve the best, because you do. repeat after me: i am the moment.

❥ use intelligence to your advantage. sure, she says “i totally paused” while failing her driving test, but cher is smart. she knows how to use her charm, persuasion, and quick thinking to get what she wants (case in point: her debate speech on why people should “totally stockpile” their extra outfits). so, never play dumb. strategically play smart.

❥ never let them see you sweat. cher faces challenges with an effortless, slightly confused grace. failed test? she negotiates extra credit. unexpected problem? she improvises. the key? never panic. act like you always have a backup plan, even if you don’t.

❥ romanticize your daily routine. cher wakes up to a computer-generated outfit planner, applies lip gloss while serving life advice, and makes even gym class look like a fashion show. take notes. elevate your morning routine. sip matcha from a pretty cup. study in an aesthetic setting. make every little habit feel high-end.

❥ charm is your superpower. being persuasive isn’t about manipulation. it’s about knowing how to talk to people. smile, compliment, and read the room. if cher can talk her way into better grades and out of parking tickets, you can talk your way into anything.

❥ know your worth & don’t settle. cher refuses to entertain anything below her standards. even if it’s fashion, friendships, or love interests. adopt this mindset. stop chasing people who don’t put in effort. stop accepting things that aren’t exactly what you want. you are the prize.

❥ have a signature aesthetic. cher’s vibe? preppy coquette meets california princess. your vibe? whatever makes you feel like her. curate your wardrobe, your playlist, your notes app, your everything. consistency is what makes an aesthetic powerful.

❥ turn every moment into a main character scene. cher doesn’t walk, she glides through life with effortless confidence. she twirls her pen in class, makes a simple “ugh, as if” iconic, and somehow always has a perfect comeback. embody this energy. make your life feel cinematic.

𐙚˙⋆ mindy’s personal tips to channel cher energy 💋

✦ create a go-to power outfit. cher has iconic looks on standby, so should you. plan an outfit that instantly makes you feel confident & put together. bonus points if it’s preppy chic.

✦ practice the “cher voice.” slow down your speech, add a touch of playfulness, and speak with certainty. even if you’re saying something ridiculous, say it like it’s groundbreaking.

✦ walk with an effortless, floaty confidence. stand tall, relax your shoulders, and glide, not rush. confidence is in the pace.

✦ set high standards--then raise them. cher never settles, and neither should you. it doesn't matter if it’s skincare, study goals, or the people in your life, only accept the best.

✦ always have a backup plan. one of cher’s best qualities? adaptability. even if it’s an outfit disaster or a last-minute change of plans, never be caught off guard. keep a “just in case” solution for everything.

cher horowitz isn’t just a character. she’s an energy. she’s confident, effortlessly charming, and always in control of her world. if you start thinking like cher, you’ll start living like cher. and trust me, that’s a lifestyle worth having.

════════════════════════════════════════════ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　 . ✦ . ︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧

𐙚˙⋆𝓹𝓵𝓪𝔂𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽𐙚˙⋆:

[bueckersbitch]

Grace and Grit - paige bueckers x oc

chapter two: how you get the girl

𐙚 characters: hopkins!paige x oc

𐙚 warnings: small mention of vaping

𐙚 authors note: letting this one speak for itself! this is all fiction!! enjoy ;)

Warm air flows through the cracked windows, Blaire stares at the girl beside her. Her golden hair was down, pushed all to one side, the bright blonde bringing out her sharp features, jaw prominent as her eyes were locked on the road, occasionally glancing over at Blaire, softly singing to the song that flooded the space between the two in the car. Angel-like glow radiating off of her as they passed the yellow streetlights. Blaire finds a way to pull her gaze away, now focused on her hand that rested in her lap, bright sapphire surrounded by gold, resting around her middle finger, a gift, her father giving it to her from Madagascar, a parting gift before he left for work in Australia. Other hand intertwined with Paige, Paige’s soft, warm hands grounding them in the moment, the warmth a direct reflection of the type of person Paige was, endearing, kind, big hearted, everything.

She felt her own hair blow into her lip gloss, Nars, Turkish Delight, over top her lightly lined lips, quickly moving her left hand to tuck it behind her ear. A familiar song now playing, How You Get The Girl, by Taylor Swift. Shocked, she turns to Paige, a smug grin across her face, “Paige…” She starts, although she’s quickly cut off “Don’t, I want you to feel comfortable, I know your obsession with her” Blaire hums, gently singing the lyrics, rubbing her lips together in an attempt to evenly coat the remaining lip gloss on her lips. She takes in her surroundings, the dark car having few decorations in it, a basketball car freshener that hung around the rearview mirror, and a photo of Paige, her Dad, and little brother, Drew, in the space in front of the steering wheel, two things that truly screamed Paige. Her love for her family, and basketball.

Paige focuses on living in the moment, maybe that's the reason why she is where she is today, putting her game and family first, so of course, she can’t help but take in the moment that is shared right now, in her car. She focuses on the road, deer trailing to the left, two, prancing around each other beneath the streetlight, spotting the incoming car, they leap away into the forest. Paige pretends to have a rough exterior, boasting in her competition's faces, after all, it’s why the people loved her so much, why she had highlights of her clipped together. She was fierce, never one to back down from a challenge. In reality, though, she was just a teenage girl living her dreams, decision day was right around the corner with school starting up soon, senior year. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind she would attend Uconn, past rosters stacked with greatness all around, thoughts about her future took her out of the moment, and so she slowly removes her hand from the steering wheel, turning up the music, attempting to drown out her thoughts while relishing in the look in Blaire’s eyes, embarrassment? Maybe. But Paige wished Blaire wasn’t afraid of showing who she really was. Paige was as observant as she was extroverted, noticing the front Blaire puts on, the fact she only really had four friends, her childhood best friend, and a couple of classmates from school. “When do you have to be home?!” Paige blurts over at Blaire, nearly shouting over the music. “I mean, I don’t have a curfew!” Blaire says, Paige winks before saying, “Perfect”

The twenty minute drive comes to an end, car pulling into the parking lot. Paige opens the car door for Blaire, her hopping out, the two follow the downtown street, talking about senior year, “Soooo… Senior year…” Paige nudges, smiling, Blaire responds, “Yeah, kind of crazy isn’t it? I feel like just yesterday I was clad in my pink tutu posing for my level two dance photos” Paige nods, “I feel ya, time moves so fast, hard to believe we’re going to leave the life we know behind next year” Blaire turns her head, thoughts swarming her head, the life she knew was uninteresting, to say the least, she didn’t really have a reason to stay, growing up in California, her dad insisted on moving to the quiet state of Minnesota, sure, her dance studio moved from California to Minnesota, something about the founder wanting to be close to her mom, Blaire always held a little bit of resentment towards her dad for that. Packing up everything, leaving Blaire’s childhood behind, dragging her with him, and for what? For him to be on work trips all the time? Leaving Blaire in a hauntingly quiet house? Her mom and dad split shortly before her and her dad made the big move. But who was she to trauma dump? Especially not on a first date, so she's restricted to replying with a quiet murmur of, “Yeah” Paige’s side eye doesn’t go unnoticed, Blaire curses herself in her mind, the feeling of messing up taking over, unfamiliarity reminding her of when she first moved here, caging herself in her room, no urgency to get to know those around her.

Pink lights illuminate the ice cream shop, sweet scoops in cursive on the window, a hole in the wall kind of place, reserved for locals. Paige holds the door open, ever the gentlewoman. Stepping inside, Blaire feels the cool air rush against her face, a direct opposite to the humidity of the summer air outside, Save Your Tears playing through the seventies style stereo, the shop overall emitting a seventies style, checkered floors, pink stools on the other side, fun teal booths lining the wall, pictures of the family that founded the shop snug in a corner, a time capsule, almost. Walking up to the register, Paige orders first, “One small vanilla cone please, and for this pretty lady…” Blaire smiles, “One small raspberry chip cone please” Paige pulls her card out of the back of her phone case, purple, handing it to the worker, a tired girl, probably in one of Blaire’s classes, but she wasn’t one to want to get to know people in her classes, she was there for one reason only, to learn. Paige hands Blaire her ice cream, and a few napkins, before walking back to her car.

Now seated, her knees pulled to her chest, she turns to face the blonde, “So tell me about yourself, I know that there’s more beneath that rough exterior you show during your games” Paige finishes her bite of ice cream, the cold treat regulating her body temperature on the warm summer night, “Well, what do you want to know?” Paige counters, Blaire doesn’t know. What do you even ask on first dates? Paige lifts Blaire’s chin, “Well I’ll help, I love music, I feel like it puts my emotions into words, comforts me before a game, during school, you get it” Blaire laughs “I hope I’d get it, I’ve danced my whole life” Two of them laughing, conversation flowing easily after that, personalities dancing around each other beautifully. Ice cream is long forgotten by now, finished, napkins set in the cupholders, the sunroof pulled back, their seats are reclined now, stars shining in the night sky, Paige asking Blaire everything about dance, the training, what the greenroom looks like, quick changes, auditions, everything you could think of, Blaire was pleasantly surprised, eager to tell Paige everything she knew, excited to tell her about the harsh reality that went on behind the scenes of all the grace that was shown on stage. Blaire asks about basketball, conditioning, exercising and working muscles to avoid strain, reading plays on the whiteboard, the rush Paige feels after making a three, this was who they were, so alike, yet so different, both sports being on opposing sides. Conversation fizzles out, Blaire watching the mint smoke from her vape dissolve into the expansive car space, providing her some clarity to loosen up, Paige occasionally tugging it from her palm, doing the same. Blaire found peace, here, simply parked in an empty parking lot, the clock read, 2:00 a.m. Time slipped away easily when she was with Paige, something she hasn’t encountered since her time in California.

They eventually make their way back to Blaire’s dance studio, her car waiting for her, reserved in her senior parking spot. Blaire moves to open the car door, Paige grabbing her hand before she can do so, “Wait!” Blaire whips her head around, face to face with a flustered Paige, soft pink covering her cheeks. Paige softly takes both of Blaire’s hands in her own, before kissing them, soft lips coming into contact with her knuckles, “I had fun tonight, call me tomorrow?” Paige hopes, Blaire pretends to think for a second, an amused, “We’ll see” coming out of her mouth, before she slips away into the night.

[muniimyg]

𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jungkook (29)⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

series m.list // taglist

note: old taglist + taglist in reblog

//

“surpise!” 

the burst of familiar voices around you fills the space as jungkook gently pulls his hands away from your eyes.

the world comes into focus, and you’re met with a room full of smiling faces, balloons, and twinkling lights decorating the penthouse. 

your heart races as you take it all in—your parents and jungkook’s on the side with zion and zia in their arms, the guys with their playful grins, and even nam joon, who stands with a friendly nod.

“what’s all this?” you gasp, your voice a mix of disbelief and delight.

jungkook steps beside you, his eyes shining with excitement. 

“happy birthday, honey!” he grabs your hands, squeezing them as he beams down at you. “i wanted to do something special. we’ve got food, games, and your favorite cake… well, zion’s.” 

you can’t help but laugh, feeling overwhelmed by the love in the room. 

“this… this is—wow—thank you, honey. i love it. i love you,” you say, cupping his face with your hands. you tiptoe and kiss him softly. as you pull away, you smile. “honey, i can’t believe you did all this! i thought we were just having a quiet dinner.”

“quiet is overrated,” he teases, guiding you further into the room. “besides, you deserve to be celebrated. you know what this date means to us… to me.”

you can’t help but look at him with a soft smile.

it’s the way he always knows just what to say to make you feel seen and cherished. his words and actions fill you with warmth. it’s moments like these where you’re reminded that you truly chose the right person to love. 

jungkook’s sincerity is so raw and so real. 

this day, this celebration—it’s not just about the party or the cake, but about the life you’ve built together. 

it’s a celebration of the family you’ve become. 

together. 

as he catches your gaze, the quiet tenderness in his eyes speaks volumes, and in that moment, everything else fades. 

“don’t—” he starts, “we can cry about this later together. right now, enjoy the party.”

you muster a smile and nod at him. 

as you take a few steps forward, the sound of zia’s laughter catches your ear. you turn to see her in your mother’s arms, giggling with delight at the colorful decorations. you greet your parents warmly, receiving a kiss on your cheek from both of them.

“zion!” you call out, spotting your little boy running toward you, his face lighting up with joy. “you look so cute, my love! look at your little bow tie—”

zion rushes to you, wrapping his tiny arms around your legs. 

“happy birthday, mommy! am i handsome like daddy?” he blushes, looking up at you with innocent pride.

you look at jungkook, eyes wide and filled with admiration. then, you look back at zion with the same expression. kneeling down, you fix zion’s bow tie before attacking him with kisses. 

“yes, my love,” you tell zion. “so handsome. just like daddy.”

jungkook stands behind you, watching the scene with a fond smile.

“handsome like his daddy? maybe our father-son relationship has hope after all.” 

you hit his stomach with the back of your hand as you get up. he chuckles and ruffles zion’s hair, urging him to go to his grandpa. 

as you straighten up, you take a moment to gaze around the room, your heart swelling with gratitude. 

the penthouse is filled with the soft scent of flowers. their vibrant colors scattered across the space—roses, peonies, and hydrangeas in sleek vases add life to every corner. not to mention the birthday decorations are thoughtfully placed: silver streamers drape across the ceiling, and a "happy birthday" banner hangs delicately over the living room. a champagne tower sits elegantly on one side, glistening glasses stacked high, ready to be poured.

a few catering staff move quietly through the space, offering appetizers on silver trays, their soft footsteps blending into the background. the open kitchen reveals the omakase chef, expertly preparing food with graceful precision. jimin, taehyung, and hobi are sitting patiently on the other side of the kitchen island for the chef to get started. yoongi and his girlfriend are on the sidelines, watching and whispering in each others ear. meanwhile, jin and nam joon are talking to one another. 

everything is perfect. 

the warm, inviting ambiance makes the penthouse feel like the perfect mix of cozy luxury—everything perfectly curated yet relaxed, just like the man behind it all.

“honey, you’ve outdone yourself,” you say to jungkook, feeling giddy with appreciation. “the place is stunning. this is all so amazing. did you hire a party planner?”

he shakes his head and winces at you. 

“have you no faith in your visual director in advertisement husband?” jungkook scolds you. “god, it’s like i have to teach you a lesson or something—oh. hey, nam joon.”

just then, nam joon approaches, a slight smile on his face. 

“hey,” he acknowledges jungkook.

“thanks for coming,” jungkook offers him a lazy smile. 

“wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“you could though,” jungkook tightens his lips. “party would’ve been fine with or without you.” 

you hiss at him. 

nam joon laughs, taking jungkook’s tone lightly. soon, jungkook breaks character and laughs along. he then kisses your cheek and excuses himself so you and nam joon could talk. as jungkook joins the crowd, you open your arms and give nam joon a friendly hug. 

“thanks for coming! i know the firm can get busy this time of year—”

“would be much more manageable if you signed for partner,” he remarks casually, causing your expression to shift slightly. 

“timing was off,” you breathe. “you know that.”

“i know it,” he nods. “are you thinking of starting your own firm?” 

you shake your head, followed by a small smile. “no... jungkook has been talking about starting his own company and i feel like that will be a better focus for us... don't get me wrong; i love being a lawyer... but things got intense and mentally so draining so fast. it took a lot from me… from my family. truth be told, i miss it… all of it. court, the cases, the people—but i’m also a little afraid. i don’t want to drown in my work life like that again. so… i guess i’m mustering up the courage… and zia is almost one! i can’t… not be here for these kinds of things.” 

nam joon understands you.

he looks at you softly, respecting everything you said. out of everyone, he probably knows you the best when it comes to your career. you have worked extremely hard to be where you are now… he doesn’t want to see it go to waste. 

which is why he makes a pitch. 

“would you ever be interested in teaching law?” 

you blink. 

“i have connections to most of the law schools around here… i heard there were a few openings too. i can refer you. if you hate it or if you ever decide you’re ready to come back… come back and accept the partner position. our firm will wait for you… i will wait for you. in return, don’t stop doing what you love but don’t let it kill you either. you have fought enough and earned your place, ___. you're a good lawyer too. it wouldn't be right for me to stand here and you go.”

“oh my god. y-yes. nam joon—”

“alright. consider this a birthday gift.” he smiles, before patting you on the back. then, he takes out his phone and begins to type. “i’ll email a few of my connections right now just so it’s like a real present. happy birthday, ___.”

before you can even thank him, he turns and gets on call with someone.

you sigh.

but you smile.

you're thankful.

with the party in full swing, you weave through the crowd, hugging friends and family, sharing laughter and stories. you take everything in, feeling the warmth of their love. this is where you belong. this is where you are loved.

as the room fills with a soft hum of conversation and laughter, jungkook's arms slip around you, holding you close as you both sway together, grounding you in the comfort of his presence.

"ready to cut the cake?" he murmurs, his voice gentle, but that familiar spark in his eyes still present.

you nod eagerly, feeling a rush of joy from the gathering, from the laughter of your closest friends and family. jungkook then raises his voice to call everyone over. soon, the room fills with smiling faces, and zion giggles as he darts toward you, small arms outstretched. you bend down to scoop him up, his little hands curling around your neck as he snuggles close.

jungkook joins you at your side, holding zia in his embrace, her tiny hands reaching for you as she giggles.

just as everyone is about to sing happy birthday, jungkook clears his throat, drawing everyone's attention.

“before we sing and cut the cake,” he begins, his eyes never leaving yours, “i just wanted to say a few words.”

a hush falls over the crowd, and jungkook smiles, taking a deep breath, his gaze filled with something that makes your heart race.

“thank you all for coming. i know keeping this a secret from ___ wasn’t easy since she’s nosy—”

“hey!” you frown, playfully smacking his arm.

“but we love her,” jungkook pauses, glancing at you with a teasing smile.

the crowd laughs with you.

“... and with that being said, honey, i’m so glad i have the privilege of being your husband. from the life we’ve built together, our children, our home—to our friends and families—you have made every aspect of my life happier, brighter, and fuller. even in our most difficult moments, i have never doubted that you are the one for me. i have chosen you every day, and will spend the rest of my life doing so… and you know? i used to be afraid of time. not having enough of it to spend with you and our children… but not so much anymore. every day, you hold my hand, make me laugh, and kiss me—giving meaning to our forever. so, here… right now, i want to say this to you: our time is forever. ___, if it takes bending every rule, making new ones, or breaking every piece of time itself—for me to be the one you love in every lifetime—then i’d do it.”

his voice is strong, clear, yet filled with a gentleness that brings a lump to your throat. “i have seen the way you love and i have felt it every day in every possible way. i feel it in our success and in our losses. god, am i ever so blessed to feel it. ___, i love you, always. you are my divine. my everlasting love. my heart in every lifetime... and i—truly, madly, deeply—i am yours forever.”

the world falls away, leaving only jungkook’s words hanging in the air.

they’re rich with love and promise. you feel zion’s small weight in your arms, his head resting against your shoulder, a gentle reminder of everything you and jungkook have created together.

your eyes blur as the room and faces around you seem to melt into a soft haze. there’s only jungkook’s gaze—kind, loving, forever.

a shaky breath escapes your lips as you look at him, your heart swelling with a love so deep it feels almost impossible to contain.

zion shifts in your arms, sensing the emotion in the room. his little fingers reach up to pat your cheek, grounding you. you press a kiss to the top of his head, gathering yourself, your voice catching as you try to find the words to answer jungkook’s confession.

you give a small, breathless laugh, holding zion closer as you look at the man who is both your beginning and your forever.

“jungkook,” you manage, your voice thick, barely more than a whisper. “how do i even… how do i follow that?”

the room chuckles softly, a few sniffles heard from the crowd, but you barely notice as you take a step closer to jungkook. his gaze pulls you in, that warmth surrounding you.

“i’ll start off by saying… everyone knows jungkook’s guilty pleasure is twilight, right?”

a few gasps are heard, and jungkook’s eyes widen in mock horror.

“honey—”

“so i’ll say this: for every second, every memory, every joy, and every heartache… i choose you too… because, honey, no measure of time with you will ever be long enough, but we’ll start with forever.”

jungkook chuckles, a deep blush spreading across his cheeks. it’s a mix of embarrassment and unmistakable affection lighting up his face. even though he’s trying to fight it, you can see that your words have touched him, and it makes you smile.

your voice wavers, and you pause, catching his gaze one last time. “and i believe in that forever of ours—more than i ever believed in anything.”

as the last words leave your lips, you see the pink flush deepen across jungkook’s cheeks. the surprise in his eyes melts into that soft, adoring smile—the one reserved just for you. the room is silent for a beat, as if everyone is letting the moment settle in, before they break into applause, a few playful whistles cutting through the warm atmosphere.

then hobi calls out, “light your candles and blow them out! zion’s drooling already!”

laughter erupts, and you find yourself laughing too, the joy of the moment infectious.

holding zion close, you turn to the cake, the soft glow of the candles flickering across your face. jungkook lights them for you, and for a brief second, you close your eyes, making a wish. the room hums as everyone sings you happy birthday.

with a gentle breath, you blow out the candles, and the room erupts into cheers and applause. voices ring with love and laughter. zion giggles in your arms, clapping his small hands in excitement, his face beaming with pride as he looks up at you. you kiss his cheek, smiling through your own laughter.

jungkook leans over, slipping his arm around your waist, and presses a tender kiss to your temple.

“what’d you wish for, mama?” he asks softly, his voice low and full of warmth.

“oh… you know,” you sigh, leaning into his embrace. “forever.”

[cloudedcreams]

soft yandere oc (casper) x reader !!

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ “i haven’t done anything wrong, have i?” he asked, his head tilted towards you. you met his gaze with a slight apprehension, shaking your head.

you hadn’t known him for long by this point. it had been a few days so far, and you assumed he was referring to your silence. you spoke to him sometimes, maybe when asking him for small favours or a question or two, but you never took the care to make an actual conversation between the two of you.

“there it is again, your lack of interest. is there anything i can do to keep you more engaged, dove?” he said, sighing as his hands came to a halt. he was sorting your hair into braids, and weaving white ribbons between them, but he paused his motions as he stopped.

you looked up at him, and cleared your throat before speaking.

“well… i’m not sure what to say. it’s not that i’m not curious or whatever it is you want me to be, i’m just fine with us staying as we are.”

he nodded, continuing to plait your hair.

“well i’m contented for the two of us to stay in silent. i wanted to make sure the two of us were on the same page, that’s all.

after all, what more could i ask other than for you to sit still and stay pretty? you’re committing to your role perfectly.”

his words sent a slight unease through your spine. you debated them for a moment, before bringing yourself to question them.

“my role? what is my role..? is it the reason that i’m here casper?”

he let out a slight shiver at the sound of you saying his name, before a small smile graced itself upon his lips.

“you’re my doll, aren’t you? whether you decide to speak or not, you’re mine to do what i please with. any objections you have towards the matter aren’t of relevance, dear.” he said.

you couldn’t find it in yourself to respond, giving him a small hum as you continued to sit in silence. he tutted approvingly, and the two of you. continued your peace in quietude. 𐙚🧸ྀི

[mariesmagix]

"𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧."

[golden brown; the stranglers]

˖° 𐙚  reader x knight!abby-anderson ; wlw

 ₊˚⊹ content; no y/n, angst/fluff (varies on spectrum), future smut

[sneakpeak/pre to a larger fic, if this launches well lol]

backstory; you're a princess, by blood, and you're to be declared to someone else in a short manner of time, which was entirely unprecedented-- to the both of you. abby is your devoted crownsguard, and personal knight, whom you've known since the age of 12. she doesn't want to cannot see you with anyone else.

NOTES; ok so this is like my first fic in a WHILEEE.... sooo... beware lol, but this has been gathering dust in my drafts so still dk if this will be a continued series but please do let me know in the comments or w/ anon if you think it should!! <3

It was a dark afternoon. Earlier Abby had commented that the weather 'was vociferous', indoors rather quiet, despite the rain pattering violently against the stained glass panes of the windows. The castle was cold-- tile floors unforgiving with the temperature as you slipped with grace from your vanity, hair neatly combed and styled up into a half-up, half-down sort of do. You readied yourself for a crown meeting this afternoon, which was in.. roughly an hour, you assumed, glancing at the large, ornate contraption of a clock across the room, gazing over the roman numerals sharply.

After powdering your face, and slipping on your heels to look presentable enough to address the councilmen and the crown advisor. You stood, gathering your skirt in two graceful hands, readying to open the door-- until, at the same time, knuckles rapped at the door. You turned the ornate, golden handle; met with your trusted guard, and Abigail's tall, towering gaze.

Despite her appearance, she had a rather warm expression, almost softening at the sight of you. "My princess," she began, looking at you with her sultry, deep, blue irises. "I've been sent to retrieve you, for the King and Queen's inquiry," Abigail smiled softly, you nodding to her words, "You're earlier than expected," You chuckled, and she returned your demeanor, looking at you almost with.. longing. "Better than late, no?" She humored, before reaching with an elbow to take your arm, like usual. You looped yours with hers in instinct, allowing her to escort you to the tearoom, where your parents sat soundly, awaiting your presence that they'd beckoned for.

Abigail pushed upon the handle of the ornate, floral decorated door, holding it open courteously for you, who walked in elegantly, curtsying in your parents' presence.

"We've something rather.. important, to discuss, before the council meeting this evening, darling." Your mother began, looking despondently at you. Your father; the king, chimed in, "You also, won't be attending the council meeting." He announced, and your brows furrowed together, lifting your head to make defiant eye contact with him. "..Why not? I've been present, every year, since I was of twelve." You frowned, clearly displeased, but looking upon your mother; hoping she'd speak out and take your side, all you could discern was her downcast expression. Clearly, this was something serious. Your father cleared his throat, settling in his throne and looking to you with a consequential guise.

"You'll be wed, coming this December."

He declared, your eyebrows going up in shock-- you'd only turned of eighteen three months ago; certainly, this was early. Now, you understood why Abby's demeanor was more solemn, than usual. Why she hadn't grinned stupidly at you like she normally did. You felt your world collide and crash, the crescendo of the atmosphere quickly pivoting to a nose-plant downwards. You barely remembered to breathe, inhaling deeply after finally reminding yourself, and all you could say was;

"...to whom?" You tried to reply, the tremble in your voice evident anyways. You glanced back at your trusted companion; who was standing uniform beside the door, looking at you shamefully-- with sorrow in her not as sultry, blue eyes. Your lower lip quivered, and you tried to maintain not a horribly sorrowful guise, although still looking to your parents like a kicked puppy.

DIVIDER CREDITS: @/olenvasynyt @bernardsbendystraws @/cafekitsune @/saradika

images sourced from pinterest

[thomaslittlegirl]

could we have some smut with bill furlong? 🫣 something where yn is his stress relief and he is very sub with her and pathetic and begs her to fuck him slowly and passionately 😩😩😩😩

i love how pathetic is here :( i need to make him feel good!!

heavenly. bill furlong

warnings; sub!bill, breeding, kinda cockwarming.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

"baby, please." bill murmurs under his breath. his hands caress your back up and down inside your shirt.

furlong had gotten home from work about half an hour ago and had taken a shower, quickly putting on comfortable clothes to get to your side.

he had missed you so, so much.

your eyes look at him with love and one of your hands rests on his cheek, caressing it out of inertia.

"please... let me fuck you." he asks in a choked voice. "let me be inside you... i need to feel you all warm inside..."

the man looks at you with bright eyes, putting on his best angel face. he can't wait another second, he needs to bury himself in your warmth.

when you nod your head, the man smiles weakly and begins to remove the bottom of your clothes, leaving you naked from the waist down.

his mouth begins to salivate just seeing you like this, so exposed to him. he quickly takes off his shirt and pants, demonstrating his lack of underwear. he was prepared, looking forward to this moment. his cock stirs annoyingly against his stomach, aching for relief.

bill wets two of his fingers with his saliva and brings them closer to your crotch, helping to get you wet so you can take in his length. a few seconds after feeling his fingers you get tired: you want his cock.

"please... just fuck me." you ask.

bill removes his fingers from inside you and slowly inserts himself into you, biting his lips when he feels how tight you are. he waits a few seconds for you to get used to the intrusion, knowing that it wouldn't be pleasant for you if he started to move.

when your hips begin to sway, furlong understands that you are ready and begins to push and penetrate you.

gasps escape his mouth as he feels you getting easier to slide. "you're so wet... you feel so wet and hot... it's like heaven..."

bill gets so lost in his own thoughts that he doesn't seem to notice that his thrusts are becoming erratic. you feel so good around him that he can only close his eyes and wait for the orgasm to take him.

"let me be in charge." you ask, when you notice how tiredness takes over. bill lets himself be done as you want and his body hits the mattress, sighing when he feels you on top of him, lining up his cock at your hole.

lne of bill's favorite things was when you took control. he thought you looked beautiful and he loved feeling used by you. he cums too much when you both were in this pose.

"it feels so good to ride you... i could ride your cock for hours." your words echo in his head and he feels the corners of his eyes fill with tears.

his hands curl around your waist and he sits on the bed, resting his head on your chest as you move harshly.

"please don't stop... don't stop, doll. you feel so good... you're making me feel so good... please." bill blurts out words as he cries and squeezes your waist, feeling overwhelmed by the pleasure.

"am i making you feel good, love?" you ask softly, curling your arm behind his neck.

"so good... you're an angel... you're an angel to me... you're going to make me cum."

you smile, feeling your legs starting to cramp. "me too... im about to..." you speak as you try to get off his lap. his big hands prevent you.

“no… no…” he begs with desperation in his voice, holding you in place as his hips begin to thrust upwards. "let me cum inside you. let me fill you... i've been good... please..."

your eyes widen in amazement. you always fucked without a condom but when he was about to cum he would pull out. a method that was not very functional but that had served them until now, by the grace of fate.

"please. i just want to fill you, don't you want that? don't you want to feel full of my cum? please, it will feel good... i promise."

his words convince you quickly and you nod at the man's teary eyes. your hips move again and they meet the furlong thrusts.

it's a matter of seconds before you come around his cock and he follows seconds later, filling you to the brim.

bill sniffle, feeling overwhelmed by his orgasm. one of your hands caresses his hair and your heart warms when you see him slightly disheveled and tearful.

"was i good? was i good for you?" he asks, running his large hand down your back.

you nod, comforting him with your words. "yes, love. you made me feel really good."

he smiles briefly, hiding his face between your breasts again.

"i never want to leave your insides. your cunt feels heavenly."

[thefemmefatalexo]

Nanami SMAU - A Verdict of Us

Chapter 11 - The Things We Can’t Say

Summary: Kento Nanami was perfect—disciplined, untouchable, and entirely focused on his future. Emotions didn’t fit into his plans. You were everything he avoided—bold, warm, and impossible to ignore. You told yourself he didn’t matter, but you couldn’t stop watching him.

He never looked your way. Not until the day his perfectly controlled world unraveled, and you were at the center of it.

an: Yeah… this isn’t getting better. SMOOCHES 💋💋💋

{chapter 10} ; {next}

taglist: @giasssslife @getovibesonly @inthedarkshadows000 @burpzz @sleepykittyenergy @fuzzycollectiondeersblog

࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

You had been haunting Nanami’s thoughts since that night.

He could still feel the lingering warmth of the moment—the soft glow of the garden lights, the way the stars framed your face, the look in your eyes right before you leaned in. He had stopped you. Walked away without a word. And yet, your presence refused to leave him.

It wasn’t just the near-kiss that plagued him; it was everything leading up to it. The laughter, the shared glances, the way conversation flowed so easily between you. He had let his guard slip, let himself enjoy your company more than he should have. It was a miscalculation, one he had spent the past few days trying to correct.

Avoidance was the best solution.

He didn’t text you. Didn’t acknowledge you in class. If he saw you across campus, he turned the other way. It wasn’t cruel—at least, that’s what he told himself. It was necessary.

His life had been planned out since the day he was old enough to understand it. He would become an exceptional lawyer, take over his parents’ firm, and uphold the family name. That was his purpose. There was no room for distractions—especially not one as unpredictable as you.

His parents would never approve. They tolerated your family, but only in the way one tolerated an inevitable inconvenience. Too much money, too little discipline, his father had once said. More interested in social events than serious legal work. His mother had been more subtle but no less dismissive. She’s charming, I suppose, but charm only gets you so far.

He knew exactly what they would think if they found out he had entertained anything more than polite acquaintanceship with you. They would be disappointed.

And Nanami Kento did not disappoint.

That was why, when he accompanied his parents to the Asakura Legal Summit, he forced himself to stand straight, speak eloquently, and engage in the dull but necessary small talk that came with these events. His parents’ friends had a daughter—a well-mannered, intelligent law student, poised and composed in the way that made her an ideal match, at least in their eyes.

He made conversation with her, answering her polite questions and offering equally polite responses. She was pleasant, intelligent, and respectable.

And yet, the moment you walked in, he forgot whatever it was they had been discussing.

You were breathtaking.

The gown you wore was elegant but effortless, the soft fabric flowing around you as if you belonged in a dream. Your confidence, the way you carried yourself, only made it worse.

You saw him. Your eyes met.

For a second, he thought—hoped—you might come over. But you didn’t. You simply glanced away, turning your attention to someone else, leaving a hollow ache in his chest he hadn’t anticipated.

This is for the best, he reminded himself.

But as the night dragged on, it became unbearable. Every time he saw you laughing with someone, every time you charmed another guest with your easy grace, every time you didn’t look at him—it chipped away at the careful walls he had built.

And then he saw you with him.

A young man, handsome, confident, clearly taken with you. You smiled at him, said something that made him laugh. Nanami clenched his jaw.

Before he could think better of it, he was moving.

“Excuse me,” he muttered to the group he had been standing with, barely registering their response as he strode across the room.

You looked up as he approached, brows raising in surprise. The man beside you hesitated.

“May I steal you for a moment?” Nanami asked, his tone leaving no room for refusal.

You blinked but nodded, excusing yourself from the conversation. He led you to a quieter corner, away from prying eyes.

“Nanami,” you said carefully. “What are you—”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted.

You stared at him, caught off guard. “For what?”

He hesitated. He couldn’t tell you the truth—that he had been avoiding you because he was afraid of how much he liked you, because you made him question everything he thought he wanted, because you were dangerous in the way that made him want to throw away years of discipline just to see you smile at him like you used to.

So instead, he simply said, “For how I acted.”

A brief silence stretched between you before you let out a quiet laugh, though there was no humor in it. “Right. You’re apologizing for avoiding me.”

He nodded.

You sighed, looking down for a moment before meeting his gaze again. “I get it,” you said, softer this time. “You’re not interested. I shouldn’t have—” You shook your head. “I shouldn’t have tried to kiss you. That was my mistake.”

Nanami opened his mouth to argue, but the words wouldn’t come. You think I don’t want you. That I don’t care.

Maybe that was for the best.

“You don’t have to explain anything,” you continued, forcing a small smile. “We can just… move on, okay?”

He wanted to say something—anything—but his silence spoke for him.

You exhaled, shaking your head slightly. “Alright then.”

The moment felt too heavy, too final, and maybe that’s why he found himself saying, “You looked like you were enjoying yourself tonight.”

Your lips quirked. “Is that your way of changing the subject?”

“Yes.”

You huffed a small laugh, your tension easing just slightly. “Fine. It was… tolerable.”

“Just tolerable?”

“Okay, maybe a little fun.”

Nanami exhaled, some of the weight in his chest lifting. “Good.”

A beat of silence passed between you. It wasn’t the same as before—there was a distance now, one he had created. And yet, you were still here, still speaking to him as if he hadn’t spent the past few days pretending you didn’t exist.

“You really had no reason to apologize, you know,” you said after a moment. “You were just being honest. I can take rejection, Nanami.”

He flinched at that word—rejection. That wasn’t what this was.

But what was it, then?

Before he could answer, you continued, voice quieter now. “I just… I thought maybe you felt something too.” A small, self-conscious laugh left your lips. “But I guess that was just me misreading things.”

Nanami clenched his fists at his sides. Tell her she’s wrong, some part of him whispered. Tell her you feel everything she thinks you don’t.

Instead, he said, “You didn’t misread anything.”

Your brows furrowed slightly. “Then why—”

“It’s complicated.”

You let out a slow breath. “Right. Of course, it is.”

The air between you felt heavier now, like something unsaid was pushing against it.

Finally, you smiled again—smaller this time, but still undeniably you. “I should get back.”

He nodded. “Of course.”

You turned to leave, but before you walked away, you glanced over your shoulder. “Don’t avoid me again, Nanami.”

He swallowed. “I won’t.”

You didn’t smile, but there was something softer in your gaze before you disappeared back into the crowd.

Nanami exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.

He had gotten what he wanted.

So why did it feel like he had lost something?

[dear-starshine]

i don't need a prince to save me

i need Chappell Roan

[aegonsvhagar]

Lamb to Slaughter V

𐙚 Aemond's plans are laid bare, and so are you.

𐙚 Aemond x Reader (tw: manipulation, incest, suggestive)

(A/N- hi besties... im alive. also reader being strictly a Helaena defender and not an Alicent defender is so funny to me.. anyways enjoy)

“Behold! The traitor dragon Meleys!”

The surrounding small folk began to cheer.

“Slain at Rook’s Rest by your King!”

You gasp softly, hands finding Aemond’s arm and gripping it firmly. From the corner of your eye, you watch him slowly glance at you, then return his gaze back to the carriage carrying the dead dragon’s head.

Things had been…awkward. You barely graced either boy’s bed, slipping back into childish traditions and laying beside Helaena at night. Almost like she knew that you had stopped sleeping with Aegon, she had allowed you into her bed and had begun holding you.

She was no replacement for your mother, but things had been tense there too. Only sharing fleeting glances at one another when passing in halls.

“I thought dragons were gods.” you murmur to him.

“They are.” he nods.

You shake your head. “They're just meat.”

Aemond sighs.

“Where is Aegon?” you ask him. “He survived the battle did he not?”

“Why do you care so much for our brother? He is not your husband.”

“As I am not yours.” you bitterly reply.

“You could have been.” he assures.

“Wouldn't you rather marry that whore you visit so often? What was her name again? Aegon told me but it seems to be slipping my mind.” you shake your head.

“Don't.” it comes out as almost he’s begging.

“Don't.” you mock his voice. “Where is Aegon?”

Aemond grins, and points to the box that follows behind the horses. You gasp and turn to rush after him.

✮⋆˙

“Is he dead?” you ask Grand Maester Orwyle, hot tears streaming your face.

Alicent grabs for your hand, but you deny her. Only glancing at her for a moment before looking back at him, expecting an answer.

“His Grace remains with us for the moment Princess.” he assures you.

You begin to sob. “What has happened to him? Why won't anyone tell me!”

“He is burned Princess-”

“Maester I do not think it is wise to tell-”

“Shut up mother.” you hiss. “What benefit do you hold to be here at this moment?”

“You have grown to be-”

“To be what? Say it plainly, mother.” you glare at her.

“Aegon is burned throughout his body Princess. Half of his face, destroyed. Much of his body, destroyed.” Maester Orwyle explains. Something to cut the tension.

“Is my son going to die?” Alicent asks.

“I’m afraid I cannot say.” he shakes his head. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Your Grace, these next hours are the most critical.”

“Of course.” Alicent nods and glances at you. “Would you join me for the council today?”

“You’ve never asked me to join you before.” you reply, taking her hand and allowing her to lead you from Aegon’s room.

“In truth, Aemond wants you there.” Alicent sighs. “For what I do not know.”

“Is Aegon going to die?” you ask.

“I do not know.” she replies bluntly. “Ser Criston.”

You glance up to the Knight, who stops at Alicent’s calling of him. “Your Grace. Princess.”

“What happened to Aegon?” you ask.

Alicent grips your hand, as a way to be nice or to not ask such things. You ignore it.

“Is it not your job to protect the King, Cole? What has happened?” your tone is condescending.

“You are to call him Ser, a title he has-”

“Earned? He should be stripped of it. Protector of the King, hand of the King…and yet my brother, our King, is in pieces.” you shake your head, “Some protector you are.”

“What happened?” Alicent asks.

“We took the castle.” Criston reports. “At the cost of some nine hundred men.”

“So I’ve heard.” Alicent nods. “The King, Ser Criston, what befell him.”

“His Grace fought valiantly.” Criston speaks in a hush, defeated tone.

“What was Aemond’s part in this?” you ask softly.

“I could not say.” Criston looks at you. He looks for a few seconds, studying your features. Criston had become the number one voyeur of the royal family for the past months, since he was attached to Alicent, and Aegon. He had seen your comings and goings from Aegon’s room. Even Aemond’s. He was aware you had dutifully bounced from one man to the other, and from the moans he had heard seeping from the chambers, you had served them well.

But recently, he had noticed almost a cold war had gone on between the three of you. Criston was made aware, mostly from Aegon’s companions, of what had happened in the brothel. And of course word had gotten back to you. Who had told you? Criston couldn't be sure. But it caused you to ice Aemond out of your bed, and lean towards Aegon. But even then, after a week you had iced Aegon out as well.

“So Aegon is wounded heavily?” you repeat. “Someone will have to rule in his stead.”

You shook your head and departed off, the guards opening the large counsel doors for you.

“My darling sister.” Aemond is sitting where Aegon usually sits. Where the King is meant to be sat. “I am glad you are attending.”

“Why was she called to attend?” Criston asks, sitting beside you at the table.

You roll your eyes at his comment. Alicent takes the other seat beside you, and once again, attempts to reach for you. You once again, deny her.

“The armor was Valyrian steel, but His Grace suffered grievous burns over much of his body. He has many broken bones.” Maester Orwyle joins, his words starting the meeting. “I fear there are more injuries within, injuries we cannot see.”

“Thank you for all you have done.” Alicent starts. “The Princess and I, are grateful for all you have done for him, as is the realm.”

“Has he woken?” you ask, pouting.

“No. I am not sure he will ever wake Princess. Our king’s fate lies with the gods now.” Maester Orwyle nods.

“He cannot rule from his sleep.” you say looking at Aemond, a small smile appears on his lips.

“I must agree with the Princess, the realm will have noticed his absence.” Lord Jasper cuts in.

“Let them hear of his great deeds at Rook’s Rest. But now we must name a regent to take his place until he recovers…or does not.” Alicent voices,

“And who do you think should be named regent, Your Grace? Helaena is a good candidate because she is currently Queen.” you add.

Laughter fills around you. The look of anger on Aemond’s face does not pass you.

“Laughing at a Princess of the crown should be a great offense, should it not?” Aemond cuts into their laughter, the room falling silent immediately. “She is of royal blood, mocking her could be considered treasonous.”

“I myself served in this role for my husband. I am well-prepared to do it again.” Alicent glares daggers at the men who laugh at you, reaching again for you, this time you allow her affection.

“You played your part admirably in a time of peace, Your Grace, but circumstances have changed.” Lord Jasper reminds her. “And as for the Queen…she is not fit to take a regency for the Kingdom.”

“Why not?” you sound disappointed, for everything you've done to Helaena, you're quick to defend her.

Maester Orwyle’s voice chimes in, “It is experience that offers the surest path to security. Queen Alicent ably shouldered the duties of the realm when her husband’s health failed him.”

“Experience is valuable, yes, but the dowager queen is a woman.” Lord Jasper sighs, almost as if what he was hearing was impossible to comprehend.

“I am no stranger to rule or to sitting at this council.” Alicent declares.

“The obvious choice is his immediate successor, Prince Aemond.” Lord Jasper tells you.

You and Aemond share a look.

“Agreed.” Tyland nods.

“Aemond is young. And his lack of restraint has already cost us dearly.” Alicent sounds disgusted.

“Mother, I think Aemond is a good choice if Helaena cannot stand in for regent. Aemond is a fearsome dragon rider, similar to our ancestors the conquerors. He paints a very picture of them. He is wise, and very well versed in the histories.” you find yourself defending Aemond. Despite all of your anger towards him and the utter betrayal you felt from him, you still loved him more than anything. And you weren't stupid, allying with Aemond would be the smartest choice in your current circumstances.

“I agree, Princess. It must be Prince Aemond. What would it say if, in response to Rhaenyra’s crowning, we raised up a woman of our own?” Lord Jasper shakes his head.

Alicent takes her hand from yours.

“But the Hand speaks for the king’s voice. Ser Criston, what say you?” Lord Jasper turns to the Knight.

Criston glances at Alicent, then at you. You give him a distant smile and nod. Aemond watches your every move. “Aemond is the next in line. It must be him.”

“I agree.” you say, looking at Aemond and giving him a smile.

His heart nearly beats from his chest.

“It’s agreed then. What is our standing in the Riverlands?” Aemond nods and asks, glancing around his table for answers.

“You wouldn't want me regent?” Alicent whispers to you as the counsel’s voices fade her out.

“I do think you should be regent, it is plain as my feelings towards you.” you give her a dull look.

Aemond’s voice raises up again, “We shall meet again at first light. Oh, and someone cut down the fucking ratcatchers.”

✮⋆˙

Your maids were quick to bathe you, and help you into your nightgown. It was a soft lavender, with lillies sewn in. A gift from Helaena as a sign that your relationship was bettering.

“My lamb?” Aemond’s voice calls from the doorway. “Do you think the Princess and I can have some alone time?”

The maids bow and are quick to exit the room, leaving you and Aemond alone.

“Do I call you, king now?” you ask, breaking the awkward silence.

“You defended me to be regent, and here I thought you hated me?” He sits himself on your bed.

“I am sorry if I have been cruel to you. I guess I was jealous and upset at…”

“My brothel adventures. You should've been told by me. Not Aegon.” Aemond leans back, and you rake in his full form.

You would be lying if you didn't think he was still attractive. Gorgeous frame and structured face like a god. He truly was the image of the conquerors.

“Did you miss me lamb?” he reaches a hand out to you.

And of course you take it, quickly finding yourself in his lap, your lips finding him.

“Please don't go to her again.” you beg.

“I only sought comfort in her because you ran to Aegon.” he lies through his teeth.

Your kisses are desperate, and messy. He can barely keep up. You slowly grind into his lap, himself bucking up into you.

God he missed you. God you missed him. Aegon was a good lover, but nothing could compare to the sheer devotion Aemond supplied you.

“What happened to Aegon?” you ask, breathless.

“The same thing that will happen to anyone else that gets in the way of us.” he assures you.

“Aemond?” your eyes grow wide. “What have you done?”

“I did it for you. Now I am regent, and Aegon will die. I will be King, you my Queen.” Aemond comforts you, or tries to.

“Aemond…”

“Shhhh.” he hushes, and begins removing your gown. “Nothing will stand in the way of us. Not mother, not Aegon”

“Nothing has stood in the way of us.” you murmur at his delusions. He could technically have you if he truly wanted, no one would stand in his way. Especially not now.

“You were so bewitched with Aegon. How could I be sure you wanted me?” He kisses you softly.

You pouted, “I’d be queen?”

“Yes.” he nods, and thrusts up again into you. This time, getting a moan out of you. “Oh you missed me, didn't you lamb? Aegon not please you?”

“Not like you did.” you shake your head.

Aemond smiles, he had Aegon’s throne and now he had you.

[princessbrunette]

John b letting puppy reader paint his nails even tho she has shaky hands and paints outside the nail bed <3 (projecting)

૮ • ﻌ - ა ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

“you know i don’t know if this bright pink is my colour, pup.” john b squints one eye with a sly smile, the expression telling you everything you needed to know — that being he really didn’t care what colour you chose for him.

“its my favourite, therefore its perfect. because you’re my favourite too.” you explain matter of factly as you unscrew the top, the dried paint on the inside making it momentarily hard to unscrew before you cracked it, grabbing his hand with your clammy one and laying it on your thigh. “you have to stay really still.” you instruct in a quieter tone, locking in with wide eyes as you dip the brush into the paint.

“still as a statue, got it.” he nods with faux seriousness, unable to wipe the adoring smile off his face as he places all his concentration into watching you instead. his eyes flicker down to his nails when he feels the cool paint breach his skin, the shakiness of your hands making it difficult for you to keep the paint on his nails alone. “oh, whoops.” his voice rumbles from above you.

you ignore this, continuing on with your job — tongue tucked between your lips in concentration, quietly humming under your breath.

after finishing up on one hand, you hold his palm up into the light to get a better look before folding slightly in frustration, face crumpling just a tad. “god, i messed it up so much.”

“hey, that’s alright. i think i like it better like this. looks more rugged and manly, y’know.” he nods and your eyes flicker to his, a small smile biting at the corners of your lips.

“umm, whatever. your nails are barbie pink, i’m not sure if rugged and manly is the vibe.” you let a giggle slip before leaning forward to blow at his nails to help the drying process, a few flecks of spit gracing his hand as you puff your cheeks out to do so.

“wow, puppy seriously it’s 2024. of course barbie pink is manly.” he sarks, eyes focused on making sure the nail paint bottle didn’t spill on your lap. “careful, sweetheart.”

your head raises, spitty lips smushing against his suddenly like you’d had a sudden wave of affection for your boyfriend. he cups your cheek with his non painted hand, smile curving against your lips. “and now you’re kissing me? kinda unprofessional for a salon if you ask me. think i wanna talk to your manager.” the mirth is evident in his voice and you giggle in retaliation, clambering onto his lap — your boyfriend saving the polish from being knocked over as you do so.

“‘kay… my managers in my pants. you gotta take them off if you wanna speak to her.” you laugh delightedly against his mouth, clashing teeth and he chuckles, lifting his chin for a moment to escape the kisses, hands carefully finding your waist.

“wow, okay.” he sarks, only making you giggle harder, kissing his jaw and writhing on his lap a little. “gonna get nail polish on your clothes, messy girl.”

you calm a little from your giggle attack, the arousal settling in. “s’okay daddy.” the change in your voice clear, becoming more slurred and needy as the moments pass. he centres in, realising that you really do need him now. the daddy nickname meant it was go time, and suddenly he didn’t care too much about having one set of unpainted fingernails.

૮ • ﻌ - ა ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

[vanilladove]

𐙚⋆.⋆♡ dollhouse

spooktober 2024 masterlist

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚 pairing: yandere!ayatsuji yukito x fem!reader

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚 content warnings: kidnapping, dollification, stockholm syndrome, a tiny bit suggestive

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚 summary: an intriguing customer with an obsession for dolls visits your family's antique shop and is captivated by you, but little do you know what he has in store for you...

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚 word count: 2.5k

The door to the basement clicked open, signaling that he was back home.

Ayatsuji Yukito. The man who had kidnapped you randomly and gotten away with it, because he could.

You still remembered meeting him at your parents' antiques shop, the smell of smoke wafting past you. The way his gold orbs cut into your soul, and the following shudder your body let out—looking back now, it must've been a sign, but you ignored it. How could you not, though, with how beautiful the man behind you was? When you turned around, you took in his appearance.

His messy blonde waves and his dressed-up attire—donning a white button-up, gray sweater vest, and a maroon tie tucked underneath. When he pushed up his yellow-tinted sunglasses, his eyes finally met yours. Giving you a calculated look up-and-down, he smiled like he was pleased about something.

Remembering your employee duties, you cleared your throat, "H-Hi, can I help you with anything, sir?"

He looked around suddenly, checking out all of the windows like he was making sure no one was following him. "Ah, yes, actually—" he looked back again, trying to flash you another grin like he was trying not to be suspicious, "Do you have any dolls here?"

Your eyes widened in delight; no one ever came for those, "Dolls? Yes, we have some in the back. Follow me." You motioned for the man to go down the aisles with you, but you didn't know Ayatsuji was observing you, too.

He admired your loose braid, fastened by a red gingham bow. The puffy white dress and brown leather mary janes you wore, matching the aesthetic of the store. Cute. The detective thought, wondering if you liked wearing frilly skirts and laced high heels. You'd look pretty like that, you already had such lovely doe eyes.

"Here they are, sir."

"Ayatsuji. My name's Ayatsuji, darling." He shook his head, "I'm not that old yet." You giggled from that, the angelic sound gracing his ears as you blushed from slight embarrassment. You were oblivious to the way your presence captivated him.

Your ruby-tinted lips turned upwards, "These are the dolls, Ayatsuji," you paused, noticing how he admired the ball-jointed dolls on the rack, and explained the assortment to him. His gaze wandered from the dolls to you and back and forth, and he attentively listened until you were done speaking. "Are you buying them for anyone special? A girlfriend or a younger sis—"

His golden eyes cut into you again, but not before a smirk appeared, "No, they're for me. I collect dolls."

You curiously brought a finger to your lips—he was definitiely an interesting man. "Collect dolls, huh? Most customers avoid this rack because they think they're haunted or too creepy." You turned to the side to smile again, recalling the pranks you used to play on your cousins who were scared of dolls.

Ayatsuji sighed, a coy smile still on his face, "Creepy? I don't think so. I actually find them quite enchanting. Dolls are far more intriguing than people. You never grow sick of them." You were surprised to see his face so close to yours, goosebumps crawling up your arms. He looked even better up close, and you were sure the rose coming back on your cheeks didn't hide anything.

You internally scolded yourself for being so attracted to a random customer, but you couldn't help it. Your parents had moved far away from your hometown to open an antique store closer to the city, so you didn't know anyone here. Since you already finished school and felt obligated to help your parents run their shop, you never had time to meet people. Customers were your main form of outside interaction, and hot men never came in.

You're staring at him too much. Look away. Your mind screamed at you, and you abided, coughing awkwardly. You knew it was unethical to fall in love with the first attractive man you could talk to, "I see, um, well, let me know if you have any questions. I'll be by the register—"

Ayatsuji pulled you closer, forcing your uncertainty-filled eyes to look into his again, "Wait, I have a question for you." Time stopped as he pleaded softly. You tapped his arm again, signaling that you weren't leaving. He stared intensely at the dolls again, squininting his eyes as he slowly let go of your shoulders, looking you up and down again.

"These dolls...are there any that look like you?"

You stepped away, cheeks heating up, "Wha-What?" You were startled by the way he so casually asked you that, "O-Oh, you mean any with my style of clothes?" You frantically turned back, grabbing a doll with braided hair and a white puffy dress and trying to shove it into Ayatsuji's hands, but he stopped your motions halfway.

He smirked amusedly at you, entertained by your flustered reaction, "No, darling, I mean any that look like you. With your same complexion, your pretty doe eyes, and beauty."

He spoke like a poet.

"You think I'm beautiful?" You started, not used to the abrupt compliment. "Wait, Ayatsuji, are you flirting with me?" You looked up to see the cheeky man laugh, a cocky grin still present. He nodded again, mumbling a soft mmhmm before tucking a stray piece of hair behind your pearl-adorned ears. You would be fun to dress up.

You opened your mouth, but you were cut off by the bell from the entrance ringing. "Ayatsuji! What the hell do you think you're doing here?! How did you even get past the sniper team?" An angry green-haired women in a suit stormed past the aisles towards you too, making Ayatsuji click his tongue and sigh in annoyance.

"Oh, Tsujimura, as always, you have the worst timing." He turned back to you, softening his facial expression, "Apologies our time has been cut short, darling, I would've loved to chat more with you. Can I—"

A black-gloved hand seized Ayatsuji's shirt collar and shook him aggressively, "Hello! Are you even listening to me?! I'm taking you back now!" He only swatted her hand away dismissively, making her even more mad.

His warm glance turned cold as he faced her, "I heard you the first time, alright?" He pointed to the doll in your hands, "Can I get that delivered to me?"

You were confused by the scene in front of you, but you shook your head, "No, unfortunately we're in-store only." Tsujimura fumed, about to take her wrath out on you next. You swore you could see steam coming out of her ears.

Side-eyeing her, Ayatsuji pulled you into an embrace, a sugary coffee scent filling your nose. He leaned down, whispering in your ear, "No worries, I'll come back for you, my precious doll." You froze, not expecting a hug and unsure if he was talking to you or the inanimate figure.

You felt chilly as his warm body left yours and he took his leave, waving goodbye as he was dragged out left with Tsujimura. What a strange encounter. You shoved the doll under the register and grabbed a cardigan to wrap around yourself, wondering when you'd see him again.

It wasn't until a week later, until you were closing the shop and heard the front door ring again, that you saw Ayatsuji again. Except he looked different. He was wearing a black turtleneck, black belt, and black trousers and shoes. Like he was trying to blend in with the night. It was dark since you'd dimmed most of the bright display lights. His gold eyes were all you could see, but there was a different glint to them.

"A-Ayatsuji! Y-You're back?!" You were taken aback, glad to see him but also a bit cold for some reason. He walked towards you, his boots clacking against the hardwood floor. You ran to meet him, smiling like he was your long-lost lover, and hugged him, wanting to return his gesture from before. His warm breath fanned the shell of your ear as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Hah, I'm glad you missed me too, darling." He stroked your hair, taming the unkept strands, "Can I take the pretty doll home with me now?" Your brows furrowed. He was talking strangely again, but you pulled away to nod and crouch to get the doll from a week ago. Ayatsuji took out a smoking pipe from his pocket, taking a long hit of it before blowing it by your face. You held the doll out, trying to give the figure to him while waving your hand and coughing from the smoke which he wouldn't stop blowing in your direction. You already felt a bit dizzy, and the last thing you remembered was his smirking face before the world turned black.

You were in a cold room full of dolls. It was adorned with old paintings and a Victorian-style bed, but you couldn't shake the feeling of the glass eyes boring into your shivering body—tied to the bed with some silky lace. You tried resisting against it, but it wouldn't budge.

A mocking laugh sent a familiar shiver down your spine, coming directly in front of you. Seated in a throne-like chair in front of you was Ayatsuji, your once charming yet unsettling customer. "Seriously, doll, you really need to stop with these futile escape attempts of yours."

Setting his hat and coat on the arm of the chair, he slowly made his way onto the bed beside you, suddenly turning soft as he caressed your cheek. You hated to admit it, but his warm touch was too easy to relish in and lean into, and it had slowly become the only source of comfort in your bone-chilling enclosure. He smiled in response, "At least try to appreciate me making it pretty and cute for you."

You mumbled a quiet 'thanks' which seemed to satisfy him. He excitedly untied your lace ropes like they were nothing and pulled you into his arms, and you reciprocated his gesture a bit too eagerly.

"I missed you, Ayatsuji. Please don't leave me in here with these dolls all the time." You whimpered, burying your face in your captor's chest, inhaling his coffee-smoke scent. He only continued to stroke your hair, kissing you gently.

"Don't say that, darling—I got all these friends for you since I knew how lonely you were before." The helpless look in your pleading eyes and your needy little pouts always pulled at Ayatsuji's cold heart--he couldn't resist himself from spoiling his precious doll.

You shook your head, "It's not the same...they don't talk to me, and it's so...cold here." Of course, you wouldn't mention the short dress and thin stockings on your body—Ayatsuji took care in picking out different dolly outfits and playing dress-up with you.

He tilted his head innocently, "You're cold? Ah, maybe I should gift you a puffy coat and leg warmers? So you look like one of those pretty slavic dolls?" He cupped your face excitedly with his big hands, scanning your figure up and down with a piercing gaze, "Yeah, you'd look nice like that."

You nodded frantically—anything to cover your exposed skin, making Ayatsuji giggle. "Doll...you know your clothes aren't cheap, right? Especially because I get them tailored to your body..." Your heart started beating. Fast. Ayatsuji always did this--offered something he somehow knew you were in need of in exchange for some sort of affectionate favor. It was all a plot to make you slowly become more dependent on him. And it always worked.

You placed your hands on his chest, getting ready to plead for something nice, "W-What do you want this time? A kiss? Homemade dinner?" You blushed, remembering the times you'd gotten more intimate, "Or se—"

He placed a finger to your lips, "You missed me today, so how about just a sweet little kiss?" He flashed you a caring smile while he leaned back against the head of the bed and patted his lap.

You exhaled shakily, becoming a bit too conscious of what you were wearing. You slowly made your way onto Ayatsuji's lap and pushed his bangs away gently. You told yourself that these acts of affection were just performances, but you started to question how much of it was an act and how much was through your own will. You certainly couldn't stop yourself from shivering when his hands teased your thighs, or the shaky breaths that left as he started drawing circles on your cold skin.

Bringing your face closer to his, you whispered, "I love you, Ayatsuji. Thank you for taking care of me." You dipped down and caught his lips with yours, kissing him passionately as his hands made their way up to wrap around your waist. Your mind was screaming at you not to indulge your kidnapper any further and to pull away, but his touch felt too nice.

You went further, loosening his collar and kissing down his neck. Ayatsuji groaned, pressing you down further against his lap. He felt so warm. "A-Ah, doll, you're so needy today." He pulled you away to gaze at your slightly glassy eyes, which were focused on him only. He started fiddling with the hem of your frilly dress, starting to place light kisses on your collarbone.

You felt cold again suddenly, so you looked up. A bony doll with black eyes was glaring at you shamefully, like it was disappointed in how easily your heart caved in to your captor.

Feeling your body still, Ayatsuji stopped and looked up to see your gaze wandering to the sides of the room where his other dolls were. "Doll—"

"Ayatsuji, how is my family?" You gripped his shoulders and looked back at him, but his face seemed more stoic now. "Are they...still looking for me?" You yelped as you felt his fingers dig into your hips.

"Darling, you're not supposed to worry about them anymore." He sighed dejectedly. Your eyes widened again when he squished your cheeks and pulled your face back down. "Dolls should just look pretty and give all their attention to their owners, right? You know that, don't you, love?" He shook your face softly as tears threatened to spill and the warmth left your body.

"Awww, don't cry and ruin your makeup, doll. Don't you still want that coat?" He pulled you down on his lap again and stroked your hair while wiping the drops forming by your eyes, careful not to smudge your eye makeup. He kissed near your ear before whispering into it, "Just keep kissing me, okay? You're so close."

You felt broken, but you couldn't disobey him. He was the only one looking after you now, and you knew you couldn't escape him. Shaking slightly, you placed your lips back on his, holding onto him for dear life. He exhaled blissfully again, happy you were back to being compliant.

"Like that, doll. I love you so much, you know? Just stay with me and don't think about anything else."

[chrissv4mp]

𐙚 MAKING SNOW ANGELS WITH BOYFRIEND! MATT...

you couldn't have been more surprised when he came to you with the idea, his hands stuffed into his sweatpants pockets, wearing one of his favorite sweatshirts. the santa hat had been a clear indication that he wanted something because there was no absolute way he'd put it on just for the fun of it. he smiled softly as he waddled over towards your relaxed position on the couch, tilting his head as he let himself fall onto the cushions beside you.

his head landed in your lap, staring at you from an upside-down view as his fingers occupied themselves with the strings of his sweatshirt: a habit he did whenever he thought you'd say no to something, which was weird because he was spoiled rotten. he kissed his teeth before speaking with a bashful smile, "sweetheart..." he hummed, twisting the strings of his sweatshirt.

"matt..." you match his tone with an amused smile gracing your own lips, hands coming down to rub at his shoulders. the feeling made his eyes close for a second, exhaling softly and almost forgetting what he was gonna say. but he couldn't, and he definitely was not gonna pass up the chance, especially when the snow was so thick today, "snow... angels..." he whispers, voice high-pitched like it was when you met him, "make 'em with me?" he finishes, a light pink hue coating his cheeks and the tip of his nose.

and that's how you got in this position, arms and legs spreading and coming back together while you laid in the fluffy, white snow beside matt. his angel had an obvious size difference from yours, and when he carefully stood up, he giggled at the comparison. he rubbed his glove-covered hands together as he stepped closer to you, grabbing your hand and hoisting you up to your feet. you stumbled into him, his body helping to warm you as you wrapped your arms around his neck, his own hands gravitating to your waist.

"don't even need the snow to be an angel, y/n." he whispers, kissing your forehead with a smile. his eyes bore into yours, both your eyes filled with love and admiration for each other. you gave him a quick kiss before stepping back to take a look at your work, eyes lighting up furthermore as you finally saw the snow angels. you nudged his arm like an excited little kid, the largest smile on your face as you squealed, "matt, baby! look at 'em!" you exclaim, earning a chuckle from his part as he rubbed your snow-covered back.

"again?" he suggests with a toothy grin, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he awaited your reply. you didn't even answer, immediately stomping through the snow to another area that was thick enough. matt stumbled after you, tripping over the layers of the fluffy substance before he finally made it to your overjoyed self, "chris would love this." he laughs, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches you lay down in the snow, the smile on your face contagious and only making his own grow.

his mind wanders as he watches you play in the snow, and it's only when a snowball gets launched at him does he finally get knocked back into the present. he gasps softly as it crumbles on his clothes, melting slowly and giving him time to find the culprit of the harmless attack, "c'mon, don't just stand there!" you call from your spot, watching as he shakes his head, "don't start a fight you can't finish, babygirl." he calls back as he bends down to grab a handful of snow, packing it in his hands into a ball before sending it your way.

when it hits your chest, you gasp playfully, your competitive side beginning to kick in as you sit up, crumbling the snow beneath your gloves as you watch him bend down to create another ball, "throw that and it's war, matthew." you threaten, to which he just shrugs and launches it in your direction. his eyes widen as he watches you stand up, laughter erupting from his throat as he hears your hurried footsteps behind him.

@jetaimevous @livvydunneness @watercolorskyy @blahbel668 @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @fallingforfalll2 @ncm9696 @ifwdominicfike @sturniolos4life16 @zayluvss @hopelessfawn

[bunnylove1]

𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 .ᐟ ౨ৎ

౨ৎ. Grace. ?! age 𐙚 : 19 prns ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 : she/they likes ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ : btd, tpof, VN, the beach, sweet foods the Color red and pink! Spicy foods, large kitty’s, and sea animals

Dislikes ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ : rude people, salty food, wasps, large dogs. The Color orange and yellow. Big crowds and public speaking

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 Fandoms I will write: my dear hatchet man, somethings wrong with sunny day jack, tpof, btd, tkatb, 14 days with you, cod. ⌗ . DNI! : minors, pedos, proshippers, people who push boundaries. Rapist and act (just no bad people please.) I will wright ₊˚⊹ ᰔ : smut, angst as long as it ends in fluff and fluff!

⋆. 𐙚 extra : I will not write about, piss, scat, underage sex, vomit, heavy rape, heavy suicide, detailed self harm, incest. I can try too write male readers but not for smut cause it’s hard for me too write. I usually use fem or gender neutral readers

Fell free too ask me any questions! I’m always open :D Thank you for listening pumpkins ! Have a good night/day! >ᴗ<