#Value-driven content | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bunnyhugs77 · 8 months ago

Text

Driven 2 U

Pairing: Rich! Reader x Mechanic! Jungkook

Word Count: 5.2k

Notes: am i back from the dead??

Content Warning: reader is a bit spoiled but she can't help it!, ft manager! yoongi, jk is so whipped, fluff, car troubles, reader is a bad driver, kissing, witty jk, some smut, pining, mentionsn of ex boyfriends, dirty hands, flowers, reader is a bit oblivious, mention of death, jungkook is delusional just like us.

Other Content: making out, late-night rendezvous, choking, semi-public sex, they're both so desperate, marking, soft dom! jk, light hair pulling, oral sex (f! receiving), cute conversations in between, praise.

The sun beamed down gently between the spaces of the clouds that littered the otherwise bright blue sky. Your Chanel sunglasses framed your face perfectly and your arm rested on the ledge of the window as you steered with the other. The air was sweeter, the flowers were in full bloom and the grass seemed greener.

The world always seemed so much more colourful when you had a hair appointment ahead of you. "I swear this is your third hair appointment this month." Yerin's voice rings through your aux, judgy as always, but you love her for it. She's been your best friend since you could walk, if anyone was gonna call you out it was gonna be her--it could only be her. You didn't listen to anyone else.

Especially not your overprotective dad, who kept nagging you to get your engine checked since that little light kept flashing at you. You didn't see the point. You thought of yourself as a pretty good driver even though all of your passengers often fled the moment you parked, swearing to never get in a car with you again, but they always came back.

"Yeah? What's your point? These roots aren't gonna touch up themselves." Your car began to jolt, "Uhh-" You trailed off, looking down to your dashboard and scanning for a source of the issue, "What?" Yerin asks and you quickly begin to lose speed. \

Turning on your four-ways you begin to pull over on the side of the road, "My engine light is flashing red and there's smoke coming out from my hood, is that bad?" Yerin doesn't say anything, there's silence in the car until she exhales, "You need to take your car to a mechanic like yesterday."

"-But I can't take it to Wheely's, that's where Jae used to take me whenever my car needed work." This time Yerin made sure you could hear her distress with an extra long sigh, "You guys broke up almost 6 months ago, I doubt they remember you. It's not like they'll refuse service because you broke up with one of their customers."

"Okay fine. You're lucky it's close, I'll just drive-" Before your hand could even make contact with the clutch, you're interrupted by a shout, "Do not even think about moving that car, Y/n. You'll completely kill the engine. Just call a tow truck. As a matter of fact, I'll call one for you."

That brings you to where you are right now. The passenger seat of a high-rimmed tow truck with a rugged driver. He seemed miserable to you at first, hooking your car up with a lot of grunts and 'tsks' slipping through clenched teeth until he really looked at you, eyes looking you up then down, taking in your very wealthy attire.

Suddenly small talk and friendly conversation were being made. With a rocky abruption, you bounced in your seat as the truck pulled into the back alley of the shop where there were lots of other damaged cars sitting around.

You thanked him and tipped him one hundred dollars. You clearly had no general comprehension of the value of a dollar, not when it comes to tipping at least.

You stood off to the side of the open garage, against the wall, waiting for the driver to come back after he'd gone inside to notify the mechanics that your car would need to be manually rolled in.

"You're still rolling in this piece of junk, Scooter?" A voice catches your attention two more men walk out of the garage alongside the driver. It seems the driver was known as Scooter around here though you doubt that's his real name.

"Hey, you better watch it, ol'Ruby here may be a bit aged but she's got character." Scooter taps the hood of the rusty pick-up truck while the two men stand in front of him with their arms crossed, one with mint hair and the other with dark locks; both of their backs facing you, yet to notice you were standing there.

"A bit aged? I'm certain Julius Cesar could identify it." The mint-haired man jokes and the brunette laughs while Scooter rolls his eyes.

Scooter waves you over, cueing the two men to look over their shoulders, a bit shocked they hadn't noticed you standing there earlier. "This is Yoongi and Jungkook, they'll be overseeing your repairs." They finally turned and Yoongi hardly got a full glance at you before his gaze was fixated on the man beside him who couldn't look away.

Unsure if your mind was playing tricks on you but you're fairly certain you'd seen them both before. Maybe not for long as you'd only ever been at the mechanics for a few short moments while Jae dropped off your car and switched into his.

Eyes wide and alert, you resembled a deer in headlights, unable to hold the soft gaze that was being sent your way. "Don't worry, you're in good hands," Yoongi reassures while Scooter gets back in his truck and pulls out.

"We need to roll it in, Jungkook and I are going to push from behind the car. Do you mind getting in the front and just steering to make sure to aim for the inside of the garage? Try to get it between the two pylons." Yoongie points into the garage where there are two markers a few meters apart.

Agreeing, you're just about to get back into the front seat when your phone rings. Both men were already in position, strong arms bracing the trunk and hunched over slightly, legs split apart, ready to bear the force back into the ground with each push, but you answered the phone instead.

Yoongi's brow arched while Jungkook just watched you.

"Y/n speaking."

It was your hairdresser, calling to see if you were still on your way as expected. Your heart sunk, you'd nearly forgotten ever since your car committed suicide and then Yerin was yelling at you.

"I'm so sorry- my car broke down and--" The boys listen intently, nosey as always. It wasn't often they had someone so interesting stroll into their quarters in the middle of the week.

"Yes, I know you're very busy and I would never want to waste your time--" You start but she interrupts you again. "No! Please don't put me on the waitlist I'll be there. I'm coming!" Hastily you get into the driver's seat and steer it in with the guys pushing behind you.

You got out nervously panicking, scrolling through all your contacts for someone to give you a ride. "Something wrong?" Jungkook couldn't help himself. He had to ask, even though he knew the answer.

"I have a hair appointment and she'd booked through for the next three months and if I'm not there in the next 15 minutes she's giving my spot away." Jungkook just stood there, while Yoongi worked on elevating the car.

Not a thought behind his eyes at your worries. You were in your own world for that to be your biggest concern but he tried to understand. "Why not get a Lyft?"

"Ew," Your hand clasps over your mouth almost immediately. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that--or to offend you-" Now Jungkook seemed taken aback, "Why would that offend me?" Your mouth gapes open like a fish before finally shutting.

"I'm just saying, the choice is yours. You can either get a Lyft or call the b-b-bus." He puts on a horrified expression as he chops up the last word to get it through to you. The result on your face was priceless.

"How about you give me a ride? I'll pay you." He stills, straightening his posture while his brows contorted, evidently confused. Even though Yoongi was on the opposite side of the car, crouched down on one knee, he too was confused. That wasn't an option. Jungkook is in full uniform, on the clock.

Does he get ahead of himself sometimes? Yes. The kid's got a big heart but he's not crazy, there's no way he would- "I'll get my keys." Yoongi lets his head fall in disappointment.

Jungkook led you around the back of the building then outside to the lot where he was parked and you turned to him blankly. "Which one is yours?" He unlocks the car as an answer, the headlights flashing at you. Quick on your heels you pivot to face him.

"This is your car?" Your acrylic points to the grey polished, sleek sports car that had the two doors opening on their own. "Not too shabby for the working class, huh?" He quips and you swat at his arm.

"I already said I was sorry about the Lyft thing, will you just let it go already? He snorts at how flustered you're getting, "Already? That was literally 60 seconds ago." You pout and get into the car, avoiding any further conversation.

His car smelled good, like really good. You found yourself taking deeper breaths than usual. It was hard to describe the smell but if you tried you would describe it as a bold yet comforting aroma, it almost reminded you of a man's cologne but mixed with the fresh scent of smoked leather. Sweet but musky.

"Leave some air for me." Jungkook jokes and your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets, he pulls out of the lot and heads for the address you gave him. "Just hurry up." You slouch back into the seat hoping the chair would consume you.

"You do realize you're basically in a Lyft right now." Jungkook points out as the ending revs and the car accelerates, cutting up traffic, one hand on the wheel and the other out the window, just like you.

You ignored how attractive his driving was and zeroed in on the topic at hand. "No, this is different. I personally hired you, for the next..." You lean forward to see the GPS and the remaining time to your location, "6 minutes, you're my personal chauffeur." He just had to laugh, all those times he saw you with Jae, he'd always wondered what you'd be like.

He never would've guessed you be so full of...you. But it would be one hell of a lie if he said it didn't add to your appeal. He was no longer in dangerous waters, no no. The moment he accepted your proposition, he'd thrown himself into shark-infested waves with a pressuring current, destined to pull him to the bottom.

Jungkook pulled up to the side of the salon and you hurried got out. "Thank you, Jungkook. I really appreciate it; oh and take care of my car!" You smile from outside the window looking in, about to leave when you reach for your phone and hand it to him.

His heart leaps from his chest. That's it? So easy? He lags for a moment, staring at your arm that was outstretched to him. "So you can tell me when my car is ready."

Oh.

"OH. Yeah. Of course." he enters in his information before handing it back to you, and the sight of your bouncy steps in your high heels and sunglasses is the last he sees of you before he makes his way back to the shop.

Walking into the garage he picks up an oil cloth that he knows he'll need soon. Startled, Jungkook's hand grabs his chest as Yoongi pops up from behind the car, the opened trunk shielding him from sight before. Grease-covered hands and stained attire are what he notices before his displeased expression.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't get in the front seat and back this car over you." He threatens, not a smile in sight except for the big one that spreads across Jungkook's apologetic face. "Because I'll work overtime for a week, unpaid."

Yoongi taps the wrench in his palm, thinking about it. "You were on the clock, Jeon. Make it two."

"Deal."

The two round the car to the open hood to get a better look at the engine. "Was it at least worth it? I know you've had your eyes on her since she first came in with that guy like two years ago."

"She's funny and she's beautiful. It's so over for me." Yoongi chuckles, reaching his hand into the hood, and starting the repairs. "Just ask her out, I don't see what the big deal is." He shrugs and Jungkook's head slowly turns, "This could be the love of my life, Yoongi. One wrong move and I lose my one chance, all my greatest dreams and aspirations-" Yoongi playfully closes the hood on Jungkooks fingers to shut him up.

"Alright Shakespeare, now help me get this engine out."

A week goes by when you are flipping through a magazine, 'What's the perfect job for you' the letters read and surprise surprise you got a model. You smiled as you placed the magazine back down on the craft services table as the photographer called you over to the center to resume the shoot.

This was for the cover of Serpahine, thankfully you weren't as nervous this time around as you were three years ago when it was your first time.

You'd been in the modelling world for a few years now, you got into it on a whim not expecting to really go anywhere with it, but the people loved you. You were only 19 when you went to your first shoot for a local retail store, fast forward six years and you'd actually driven past a billboard with your face on it this morning.

Once the shoot was done you finally reconnected with your beloved phone and saw there was a message from an unsaved number. "Your car is ready for pick up." Ah, finally.

You were sick of carpooling and hiring drivers this week, all you wanted was to finally get back behind the wheel of your own car.

The evening hadn't escaped you just yet. The sun was still out but slowly setting and casting an orange hue as you got out of the car in front of Wheeley's and dismissed them.

You could already see Jungkook from where you stood outside of the garage. Leant over the hood of another car, sleeves rolled up and tattoos on display. Just when he couldn't get any hotter.

You knocked on the wall, not sure if you could enter. He looks up with a glance before doing an immediate double take and stands to his full height. He welcomes you with a soft smile and gestures you over.

You approached him slowly, the last thing you wanted was to eat shit and land on the greasy floors in front of him.

The closer you got, the more intense his gaze became, "Wow, you look amazing." Jungkook compliments almost speechless. It was like you'd gotten even prettier from the last time he'd seen you.

Instinctively, you play with the chain of your white gold orchid necklace. It was just something you did when you were flattered or shy, in this case, a bit of both.

"Ahem." Neither of you had any idea where Yoongi had come from but he spawned and reminded Jungkook to stay focused before he vanished back into his office.

"Right. So. We assessed the damage to your engine, and the overheating engine caused the gasket to blow, causing the coolant and the oil to start mixing which is very bad." You could tell he was dumbing down the words for you and you had to stop yourself from chewing on your lower lip as he talked.

He's so hot when he talks about cars and stuff. "Are you following?" What? You thought you were doing such a good job of listening. He continued to explain what had been done and import fees and blah blah blah.

You weren't listening to a damn thing he was saying and Jungkook could tell. If he was being honest, he was hardly listening to himself, brain so warped on the fact that this was probably the last time he'd see you for a long time.

He walked you over to the register, "With the coverage you get from guardian auto insurance it reduces your initial price from 2,785.61 to 875.50." You blinked, guardian auto insurance. You had no memory of buying that, which is why you assumed your dad did and thank god for that.

Not that you couldn't afford the initial price but who would want to spend money on boring car stuff when they could go shopping? You paid and then remembered something.

"Here's your tip, for the Lyft." You smile handing him a hundred-dollar bill and he just smiles, not reaching for the money. "Aren't you gonna take it?" He shakes his head. "The car did all the work, all I did was steer. Besides, if I were you, I'd consider putting my money towards a better car."

Your hand falters, and you pout. "What's wrong with my Magma GRT?"

"I hate to say it, but this is the worst car money can buy. I see about three of these every week. For starters, the engineering of it is shit, it makes our job ten times harder. Not to mention it was wired by preschoolers, the batteries are cheap and I can guarantee you, your transmission is gonna blow sometime in the next year."

You stood there, jaw dropped.

"That's not true." You argue, feeling defensive over your sweet baby.

Jungkook guides you over to the hood of the car he had just been working on. "I'll take everything back if you can show me where the engine is."

You stood there for a solid minute, really giving it hard thought. "It's right here." You hold up the middle finger in front of his face before walking away and he laughs taking long strides to catch up to your furious pace.

"Where is my car, anyway?" Jungkook leads you around the back where the completed cars sit with a ticket on the windshield. He watched you excitedly hop into the driver's seat and run your hands over the wheel, then touching the fuzzy orchids that hung from your mirror.

You started it up and she sounded better than ever. You got out and fought the urge to do a little dance but you lost. It was cute, adorable really. "Thank you!" Without even thinking you placed a quick peck on his cheek before you returned to your car, honking at him twice before you sped off.

His fingers lightly grazed the cheek your lips had just met. His vision started to blur, he was about to faint. And then the doom settled in his stomach, you were gone.

"Let's take 5 everyone. Y/n, a minute." The head photographer calls you over. "What's going on? You seem out of it, and you can't be out of it. Not until this shoot is done, at least. I've got bills to pay too."

It's been a few weeks since you'd gotten your car fixed but now everything else felt broken. Suddenly a new outfit didn't put a smile on your face, and the buzz you got from a night out at the bar didn't compare to the flames you felt with the few moments you had with that pretty mechanic.

You shake away the thoughts and apologize, reassuring him that you'd get your head back in the game.

It's been a month.

He hasn't texted you, which isn't crazy considering you gave him your number for repair purposes only. Though it did make you sad to know he ignored the resource he had to contact you. Then again the phone did work both ways.

You were spiralling, just a tad.

Besides, you didn't want to text him, you needed to see him, but you can't just show up to a mechanic for no reason...

You paced around your room until your gaze landed on your car keys.

You shake your head.

No.

That's crazy.

You grab the keys anyway.

After a quick Google search, you concluded that this evening you would be making an impromptu trip to the gas station. Your tank holds about 30 liters so you pumped it with 35.

Once you got back in the car, just as Google said, your check engine light was on. At least this time it wasn't red.

"Oh no, looks like I've gotta get a check-up."

You pulled onto the lot with a mischievous grin, you weren't sure how you were going to pull this off but you had to.

Parking outside the open garage, you locked the car before walking in, looking around for any signs of anyone but it was empty--

"Back so soon?" You turn, face to face with the same face you'd been wanting to see for weeks. "Well yeah, I-"

The loud engine of that familiar tow truck came roaring up the driveway. A loud horn caught your attention. "Come on Jeon, roadside call ain't gonna solve itself!" Scooter shouts and Jungkook visibly gulps, looking between the two of you with a panicked gaze.

"I'm sorry, I have to go. Yoongi is in his office, he can help you."

Your shoulders slumped and your pout was prominent. Let this be the first and last time you ever stuck your neck out for a man.

A few days had passed when Jungkook sent you the invoice for your repairs. Your eyes analyzed the familiar statement of reduction showing that Guardian Auto Insurance saved you another 600 dollars.

You sighed.

You completed the transaction online and made sure to avoid him at all costs when you picked up your car. Unable to face him after he had blown you off. Even though you know it wasn't intentional, it was still humiliating.

The following weeks may not have been anything special for you but were most certainly eventful for Yerin. "I warned you not to dance on top of that bar." You joke as you walk Yerin out of the emergency room with a slight hangover while she has a cast on her left arm.

After driving her back to her place, not a silent ride at that, even on three different pain killers she was still whining about this curb and that curb, 'watch out for that pedestrian' she would yell as if you didn't have eyes.

"How am I supposed to get to work tomorrow." She sulks, resting her cast on a nearby couch cushion. "I can take you." You offer and she glares, "I guess I wasn't clear. I need to make it in one piece." You rolled your eyes.

"I'll just take my car, driving with one hand can't be that hard." She shrugs.

"It's not, but you're not left-handed. It's a bad idea." You warn but she is more stubborn than you are.

It was only around 10 am the following morning when you received a message from Yerin. She attached an image of her car, it looked normal aside from the missing side mirror.

Oh boy.

'I told you so.' You send her and she replies with a middle finger.

'Now it's your turn to go to Wheeley's and make sure to use your guardian auto insurance. Saves a ton.'

She gives you a thumbs up.

Talking about that shop made your mind wander. You wonder how Jungkook was doing. It's been a while since you last saw him. Sometimes you regret not sticking around for him to come back, or even avoiding him to pick up your car.

But maybe this was for the best.

Besides, you were just a customer. One of many. You're sure he's forgotten all about you.

Your phone buzzes once, then twice, pulling you out of the realm of peace and tranquillity that your nap had rolled you into. You'd fallen asleep on the couch while reruns of your favourite movie passed by on your screen. "Hello?"

"Guardian Auto Insurance my ass. I was charged $450. I asked Yoongi to double check and he said apparently that doesn't even exist." Slowly sitting up, you try to make sense of it.

How's that possible? If it doesn't exist then who made it up?-

Oh shit.

You quickly finish the call with Yerin, and check the time. The shop would close in about an hour, you had little time to get ready before you made your way there.

Pulling into the driveway so late at night made your headlights seem like spotlights, bouncing off every reflective surface in sight. Catching Jungkook's attention as he wasn't expecting anyone this late at night.

In his fitted jumpsuit, he watched the car pull up closer to the garage, shining the bright light in his face until the engine was shut off. He'd seen this car hundreds of times. He couldn't get his hopes up, but the second your red bottoms hit the concrete his heart was pounding.

You were headed right towards him.

You looked angry- no, upset, no-

"When were you gonna tell me that there's really no Guardian Auto Insurance and that you've been covering 80% of my costs out of your own pocket?" You definitely sounded angry but your gaze seemed... soft.

You stopped right in front of him, face to face. Your breathing was heavy and your brows furrowed as your eyes danced between both of his deep brown, apologetic ones. "I-"

"Just shut up." Grabbing a gentle hold of his cheeks in your hands, you pulled his lips down to meet yours. It took Jungkook a second to process what was going on but once his brain caught up, so did his hands.

He held you securely at the waist, tugging you into him until your front was against his and he worked his tongue with yours. Your heads tilted slightly to deepen the kiss.

You always knew he'd be a great kisser, but this was taking your breath away. Literally. You pulled away from him, lungs reaching for a much-needed dose of oxygen while Jungkook did the same. His gaze was much darker.

"You and this stupid uniform. I want to finally see what's underneath-" Reaching for his buttons, you're able to get the first four undone with a few stray kisses to his neck that send Jungkook absolutely reeling. A soft moan escapes him before he pulls back.

"Wait. Wait, I have something for you." He disappears into one of the offices before coming back with a bouquet of orchids. Your gasp is genuine.

"Yoongi said a friend of yours was in the shop earlier and I'd already been thinking about you non-stop so I just took it as a sign to reach out. I was actually going to bring these to you later once the shop closed. I noticed you had orchids on your necklace and in your car so I just thought you'd like them." You give them a sniff. "I love them. They were actually my mom's favourite flower before she passed."

He frowns, "I'm sorry to hear that," you give him a sad smile, "Thank you, it means a lot. Really. But we can talk about that later," You place the flowers behind you on the trunk of the car. Jungkook grins.

"You're very direct aren't you." You shrug. "You'll get used to it."

He walks up to you, looking down at you with the six inches his head carried over yours. "Oh, will I?" You nod with unwavering confidence. "Unless you can't handle it-" A big, gentle hand is placed around your neck, no pressure applied until he speaks, "I'm not the one who needs to be worried about."

With that said he slowly sinks himself to his knees, big hands reaching under your ruffled skirt, taking two handfuls of your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. You gasp as you feel him slowly drag a finger along the soaked fabric of your panties.

"Please, Jungkook." The harmonious sound of you begging rattled him to his core. With no self-restraint, he would do anything you asked. "Don't worry princess, I've got you. Gonna take good care of you." he pulls down the only thing keeping him from your soaked cunt and a low growl rumbles in his chest at the sight.

He helps you to step out of your panties with your heels still on, he couldn't let your bare feet touch the floors. You open your hand for the garment but you roll your eyes at the sight of him pocketing them in his uniform. You already know you'll never see them again and you accept it.

He has you bunch up your skirt around your waist for better sight. Smoothly he places one leg over his shoulder while your body rests against the trunk of the car. The grip he holds on your left thigh is tight enough to make your brain spin and surely marks will follow.

"See. I always knew I'd have you on your knees for me one d-AY. Oh fuck!" Jungkook can't be bothered to bark back at you not when he has an insatiable appetite and a full meal right in front of him.

His jaw worked itself as he lapped up at your center. Tongue long and warm, licking every square inch of you until you couldn't take it, hands reaching desperately for his hair and he groaned.

Once he finally had you where he wanted you, reduced to nothing but begs and whimpers, he allowed his tongue to flick over your clit repeatedly, until he felt half of your body weight fall onto his right shoulder for a moment.

You could hardly even keep yourself up. He was going to make sure you remembered this. "Oh shit! P-please Jungkook. M'So close." He groans, his right hand pressing down on the solid bulge in his pants for a little relief.

Your slick was running down his chin, some even down the sides of his neck as he worked you with his tongue. Writhing nonstop, though this wouldn't be an issue if he had a better environment. He'd have you pinned and unable to run from him.

To finish you off he let his teeth graze so lightly over your clit, you almost wouldn't feel it had he not heightened your senses to such an extreme with his intricate pussy eating.

You came with his name falling off your lips.

Your face turns beet red as he tells you to look down at the mess you made on the ground below you. "What were you saying earlier? Something about me being on my knees for you-"

"Just fuck me already." Jungkook stands back up to his full height, clicking his tongue with tsk' sounds. "I pay for your repairs, I buy you flowers, I make you cum and this is how you talk to me? Where are your manners." Jungkook adjusts your skirt so it's back in place and he picks you up to sit on the trunk.

"Besides. I'm not fucking you in here. I wanna take you out first." You smile at that, "Finally, a smile." He remarks, and your body limps forward naturally, your arms wrapping around his neck while your head settles in the crook of his neck and your eyes flutter shut. You ignore his previous statement until he whispers in your ears. "You do realize the garage was open this whole time, and anyone who drove by got a front-row show?" Your eyes shoot open.

#bts #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #bts jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook #btssmuts #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fic recs #dom jungkook #jeon jungkook #btsscenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader

2K notes · View notes

the-cosmic-cauldron · 5 months ago

Text

♡𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕍𝕖𝕟𝕦𝕤 𝕊𝕚𝕘𝕟 & ℙ𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥: ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 ♡

Post-continued in another post.

Welcome to 10 Days, 10 Posts from The Cosmic Cauldron! Over the next ten days, I’ll be sharing a blend of astrology and tarot posts, each designed to spark your curiosity and guide your journey. If you find my content interesting, fascinating, or engaging, be sure to click the follow button for more! Ready to dive deeper into your personal journey? Head to my homepage and book a reading — you won’t regret it.

🅐🅡🅘🅔🅢 🅥🅔🅝🅤🅢

How they love: Aries Venus doesn’t hold back—they go after who they want with confidence and enthusiasm. As excited lovers, they’ll make a move as soon as they feel even the slightest attraction. They’re often the first to develop a crush and will eagerly showcase their best qualities to win you over.

1️⃣🏠

Aries and those influenced by the First House are incredibly energetic. When it comes to love, they seize opportunities and live in the moment. They don’t concern themselves with the details; their sole focus is on pursuing you. What they want from you becomes their main priority, and they are determined to go after it with intensity and passion.

2️⃣🏠

These Aries pursue love with passion and intensity, but they’re looking for a partner to build with. They seek lovers who share their ambition and want to seize opportunities together, particularly financial or material gains. At times, their drive to achieve through relationships might make them seem transactional or like they’re using their partner, but their intentions stem from a desire to build a secure and thriving future.

3️⃣🏠

Talkative and expressive, these Aries are natural chatterboxes who thrive on communication in relationships. They love to hang out, explore, and go places with their partner, constantly wanting to share experiences. They’re the type of lovers who want to “pop out” and showcase their connection, often putting their relationship in the spotlight.

4️⃣🏠

More emotionally intuitive and discerning, these Aries still pursue love with enthusiasm but with higher emotional standards. They value loyalty, stability, kindness, and authenticity in a partner, only pursuing those who align with their emotional needs.Though they maintain the Aries excitement for love, they are more cautious and hesitant when making emotional connections.

5️⃣🏠

These are playful, fun, and romantic lovers who view love as an adventure. They see relationships as vibrant and exciting, often seeking whirlwind romances filled with joy and passion. However, they don’t settle down easily. Only someone who brings unmatched fun and excitement into their life can keep their attention.

6️⃣🏠

Practical and serious about love, these Aries have a checklist for their ideal partner.They are discerning and will only pursue someone who meets their high standards of excellence. They seek perfection in love, refusing to settle for less.

7️⃣🏠

These Aries rush headlong into relationships, often falling deeply in love with someone they barely know. They are romantics at heart, driven by a love for connection and companionship. Their focus is on finding love and maintaining it, even if it means diving in without a second thought.

8️⃣🏠

Intense and controlling, these Aries are passionate lovers with a “my way or the highway” attitude. They are deeply inquisitive about their partner, often uncovering every detail about them to deepen the connection. They bring a raw, sensual energy to relationships, often dominating and leading with their desires.

9️⃣🏠

Adventurous and open-minded, these Aries seek partners who are willing to explore the world and share intellectual pursuits. They are drawn to lovers who can stimulate their minds and match their love for freedom and discovery. They see love as a global experience, constantly seeking growth and excitement.

1️⃣0️⃣🏠

Ambitious and status-driven, these Aries want to “flex” through their relationships.They seek partners who enhance their image and help them display their success and charisma.For them, a relationship is a reflection of their own accomplishments and personal power.

1️⃣1️⃣🏠

Social and free-spirited, these Aries move fluidly between connections, often showing affection to multiple people. They value friendships and social bonds but may struggle with long-term romantic commitment.While they care deeply, their love is often fleeting, as they thrive on variety and new experiences.

1️⃣2️⃣🏠

Reserved and introspective, these Aries have a quieter approach to love.They may struggle to express their feelings, often getting stuck in their thoughts and emotions. Though they feel the Aries energy within, it’s often difficult for them to take action, leaving them longing for connections they can’t always pursue.

🅣🅐🅤🅡🅤🅢 🅥🅔🅝🅤🅢

How they love: Taurus Venus individuals are focused on the practical aspects of life. They express their love through affection, care, and nurturance for those they deeply value. These lovers prioritize consistency and reliability, always striving to show up for their partner. Once they commit, they believe in holding on and staying loyal, dedicated to the relationship for the long haul.

1️⃣🏠

Taurus Venus in the 1st house manifests as an excited and passionate lover. These individuals want to put themselves out there, actively pursuing love and romance. They tend to fall in love quickly because they deeply desire romance in their lives. However, they can get bored easily, so keeping their interest requires more excitement than with a typical Taurus Venus. They seek a partner who is intriguing, confident, bold, and full of energy. They won’t settle for someone who dims their light. Ultimately, they crave a relationship filled with fun, excitement, and longevity.

2️⃣🏠

Taurus Venus in the 2nd house often focuses on material and emotional reciprocity in relationships. These individuals can be seen as “gold diggers” or “sugar babies,” valuing a partner who helps them “level up” in life. They give as much love as they receive, basing their efforts on what their partner provides. Generosity is key to winning their affection, but if their needs aren’t met, they can be quite reserved. They thrive in relationships that provide stability, luxury, and mutual support.

3️⃣🏠

Taurus Venus in the 3rd house tends to be a smooth talker with grand ideas about love. They often promise the world but struggle to deliver on their words. Their charm lies in their ability to captivate others with their communication skills, reeling people in with sweet talk and promises. However, they may lack the follow-through needed to build a stable relationship, leaving their partners feeling disillusioned.

4️⃣🏠

Taurus Venus in the 4th house seeks comfort and security. These individuals prefer staying home with their partner, enjoying cozy nights, and nurturing love in a domestic setting. They can be possessive, wanting their partner close and prioritizing private moments over social outings. While they create a safe and loving environment, they might unintentionally isolate their partner from others in their life.

5️⃣🏠

Taurus Venus in the 5th house thrives on romance and fun. These individuals love the idea of a “movie-style” relationship, filled with grand gestures and luxurious experiences. They are the type to spoil their partner with gifts, plan extravagant trips, or create special moments, such as romantic getaways. They value passion and excitement in love, prioritizing enjoyment and indulgence.

6️⃣🏠

Taurus Venus in the 6th house holds high standards for love and moves slowly in relationships. These individuals take their time committing, often needing years to fully dedicate themselves to a partner. While they are deliberate and cautious, they can be surprisingly physical and passionate early in relationships. Once committed, their standards for their partner only rise, making them demanding yet loyal lovers.

7️⃣🏠

Taurus Venus in the 7th house is deeply committed to finding their soulmate. They view love as a profound partnership and take relationships very seriously. Cheating or disloyalty is not on their radar—they’re all about finding their other half and locking in for life. They prioritize balance, harmony, and mutual devotion in love, striving for a relationship that feels complete and destined.

8️⃣🏠

Taurus Venus in the 8th house exudes an intense and controlling love energy. These individuals demand vulnerability from their partners but often struggle to reciprocate emotionally. They can be solid and dependable, but their guarded nature makes them difficult to read. Their love can be all-consuming and possessive, seeking to isolate their partner from outside influences to ensure loyalty and intimacy.

9️⃣🏠

Taurus Venus in the 9th house seeks a partner who adds excitement and growth to their life. They value intellectual and spiritual connection, looking for someone who can share in adventures, explore new philosophies, and create a fulfilling life together. They are drawn to partners who bring joy and freedom while enhancing their personal journey.

1️⃣0️⃣🏠

Taurus Venus in the 10th house focuses on building a relationship rooted in success and material wealth. These individuals prioritize status, achievement, and financial security over emotional depth. They’re more transactional than sentimental, emphasizing shared goals and accomplishments in love. They are excellent partners for building empires but may shy away from diving into deep emotional waters.

1️⃣1️⃣🏠

Taurus Venus in the 11th house is the nurturing and supportive friend-lover. They often act as the “parent” of their social circle, always ready to help or provide. While generous and giving, they maintain a sense of independence and value freedom in their relationships. They enjoy exploring sensuality and connections with different people, blending friendship with romance in their unique way.

1️⃣2️⃣🏠

Taurus Venus in the 12th house struggles with expressing their love. These individuals may feel lost in their romantic pursuits, often unsure of how to channel their Taurus qualities. They crave affection and connection but lack clarity about what they want in a partner or how to give and receive love effectively. Their journey in love involves learning to express themselves and embrace their vulnerability.

🅖🅔🅜🅘🅝🅘 🅥🅔🅝🅤🅢

How they love: Gemini Venus is a lover who thrives on versatility and finds joy through creativity. They enjoy communicating, getting to know their partner, and exploring new experiences together. Their curiosity drives them to deeply engage with the person they are passionate about or feel affection for.

1️⃣🏠

Gemini in the First House is very curious when it comes to love. These individuals are fascinated by almost everything and everyone. They’re adventurous and open to trying new experiences. Their perspective on love is rooted in curiosity—they want to understand people deeply, see how they live, and get inside their minds. Lovers with this placement need a strong mental connection. They’re likely to pursue their love interests passionately, showing intense interest and focus.

2️⃣🏠

Gemini in the Second House aligns their curiosity in relationships with a focus on achieving their dreams. They often look for a partner who can help them expand their ideas and execute plans they’ve curated in their minds. These individuals approach love almost like a business arrangement, seeking someone who supports their ambitions and shares their vision.

4️⃣🏠

Gemini in the Fourth House craves stimulation but can be hot and cold. They might pursue someone with great enthusiasm, driven by curiosity, only to pull away if the connection lacks depth. They prioritize mental resonance in relationships and may retreat when it’s absent. However, they often stay in touch out of lingering curiosity, maintaining a platonic or alternative connection if romantic interest fades.

5️⃣🏠

Gemini in the Fifth House is playful, fun-loving, and sociable. They are drawn to unique individuals, particularly creatives, entertainers, or artists. They dislike traditional or routine lifestyles and prefer people with eccentric, innovative qualities. Love for them is about excitement and experiencing something different, so they pursue partners who bring vibrancy and creativity into their lives.

6️⃣🏠

Gemini in the Sixth House seeks intellectual stimulation and perfection in relationships. These individuals value smart, communicative partners who can engage with them as equals. Relationships with this placement often resemble deep friendships, as they are looking for someone who can share their day-to-day life while offering mental intrigue.

7️⃣🏠

Gemini in the Seventh House tends to move through many relationships due to their insatiable curiosity about people. They often find fascination in new connections, leading to frequent changes in partners. While they are enthusiastic in the beginning, they can become detached and shift their focus to others. This placement can indicate someone who enjoys the thrill of connection more than the depth of commitment.

8️⃣🏠

Gemini in the Eighth House is intense, curious, and deeply attached in relationships. Initially, they might seem playful and carefree, but over time they develop a controlling side, wanting their partner’s full attention. They often take on a therapist-like role, analyzing their partner and attempting to influence their behavior. Their love can feel overwhelming yet transformative for both parties.

9️⃣🏠

Gemini in the Ninth House seeks adventure and variety in love. These individuals thrive on experiences and often form short-term connections while traveling or exploring new environments. They value the thrill of new relationships over emotional depth and rarely take love too seriously, preferring to focus on the joy of the moment.

1️⃣0️⃣🏠

Gemini in the Tenth House views relationships as opportunities for collaboration and shared ambition. They seek partners who can help them build a legacy, whether through creative projects, businesses, or other ventures. They are drawn to driven individuals who can bring their ideas to life and help them achieve their goals.

1️⃣1️⃣🏠

Gemini in the Eleventh House is a social butterfly, thriving on connections with diverse groups of people. They blur the lines between friendship and romance, often engaging in unconventional or casual relationships. They live by their own rules in love, embracing freedom and spontaneity while avoiding traditional boundaries.

1️⃣2️⃣🏠

Gemini in the Twelfth House is often confused or conflicted about love. They feel curious and drawn to others but may struggle to express their feelings or communicate effectively. This can result in behaviors like ghosting or being hot and cold. Internally, they might experience a whirlwind of emotions, but externally, their actions seem disconnected or unclear.

🅒🅐🅝🅒🅔🅡 🅥🅔🅝🅤🅢

How they love: Cancer Venus individuals are deeply romantic. They value emotional connections and strive to bond with their partners on a profound level. They crave warmth, affection, and, above all, the feeling of being truly understood. Intimacy is very important to them, and they approach romance with seriousness and dedication, holding it as a core value in their lives.

1️⃣🏠

Cancer Venus in the First House individuals are bold lovers. They bring excitement and energy to their relationships and are not afraid to pursue love actively. For them, love is all about passion, sparks, and truly feeling a deep connection. They want a love that’s unforgettable—a connection that lights them up and stays with them forever. Mediocre love or passive partners won’t do. They prefer someone who asserts themselves and pursues them with enthusiasm.

2️⃣🏠

Cancer Venus in the Second House people are grounded and value stability in relationships. They seek a solid foundation and have no patience for games. They prioritize trust and want a partner committed to the long haul. For them, love is about building a lifetime partnership, rooted in shared values and loyalty. These individuals cannot align with someone who doesn’t respect their values, which are incredibly important to them. Long-term devotion and security are their ultimate goals.

3️⃣🏠

Cancer Venus in the Third House loves to talk about love. They are expressive and seek a partner who shares this quality. Emotional conversations and deep connections are key to their relationships. They want someone they can feel comfortable with wherever they go—a “safe person” who becomes their haven. Reciprocity in communication is vital, and they thrive with a partner who is open, expressive, and emotionally available.

4️⃣🏠

Cancer Venus in the Fourth House individuals are homebodies who value privacy in their relationships. They seek someone who allows them to open up fully and feel secure. For them, love feels like family—warm, protective, and intimate. These lovers prefer a laid-back, relaxed connection and enjoy staying in, where they can form a deep bond. They prioritize emotional depth and stability over outward displays of affection.

5️⃣🏠

Cancer Venus in the Fifth House individuals bring passion and creativity to their love lives. They seek exciting, joyful relationships filled with fun and adventure. They thrive on balancing time spent at home—baking, cooking, and relaxing—with exploring new activities outside. These lovers are artistic and playful, radiating positive energy and making their relationships feel vibrant and fulfilling.

6️⃣🏠

Cancer Venus in the Sixth House individuals are serious about love. They have high standards and need a partner who provides security and meets their expectations. Trust takes time to build with them, as they are selective and cautious in their approach to relationships. Once committed, they are loyal and dedicated. Letting someone into their life is a significant decision, as it signals they see long-term potential.

7️⃣🏠

Cancer Venus in the Seventh House individuals are quintessential romantics. They adore love in all its forms and often fall deeply in love. Relationships mean everything to them, but they can become overly absorbed in their partner, sometimes losing their sense of self. They thrive on companionship and can easily blend their identity with their partner, making balance and independence important for their growth.

8️⃣🏠

Cancer Venus in the Eighth House individuals are private and reserved in love. They take time to trust and open up, often guarding their emotions fiercely. Vulnerability is difficult for them, and they may appear defensive or distant until they feel completely secure. Once trust is established, they commit deeply, but until then, they can be unpredictable and protective of their inner world.

9️⃣🏠

Cancer Venus in the Ninth House blends emotional depth with intellectual curiosity. They desire an emotionally rich connection but also want to explore life’s grand questions with their partner. These individuals love discussing philosophical and spiritual topics and are equally comfortable at home or traveling to new places. Their ideal partner provides both comfort and adventure, creating a harmonious balance.

1️⃣0️⃣🏠

Cancer Venus in the Tenth House prioritizes stability and security in relationships. They seek a partner who can provide a solid foundation—someone responsible and dependable. While they value emotional connections, they focus more on practical aspects like creating a stable home and financial security. They gravitate toward partners who offer reliability and a sense of structure in their lives.

1️⃣1️⃣🏠

Cancer Venus in the Eleventh House individuals are nurturing and loving but may overextend themselves in their friendships. As the “parent friend” of their group, they often prioritize others’ needs, which can lead to emotional burnout. In relationships, their focus may shift between their partner and their social circle, making balance a challenge. They often crave unconventional partnerships that complement their dynamic and multifaceted life.

1️⃣2️⃣🏠

Cancer Venus in the Twelfth House individuals can be mysterious and emotionally guarded. They desire warmth, affection, and romance but struggle to express these needs openly. They may idealize love and dream of the perfect romance, yet hesitate to pursue it actively. This can create blurred lines and indifference in their approach to relationships. These individuals must learn to embrace vulnerability and assert their desires for love and connection.

🅛🅔🅞 🅥🅔🅝🅤🅢

How they love: Leo Venuses are warm, affectionate, lively, and enthusiastic lovers. They have a deep passion for romance and an undeniable love for love itself. Everything about love excites them and fills them with joy.

1️⃣🏠

Leo Venus in the First House is bold and energetic in love. They actively pursue romance because they love the idea of being in love. These individuals are initiators, starting conversations and interactions with ease. Once in a partnership, they are deeply devoted and prioritize loyalty, both from themselves and their partner. Loyalty and commitment are the foundation of their relationships, and they hold high standards for both parties.

2️⃣🏠

Leo Venus in the Second House is possessive and passionate. When they want someone, they go all in. Their jealousy can arise quickly, as they want exclusive attention from their partner. They value stability in relationships and seek long-term connections. However, their intense emotions can sometimes lead to controlling tendencies. They love deeply and are fully committed once they connect with someone, striving for a lasting bond.

3️⃣🏠

Leo Venus in the Third House is a natural flirt. They charm others with their words and can effortlessly boost their partner’s confidence. These lovers are communicative, engaging, and enjoy showing off their significant other. They thrive on spending quality time together and create relationships filled with playful banter and constant connection. Their way with words makes them unforgettable.

4️⃣🏠

Leo Venus in the Fourth House is a sentimental and cozy lover. They are deeply passionate yet possessive, often wanting their partner to themselves. They focus on building a life together and creating a warm, nurturing environment. These lovers prioritize their partner’s comfort and enjoy giving gifts as expressions of affection. While they value security, they may also exhibit controlling tendencies regarding their partner’s social interactions.

5️⃣🏠

Leo Venus in the Fifth House views love as a fun and thrilling adventure. They crave excitement, passion, and spontaneity in relationships. They dive headfirst into love, seeking laughter, intimacy, and shared experiences. However, they can become easily bored if the relationship lacks excitement. These lovers prioritize fun and joy, making them dynamic partners who thrive on keeping things lively.

6️⃣🏠

Leo Venus in the Sixth House has high standards and expects perfection in love. They need their partner to adore and praise them, often wanting to feel like the center of their world. These individuals can be perfectionists, expecting their partner to look good, be intelligent, and remain loyal. They often wait for their partner to make the first move, as pride can prevent them from openly expressing their feelings early on.

7️⃣🏠

Leo Venus in the Seventh House is the quintessential romantic. They dream of love that mirrors fairy tales or romantic movies, desiring both deep commitment and playful fun. They seek long-term partnerships filled with passion, mutual respect, and affection. Marriage, loyalty, and partnership are paramount to them, and they refuse to settle for anything mediocre in love.

8️⃣🏠

Leo Venus in the Eighth House desires intense, deep connections. They need to trust and feel a strong bond with their partner before committing fully. These lovers value emotional vulnerability and expect their partner to have something meaningful to offer. Control issues can arise, as they prefer to maintain a sense of power in their relationships. They demand depth and loyalty, and superficial connections won’t satisfy them.

9️⃣🏠

Leo Venus in the Ninth House is adventurous, optimistic, and open-minded in love. They enjoy sharing beliefs and exploring new experiences with their partner. These lovers thrive on excitement, philosophical discussions, and traveling together. However, they prefer partners who align with their values and ideas, as conflicting beliefs can create tension. They bring warmth, affection, and a sense of wonder to their relationships.

1️⃣0️⃣🏠

Leo Venus in the Tenth House values stability, success, and shared ambition in love. They are drawn to partners who can provide security and help them build a life of wealth and achievement. These individuals often take on a leadership role in the relationship and expect their partner to contribute equally. They view their partnerships as a reflection of their status and success.

1️⃣1️⃣🏠

Leo Venus in the Eleventh House is sociable and unconventional in love. They thrive on connecting with unique individuals and building relationships based on mutual understanding. These lovers are friendly, open, and enjoy a variety of social interactions. While they value commitment, they may struggle to fully commit due to their wide social network and busy lifestyle. They need a partner who understands their dynamic and multifaceted nature.

1️⃣2️⃣🏠

Leo Venus in the Twelfth House is romantic, idealistic, and deeply emotional. They long for profound love and intimacy but often struggle to express their desires openly. These lovers may feel blocked or passive in relationships, finding it challenging to pursue affection in the way they truly want. Despite their struggles, their inner warmth and capacity for deep love make them highly compassionate and empathetic partners.

🅥🅘🅡🅖🅞 🅥🅔🅝🅤🅢

How they love: Virgo Venus individuals are practical lovers who prioritize giving and nurturing in relationships. They offer themselves wholeheartedly, viewing love as a foundation for stability, security, and longevity. These lovers immerse themselves deeply into the experience, seeking to learn, grow, and build meaningful connections.

1️⃣🏠

Virgo Venus in the 1st house creates an interesting dynamic. Initially, these individuals leap into romantic pursuits with enthusiasm and excitement. They come across as eager and passionate, which can be thrilling for potential partners. However, as the relationship progresses, their Virgo traits emerge—they pull back, become more reserved, and display a need for order and structure. They may categorize people and situations meticulously, wanting things to align with their expectations. This sudden shift can make them seem inconsistent, leading some to perceive them as love-bombers, as they start hot and heavy but later withdraw once their Virgo tendencies take over.

2️⃣🏠

Virgo Venus in the 2nd house is stubborn and controlling. These individuals value security and stability in love and seek a partner who aligns with their strong personal values. They resist external influences or partners trying to impose their ideals. If their values aren’t matched, they become reserved, uptight, and unwilling to open up. They are intentional about their choices in love but can be challenging due to their control issues and insistence on things being their way.

3️⃣🏠

With Virgo Venus in the 3rd house, communication is paramount. These individuals are talkative and thrive on intellectual stimulation. They need a partner who can engage them mentally and keep up with their rapid thoughts. Emotional depth may not be as critical as intellectual synergy, and they often seek a connection that feels like a “mental orgasm.” They desire synchronicity with their partner, ensuring that both are on the same page in their endeavors.

4️⃣🏠

Virgo Venus in the 4th house fosters a calm and cozy connection. These individuals are deeply sentimental, nurturing, and giving to the point of self-sacrifice. They create a warm, homely atmosphere in relationships and are intentional lovers. However, trust and a genuine connection take time to build, as they are cautious about committing to someone they don’t fully trust or feel aligned with.

5️⃣🏠

Virgo Venus in the 5th house brings a fun and playful energy to love. These individuals are adventurous, creative, and know how to make relationships exciting. However, beneath the fun lies a serious side—they have high standards and won’t hesitate to end a relationship if their partner doesn’t meet their expectations. They may surprise partners with their abrupt shifts, as they balance their playful nature with a deep need for seriousness and alignment in love.

6️⃣🏠

Virgo Venus in the 6th house can appear cold or detached, as they focus more on service and practicality than romance. They give generously, often acting as a helper or caregiver in their relationships, but their actions stem more from a sense of duty than deep emotional connection. They prioritize building a strong foundation, and while they may not fall deeply in love, they create stability and reliability in their relationships.

7️⃣🏠

Virgo Venus in the 7th house seeks perfection in love. These individuals are highly selective and may even consult matchmakers to find their ideal partner. They have high standards and won’t settle for anyone who doesn’t meet their criteria. While they may seem hard to please, when they do commit, they are deeply loyal and intentional, having thoroughly vetted their partner.

8️⃣🏠

Virgo Venus in the 8th house is private, guarded, and slow to open up. They crave control in relationships and are hesitant to express vulnerability. Trust must be earned, and they reveal their emotions in small, controlled doses. Their need for control can create distance, and partners may find it challenging to break through their emotional walls.

9️⃣🏠

Virgo Venus in the 9th house is adventurous and intellectual. These individuals dream of exploring the world with their partner and often have their ideal life and adventures pre-planned. They love deep, philosophical conversations and value a partner who can engage them intellectually and share their vision of life. While they are open-minded, they are particular about what they share and how they engage in conversations.

1️⃣0️⃣🏠

Virgo Venus in the 10th house often finds love through work or professional connections. These individuals are focused on career and personal goals, leaving little time for romantic pursuits. They value a partner who aligns with their professional image and ambitions, making them selective about a partner’s job, income, and public persona.

1️⃣1️⃣🏠

Virgo Venus in the 11th house prioritizes friendships over romantic relationships. These individuals are introverted and prefer meaningful connections over casual relationships. They may take a long time to find a romantic partner, often forming bonds with people they already know through friends or colleagues. Their focus is on camaraderie and shared goals rather than passionate romance.

1️⃣2️⃣🏠

Virgo Venus in the 12th house is confused and conflicted in love. They crave perfection but struggle to build stable, fulfilling relationships. They often attract chaotic or disorganized partners who drain their energy. Their giving nature makes them susceptible to being taken advantage of, and they may find themselves repeatedly drawn to relationships that lack balance and stability.

🅛🅘🅑🅡🅐 🅥🅔🅝🅤🅢

How they love: Libra in Venus is all about forming deep mental connections with others. They are natural romantics who thrive on meaningful partnerships and feel truly fulfilled when in a relationship. Having someone by their side gives them a sense of completeness and balance. Partnerships hold significant importance to them, not just emotionally but also as a way to build a shared future. They value a partner who can align with their goals, help them start new ventures, or support them in completing things they couldn’t accomplish on their own while single.

1️⃣🏠

These individuals are highly enthusiastic and headstrong about love. They dive into romance with excitement and passion, needing to be constantly stimulated. They dislike boredom and are drawn to partners who captivate them mentally and emotionally, keeping them engaged. They crave relationships that give them a reason to stay committed and love a partner who brings excitement and fun into their lives.

2️⃣🏠

These individuals are deeply possessive and prioritize their partners highly. They want their partner to align with their lifestyle and values, but they may allow someone into their life even if they don’t initially align, simply because they want the relationship. They tend to build their life around their partner and are focused on creating a life together based on their personal vision. They can be jealous but are devoted to building a solid connection.

3️⃣🏠

This placement makes individuals highly communicative and mentally driven in relationships. They enjoy deep conversations and form connections through consistent communication. Leisurely activities, entertainment, and fun play a big role in their relationships, and they measure the strength of their bonds through shared enjoyment. They are drawn to partners who keep things interesting and stimulating.

4️⃣🏠

These individuals exude cozy and nurturing energy. They are sentimental, aesthetic, and grounded, valuing emotional connection and intellectual stimulation. They provide a balance of empathetic listening and active presence, making their partners feel both intellectually engaged and emotionally cared for. Their love is rooted in creating a comforting, intimate home life.

5️⃣🏠

Romance for these individuals is centered around fun, creativity, and entertainment. They love going out with their partner, exploring new places, and trying creative activities. They get bored easily and thrive in relationships that are dynamic and exciting. They enjoy starting creative projects with their partner and value the joy of shared experiences.

6️⃣🏠

This placement can make individuals more reserved and analytical in love. They may struggle to show affection openly and sometimes enter relationships out of a sense of duty or fear of being alone. They can be nitpicky with their partner but have a kind and giving heart. They tend to overthink relationships, sometimes focusing more on practicalities than emotions.

7️⃣🏠

These are ultimate romantics who thrive in committed partnerships. They often seek marriage or serious relationships early in life and dislike being single. Serial daters, they constantly seek love and enjoy being in the public eye with their partner. They adore gifts and grand romantic gestures, valuing relationships that make them feel cherished and adored.

8️⃣🏠

Love is intense and complex for these individuals. They can be deeply controlling and protective of their partners, often fearing vulnerability and rejection. While they form strong attachments, they may struggle to express their emotions openly, leading to a push-pull dynamic. Developing trust and balancing emotional vulnerability with romantic expression is a lifelong journey for them.

9️⃣🏠

This placement creates a love for adventure and intellectual exploration. These individuals seek partners who share their zest for travel, debate, and learning. Life feels more fulfilling with a partner by their side, and they thrive on experiences shared with someone special. They love discussing ideas, exploring the world, and creating lasting memories with their partner.

1️⃣0️⃣🏠

These individuals are often focused on superficial aspects of relationships, such as appearance, fashion, and social status. They are drawn to partners who meet their ideal image and may start conversations or relationships based on attraction to someone’s looks or success. While mental connections matter, their initial focus is often on external qualities.

1️⃣1️⃣🏠

Friendship plays a significant role in their love life. These individuals thrive in social settings and often blur the lines between friends and romantic partners. They struggle with commitment due to indecisiveness and the abundance of social connections. They are highly social, rarely alone, and may explore relationships through online dating or social circles.

1️⃣2️⃣🏠

Romance for these individuals is often confusing and elusive. They may struggle to understand their desires or express their romantic and social sides. The hazy energy of the 12th house makes it challenging to pursue love clearly, leading to feelings of uncertainty or disconnection in relationships. Self-awareness and introspection can help them navigate their romantic path.

🅢🅒🅞🅡🅟🅘🅞 🅥🅔🅝🅤🅢

How they love: Inward-looking and desiring a connection that allows them to be both vulnerable and expressive, these individuals are persistent in love and determined to have things their way.

1️⃣🏠

Very bold and passionate lovers. These individuals come across as strong, magnetic, and charismatic. However, when you get closer to them, you might be shocked. They tend to pull back and avoid vulnerability. While they want you, they hold back a lot when it comes to love and pursuing you. They’ll want you to stick around while they unfold and build trust, but they struggle with trust issues. If they feel like you’re probing too much, they can quickly distance themselves.

2️⃣🏠

These people can be extremely possessive and controlling. When they have their eyes on you, they want you — and they want to claim you. They might objectify those they’re interested in, believing you belong to them. They deeply value loyalty, but this can turn unhealthy and toxic, as they demand extreme loyalty. They may become so focused on building their relationship or getting what they want from their partner that they overlook other important aspects of the relationship.

3️⃣🏠

More talkative and expressive, these individuals often share their intellectual ideas and engage in daily chatter. However, they aren’t typically deep conversationalists. While they may gossip and chat with you, they keep many things hidden. They are secretive about themselves and may expect certain things from you without fully explaining why. Their approach to love is scattered, and they have a hard time knowing how to truly engage with it.

4️⃣🏠

Very private and closed off, these individuals take a long time to fall in love or find love. They value their privacy and prefer being around people who feel familiar and comforting. They focus more on how you feel about them than their own feelings. Trust is a big issue for them, and it takes them time to trust enough to commit.

5️⃣🏠

Fun-loving and carefree, these individuals view love as a playground. They enjoy having fun in relationships, but if you’re involved with them long-term, you’ll notice how possessive they can be. They have difficulty opening up, and even though they enjoy having fun, they put up walls when it comes to expressing their true feelings or talking about deeper topics. They often engage in superficial or surface-level relationships, trying to meet their needs without forming deep attachments.

6️⃣🏠

Private and focused on other areas of life, these people don’t prioritize love. They seek a partner they can trust, but they’re drawn to detached relationships. They want someone who can be there for them when needed, but not overly involved in the emotional or passionate side of the relationship. They are prone to one-sided relationships and can attract people who take advantage of them.

7️⃣🏠

These individuals seek early commitment and desire a romantic relationship. Once they commit, they’re very loyal, but it’s difficult for them to move on after a serious breakup. Healing takes time, and they hold on to past relationships for longer than they should. They find it challenging to move forward after ending a commitment.

8️⃣🏠

Extremely deep and sensitive, these individuals are hard to get close to. They have trust issues and avoid vulnerability. They prefer to maintain control in the relationship and dislike shifting power to their partner. They don’t actively pursue others; instead, they want people to come to them. When they do love, they love deeply and expect a lot of loyalty, but they can become toxic and passive-aggressive. Their sexual energy is strong, and they can quickly build resentment in the relationship.

9️⃣🏠

Philosophical and introspective, these individuals seek partnerships that help them grow and transform. They’re drawn to unique people who embrace their dark side. Intellectual stimulation is key for them; they value a partner’s life philosophy and beliefs more than their appearance. These individuals are interested in a deep emotional connection rather than superficial attractions.

1️⃣0️⃣🏠

Focused on power and influence, these individuals like to have control in relationships. They seek a partner who submits to them, bending to their will. They’re often drawn to relationships that enhance their public image and may prioritize finding someone who boosts their status. This placement can lead to controlling tendencies and power struggles within relationships.

1️⃣1️⃣🏠

These individuals form deep connections with many people, but they are also quite sneaky. They have trust issues and are often unsure of themselves. They tend to do things secretly and are good at maintaining loyalty with friends, but they can be all over the place when it comes to romantic relationships. Loyalty is not always their strength, but they still expect it from others. They may struggle with inconsistency and double standards.

1️⃣2️⃣🏠

This is a confused and malefic placement. These individuals desire romance and a deep connection but often feel isolated and distant. They struggle to express their feelings and may appear cold or uninterested, even though they long for nurturing and closeness. This internal conflict makes it difficult for them to fully engage in a relationship or express the romance they crave.

🅢🅐🅖🅘🅣🅣🅐🅡🅘🅤🅢 🅥🅔🅝🅤🅢

How they love: Sagittarius Venus individuals express their love for life through their relationships. They value freedom and have an insatiable desire to explore as much as possible. Constantly seeking stimulation and new learning experiences, they are the type of lovers who are always on the go and eager to try something new. Embracing life and its authenticity is a top priority for them, as they thrive on engaging in genuine, authentic connections that fulfill their craving for fun and adventure.

1️⃣🏠

These individuals are bold, passionate, and all-consuming when it comes to love. They act instinctively, rarely thinking before they make a move. They pursue what they want and crave freedom. They enjoy having space and distance from the person they’re with, or the person they like. However, when they desire someone, they want them completely. When they’re affectionate, they’re fully engaged. But when they’re not, they’re occupied elsewhere. They constantly need to be stimulated.

2️⃣🏠

These individuals are possessive but also desire freedom for themselves, although they may not offer the same freedom to their partner. They appreciate a certain level of detachment in relationships to explore life’s possibilities but simultaneously want to keep their partner close. They’re drawn to partners who give them space yet remain loyal. They enjoy the dynamic of having both freedom and commitment in their relationship.

3️⃣🏠

People with this placement love spending time with those they like, particularly their crushes. Love, for them, is an adventure that includes intellectual stimulation through deep conversations and exploring new places together. They enjoy the dynamic of best friends who can share exciting experiences and have fun conversations. This type of person thrives on connecting and exploring the world with their partner.

4️⃣🏠

Homebodies at heart, these individuals enjoy being at home when single. However, in a relationship, they seek balance and excitement. They combine nurturing energy with a sense of adventure, enjoying both staying in and going out to experience new things. They’re optimistic, positive, and comforting to their partner, but they also need space and time to relax and recharge.

5️⃣🏠

These individuals are all about fun, love, and playfulness. Curious and open-minded, they enjoy trying new things, meeting new people, and exploring new places. They’re excited by variety and adventure, especially in their romantic relationships. Intimacy for them is passionate and fast-paced, and they can easily move on from partners, always excited for the next adventure.

6️⃣🏠

This placement brings some routine to the spontaneous energy of Sagittarius. These individuals seek a partner who excites them but also provides stability and loyalty. While they love to pursue excitement and fun in romance, they need a solid partner who is consistent, hygienic, and healthy. They expect their partner to be reliable, balanced, and able to keep up with their fluctuating energy.

7️⃣🏠

These individuals are quick to commit and very excited about love. They’re willing to make commitments on a whim, often without overthinking. They can commit quickly, even in just a few weeks, and ride that wave of excitement until it fades. Once the relationship ends, they’ll move on just as quickly, seeking their next romantic adventure.

8️⃣🏠

Profound thinkers, these individuals connect on an intellectual level and enjoy deep, mentally stimulating conversations. They’re drawn to partners who are emotionally available, deep, and interesting. However, they also need space to maintain their own freedom and autonomy. They seek partners who offer both emotional depth and the freedom to live independently.

9️⃣🏠

Free-spirited and independent, these individuals resist being tied down by love. They love having crushes and find people to be adventures worth exploring, but they dislike commitment. They need space and hate control, thriving in relationships that allow them freedom and flexibility. If their partner offers space, they may commit, but if not, they’re likely to move on quickly.

1️⃣0️⃣🏠

These individuals are goal-oriented and often attracted to partners who are successful, particularly those with financial stability. They associate money with freedom and seek a partner who can provide the financial security that allows them to enjoy life—traveling, learning, and pursuing other passions. They want a solid, successful partner who can give them the freedom to live an abundant life.

1️⃣1️⃣🏠

Great friends, these individuals are honest and real, offering new ideas and perspectives. They enjoy unconventional relationships and may have been in many relationships, but few have worked out. They prefer relationships that challenge tradition and are open to experiences others might shy away from. They value freedom and change in both life and relationships, disliking the feeling of being tied down.

1️⃣2️⃣

These individuals may struggle in committed relationships because they feel suffocated or bogged down. They often attract partners who don’t align with their need for freedom, making it difficult for them to express affection or assert their desires for exploration. These individuals may end up in monogamous, committed relationships that don’t allow them the space they need, often without realizing how important this freedom truly is.

🅒🅐🅟🅡🅘🅒🅞🅡🅝 🅥🅔🅝🅤🅢

How they love: Practical, devoted, and in it for the long haul, they are willing to handle relationships in ways that others may not. They are prepared to do the difficult work necessary to maintain a relationship. Loyal to a fault, they are also very giving to those they love.

1️⃣🏠

These individuals are bold lovers with a strong presence. They come on strong and assert themselves, often with a “my way or the highway” mentality. They don’t have time for games and are very practical when it comes to love. Though not necessarily romantic, they get excited about someone they like and put in the effort to pursue them. They enjoy the challenge of earning their partner and prefer to invest in someone who is worth their time.

2️⃣🏠

Incredibly possessive, these people may not even want a relationship until they reach a certain level of success or stability. Once they’ve achieved their goals, they seek a partner who matches their energy and work ethic. They can be controlling, wanting their partner all to themselves and expecting reciprocation in both values and life goals.

3️⃣🏠

These Capricorns are fun and enjoy connecting on a deeper level. They love to share their life stories and learn about their partner’s experiences. They appreciate chill vibes and enjoy conversing about goals, dreams, and aspirations. When in a relationship, they like to plan their future with their partner and integrate them into their life.

4️⃣🏠

Reserved and private, these individuals don’t actively seek love but expect others to approach them. Earning their trust takes time, and they’re selective about who they let in emotionally. Proving loyalty and earning their investment is key. They value the opinions of their family and friends, and if you don’t pass the vibe check with them, you’re not getting in.

5️⃣🏠

This is the fun-loving Capricorn who enjoys having a good time and hooking up with different people. While they may have fun, they’re not likely to take anyone seriously unless you can match their energy and fit into their life beyond just having fun. They take commitment seriously and only enter relationships when they feel someone is a good fit for their long-term plans.

6️⃣🏠

Serious about love, these individuals have high expectations. They need a partner who is successful, healthy, clean, and well-presented. They’re not interested in anyone who doesn’t meet these standards, and they can be very critical. These individuals often remain single for long periods due to their exacting standards.

7️⃣🏠

These people take marriage seriously. They may marry early if they find someone who truly resonates with them, or they may marry later, waiting for someone who meets their high standards. They are romantic and want to give their all to a partner they feel truly deserves their love.

8️⃣🏠

Deep and intense, these individuals carry heavy energy around love, often due to past hurts or negative experiences in relationships. They may have a pessimistic view of love but still have strong sexual needs. Trust and emotional security are essential for them to commit, and they need a partner who can match their energy and keep their trust.

9️⃣🏠

These individuals work hard and want a partner with whom they can share the fruits of their labor. They seek someone who aligns with their values, is interested in learning, and enjoys traveling. They want a partner who is intellectually compatible and shares their long-term goals.

1️⃣0️⃣🏠

For these individuals, relationships can be somewhat superficial, driven by the image of success they want to project. They look for a partner who can match their wealth and status, and the relationship often serves as an extension of their achievements. Depth and emotional connection are secondary to the image they wish to create.

1️⃣1️⃣🏠

Capricorns in this house are dependable and reliable, with many people who rely on them. However, when it comes to love, they can be unconventional and resist traditional commitment. They may have a hard time settling down and often prefer non-monogamous arrangements or casual relationships, finding it difficult to fully commit.

1️⃣2️⃣🏠

These individuals may find it challenging to truly connect with love. There’s a sense of distance, and they may feel used or as though their energy isn’t reciprocated. They often dream of romance but struggle to make it a reality. They may not fully understand how to express their love, and it can be difficult for them to find a partner who meets their needs in a practical way.

🅐🅠🅤🅐🅡🅘🅤🅢 🅥🅔🅝🅤🅢

How they love: Eccentric, unusual, and walking their own unique path, these individuals enjoy love on their own terms—free and intellectually stimulating. When it comes to love, Aquarius Venus operates in a realm of their own, and if you’ve ever encountered one, you’ll understand that they have a distinct and unconventional perspective on relationships.

1️⃣🏠

Aquarius Venus in the 1st house is bold and eccentric. They are different, and their approach to relationships is unique. They put themselves out there without hesitation and don’t mind doing so. They are straightforward and honest, simply wanting to get to know people and have fun. They tend to take relationships lightly, seeking intellectual stimulation and conversation, but always desiring freedom and space. They aren’t consumed by the relationship and are comfortable exploring a connection without feeling tied down, saying, “Let’s see where it goes.”

2️⃣🏠

Aquarius Venus in the 2nd house can be quite stubborn. When they like you, they like you deeply and are very committed to you, often acting possessive and clinging to your presence. However, they are equally stubborn about their beliefs and values. If you don’t align with them, you will quickly be cut off. They need their partner to share the same values and beliefs, or they will feel the need to constantly debate you, which they find exhausting. They prefer talking about their ideals, not debating them.

3️⃣🏠

Aquarius Venus in the 3rd house is a chatterbox. They love to talk, whether it’s at a bar, restaurant, or even bowling. Conversations are how they explore their thoughts and connect with others. They enjoy discussing their day, ideas, dreams, and goals. They expect their partner to listen and share their own aspirations as well. Intellectual connection is key, and they want to hear your take on things just as much as they want to share theirs.

4️⃣🏠

Homebody vibes with Aquarius Venus in the 4th house. They prefer staying in and cuddling up with their partner on the couch, talking about life and sharing their thoughts. While they may appear detached at first, they have an emotional side that they reveal once they feel comfortable with you. At first, they may seem cool and distant, but as the relationship progresses, they become warm, sentimental, and more romantic. They are surprisingly loving and comforting once you break through their emotional walls.

5️⃣🏠

Aquarius Venus in the 5th house is all about fun and play. They love to do things on a grand scale and enjoy sharing experiences with a partner. Whether it’s going to a shooting range or booking a spontaneous trip to Switzerland, they want their partner to be part of the adventure. For them, romance is fun, but they keep things light and don’t rush into emotional commitments. They prefer to play it cool and enjoy the moment, often maintaining an easygoing attitude toward relationships.

6️⃣🏠

Aquarius Venus in the 6th house can be a bit of a wild card. They are detached and may not focus on the details of the relationship, but they appreciate loyalty and presence. They tend to look at the bigger picture rather than sweating the small stuff. When you get close to them, you’ll learn more about their deeper values and desires. They may not commit easily, as they have high standards and need a partner who aligns with their ideals. They can be social and easygoing but reserve deeper emotional connection for those who truly meet their expectations.

7️⃣🏠

Aquarius Venus in the 7th house is all about giving and generosity. They want to shower their partner with love and attention. They have a lot to give but may struggle to connect on a deeper emotional level. They enjoy being around their partner and giving them the world, but they don’t want to get too emotionally involved. Their love is more about being present and offering their support without diving too deeply into emotional intimacy.

799 notes · View notes

untitlzd · 25 days ago

Text

world class sin : prologue

sim jaeyun, park sunghoon, park jongseong x male reader.

next chapter : chain reaction.

After the contract is signed, Y/n stops asking why. He just shows up—quiet, pretty, dressed in whatever they hand him. The boys don’t want him there, not really. But the cameras love him. The mirrors follow him. Every rehearsal hurts. Every silence drips with resentment. And still, they keep him. Jay writes like he’s angry. Sunghoon dances like he’s alone. Jake watches him too long. None of them speak it aloud, but the feeling is the same: Y/n wasn’t earned. He was chosen. By the wrong people. For the wrong reasons. And now he’s theirs. Just twenty-three days until debut. Twenty-three days to become a fantasy.

warnings: idol!reader, objectification, industry power dynamics, emotional manipulation, possessiveness, voyeurism, obsessive behavior, gaslighting, celebrity exploitation, toxic relationships, industry elitism, ambiguous morality, dark themes of grief and identity loss, aestheticization of suffering, subtle yandere dynamics, inspired by The Idol and Anora.

please read before continuing:

CONTENT WARNING + Author’s Note World Class Sin is a fictional story. It is not real. The characters portrayed here are fictionalized versions inspired by public figures, but they do not reflect the real personalities, actions, or values of anyone in real life. This story is created purely for fictional storytelling and emotional exploration — nothing in it should be read as truth, reality, or a commentary on real people. This fic is made of dramatized emotions, and heightened dynamics set within a stylized, pressurized version of the global idol industry. Though it explores intensity, control, and desire, it is not intended to reflect what is healthy, safe, or good in real life. This story includes themes that may be emotionally heavy or difficult for some readers — such as emotional manipulation, objectification, isolation, possessiveness, psychological pressure, voyeuristic or obsessive dynamics, and moments where characters are treated as products instead of people. It also includes mature or NSFW scenes that reflect those imbalances — shaped by tension, not tenderness. The characters are morally gray. They are flawed, reckless, and often driven by desire more than compassion. They do things that are not admirable. And while those choices may be compelling in fiction, they are not excuses for real behavior — and they are not meant to romanticize harm. If you’re someone who’s sensitive to themes of control, emotional coercion, unwanted attention, or being dehumanized — please read with care. If at any point something in this story feels too close to home, too sharp, too familiar — you are allowed to stop. You never need to push through discomfort to prove anything. There is no story more important than your peace. You are not someone’s fantasy. You do not have to be ruined to be seen, or hurt to be held. If this story ever makes you feel small, unsafe, or alone — please, please take space. Close the tab. Drink water. Text someone who sees you clearly. Come back only if and when it feels right. And if it never feels right again — that’s okay too. Please don’t force yourself to return. This story does not deserve more of you than you’re able to give. From writer to reader — I care about you. I care about your well-being more than this plot or any fictional moment. You matter more than anything written here. Your softness, your boundaries, and your safety are always worth protecting. Please take care of yourself. You’re never alone in choosing yourself. With care, Luke.

Before the company. Before the cameras. Before the lights wrapped around his skin like a second set of hands and people began calling his silence presence — there was just Y/n.

Y/n, who used to sing under his breath in the backseat of his mother’s car while she drove barefoot, humming along to songs too old for the radio. Who used to dance in the kitchen at night while spaghetti boiled on the stove, barefoot on cheap tile, arms wide like the world couldn’t touch him. He didn’t want fame. He just liked how music felt in his chest — like proof that he existed. Like warmth. And she saw it. His mother. She used to say he was a light. A soft one. The kind that flickered gently in dark places, not to shine, but to keep people from feeling alone. She called him magic. Said if the world saw him the way she did, it would fall in love and never recover.

But the world never got the chance to meet her. She got sick, fast and cruel, like some invisible hand reached down and stole the only thing keeping his life from collapsing in on itself. One day she was folding his laundry and singing about the weather; the next, she was a name on a hospital file he couldn’t afford to print. The grief didn’t break Y/n all at once. It hollowed him. Slowly. Gently. Like a song that fades without ending. He didn’t scream or cry or destroy things. He just… stopped. Stopped talking. Stopped singing. Started disappearing one silent moment at a time.

There were nights he didn’t come home. Mornings he couldn’t remember where he’d been. Rooms he walked into that felt too hot, too cold, too loud. People touched him and he let them, but it didn’t mean anything. He didn’t feel ruined — just distant from his own body. He let strangers speak to him like they knew who he was. Let the world pull at the corners of his clothes, his mouth, his name. He wore her perfume for weeks after she died, just to remember what love smelled like. And eventually, even that faded.

So when a woman with too many rings and too white of a smile called and said she’d known his mother once, said she had a place for him, a stage, a future — Y/n didn’t question it. He didn’t even want it, not really. But he went. Because it was forward. Because it was something. Because standing still was starting to feel like dying.

They flew him to Los Angeles. No audition. No promise. Just a room, a contract, and a group that had already been chosen. A self-producing global project: stylists from Seoul, choreographers from London, a debut stage booked in MCOUNTDOWN before the ink had even dried. Jay, Jake, Sunghoon — three names carved into the industry like sharp things. Boys with scars. Boys with hunger. Boys who had given everything to be here.

And now, they had to stand next to Y/n — the boy who had given nothing but still looked like he’d been born in spotlight.

The executives were obsessed. He was everything they wanted without even trying. A beautiful, damaged blank slate. His trainee period was short — barely weeks. But that didn’t matter. They said he had that thing. The unnamable thing. They called his eyes marketable sadness. Big, glistening, expressive things that looked like he was always about to cry. Like he knew something you didn’t. Like he needed saving. And people wanted to save him. Or ruin him. Or both.

He was pliable. Innocent in all the wrong ways. And when stylists dressed him in sheer shirts and told him not to smile, he didn’t ask why. When vocal trainers told him to whisper his lyrics like they were secrets, he did. When photographers posed his hands limp and his lips parted, he obeyed. There was something in him that had been emptied out. And in its place, the industry poured something else — glossy and broken and dripping with want.

They didn’t see the boy in the kitchen spinning barefoot for no one. They saw the after. The glow of something burned too long. A boy with soft wrists and pretty bones and eyes like bruises. Something not quite alive but still moving.

And Y/n let them have it.

Because it was easier than remembering. Because grief had made him quiet, and now quiet made him desirable. Because being watched felt better than being alone.

Because when you’ve been loved by someone who saw your soul, you’ll spend the rest of your life letting people take your body just to feel something close.

They didn’t meet him on a stage. Or in a practice room. They met him in silence—late afternoon, overhead lights too white, the hallway outside the recording studio carrying the sterile smell of burnt coffee and industrial air freshener. The building always felt like that. Cold, new, over-designed. Like ambition lived in the vents.

Y/n stood alone in the corridor, tucked into a corner like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to take up space. His clothes were plain—company-issued hoodie, soft drawstring pants, shoes too clean. He looked like he’d been dropped there, like someone forgot to tell him what to do next. His hands were tucked in his sleeves, his gaze heavy and uncertain, big glassy eyes scanning the passing staff like he was waiting for someone to explain what his life had become. But no one did. People walked past him like he wasn’t real.

And inside the studio, the boys were waiting.

Jay had been mid-edit, headphones pulled halfway off one ear, track looping back on itself as he adjusted vocal layering. Jake had been at the whiteboard with a pen in his mouth, scribbling fragments of a chorus they hadn’t agreed on. Sunghoon was sitting on the floor, stretching in slow, practiced lines, watching his reflection in the glass.

When the door opened and one of the assistant managers stepped in, clearing their throat with a smile too tight, everything slowed.

“Your new member’s here,” they said. Simple. Blunt. As if it were a schedule change, not a shift in the entire balance of the room.

Jay’s eyes didn’t move from his screen. “What do you mean, new member?” His voice was flat. Controlled. But his fingers paused mid-click.

“CEO’s orders. He’s joining the lineup.”

Jake turned. Sunghoon didn’t blink. None of them said anything, but the silence that followed was louder than any protest.

And then he stepped in.

Y/n, soft-faced, quiet, impossibly still. His presence wasn’t loud, but it was there. It crept into corners. His eyes—those too-bright, too-sad things—flicked from face to face, not with confidence, but with the strange, hollow politeness of someone used to being tolerated, not welcomed. He bowed. Soft. Awkward. Like he wasn’t sure he was doing it right.

Jay’s stare was unreadable. He leaned back in his chair, one eyebrow lifting slightly. He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. The tension in his shoulders said enough. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. They had trained for years together—fought, failed, rewritten songs through tears and caffeine and injury. And now this? A stranger in their studio? One they hadn’t trained with, hadn’t chosen?

Sunghoon stood. Slow. Measured. His body moved with dancer’s precision even now, coiled tight beneath the silence. His gaze swept over Y/n once, impersonal. Not curious. Just… calculating. Like he was adjusting choreography in his head to factor in a flaw.

Jake’s lips pressed into a line. He said nothing, but his grip on the whiteboard marker tightened, ink bleeding into the surface behind him like it had nowhere else to go.

And Y/n? Y/n just stood there. Looking at them. Looking past them. Not trying to explain. Not trying to smile. Just standing there with those trembling, ruined eyes like he already knew what they thought. Like he’d heard it before.

The manager gave a quick clap, like the moment needed wrapping. “Alright. I’ll leave you to it. He’s already got housing in your dorm. Training schedule starts tomorrow. Be good to each other.”

The door clicked shut.

And the silence collapsed into something heavier.

Y/n didn’t speak. He didn’t introduce himself again. He just stepped further into the room, slow, hesitant, like the floor might reject him. He moved toward the couch in the corner, sat down too carefully, as if afraid he’d take someone’s spot.

Jay turned back to his laptop. Pressed play. The track looped again.

Jake went back to the board, but didn’t write.

Sunghoon lowered himself to the floor again, more rigid this time.

No one told Y/n where to stand. Where to sit. What to do. No one asked his story. They didn’t need to. They had already decided what kind of person he was.

He was the fourth member now. A piece of a group he hadn’t earned. A replacement for someone they actually cared about.

He didn’t belong.

And in some twisted, brutal way—

That was exactly why they chose him.

The training studio was too bright in the next morning. Too clean. The kind of sterile, high-ceilinged space that didn’t allow mistakes to hide. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors on every wall, polished until they could catch even the faintest flicker of shame. The sound system buzzed faintly overhead. The air reeked of lemon disinfectant and effort.

Y/n was already there when the others arrived.

He’d shown up twenty minutes early, clutching a company-issued water bottle with both hands, like it might anchor him to the floor. He stood near the back wall, away from the mirror, staring at his own reflection like it didn’t quite match up. His hoodie sleeves were bunched at the wrists. His hair was still damp from the rushed shower. His eyes—their usual wounded-glass glaze—were unreadable, a little too wide, like he hadn’t slept.

He didn’t look like a trainee. He looked like someone pretending to be one.

Jay walked in first, earbuds still in, the collar of his jacket loose and unzipped like he’d sprinted from the studio just to be forced into this. He didn’t look at Y/n. Just dropped his bag at the wall and started stretching.

Jake came next, nodding curtly to the trainer stationed near the door, then immediately scanned the room. When his eyes landed on Y/n, something behind them tightened. It wasn’t surprise anymore. It was adjustment. A silent recalibration—how do you move around something you never asked for?

Sunghoon entered last. His expression didn’t change. It never did. He placed his water down carefully, tied his shoelaces like they were performance art, then stood in the center of the room and rolled his shoulders with the mechanical focus of a blade being polished.

“From the top,” the trainer called.

The music started.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t kind. It was the track they’d been preparing for weeks, long before Y/n had been added in. Heavy bass layered over precise percussion, punctuated with vocal stabs and hard cuts in the tempo. It's a song of the French House mixed with drum & bass and dubstep. The choreography was difficult—sharp hits, tight formations, no room to fall behind. It was designed to showcase unity.

Y/n was half a beat behind from the first step.

His movements were rehearsed, yes. Memorized. But not lived in. He danced like a soldier following orders, not like someone who believed in what he was doing. His limbs moved with calculated correctness, but there was no rhythm beneath it. No breath. Just mimicry. Just survival.

Jay didn’t hide his reaction. His eyes flicked up to the mirror mid-verse, caught the staggered rhythm in Y/n’s step, and narrowed. His jaw clenched. He didn’t say anything—but the tension in his arms as he hit his mark spoke volumes.

Sunghoon’s movements were a masterclass in control. Every pop of his shoulder, every step, every lift—clean, exact, devastating. But when they transitioned to group formation and Y/n brushed his side during a cross, Sunghoon’s body tensed. Only for a second. But it was there. A recoil.

Jake kept his eyes forward, lips pressed into a line. He hit every beat—fluid, magnetic—but you could feel it in the way his hands curled too tight on the downbeats, in the way his gaze skipped over Y/n whenever the formation pulled them too close. Not quite anger. Not yet. Just a loaded silence.

Y/n didn’t react.

Even when the trainer paused the track and called out, “Y/n—again. Your timing’s off on the first chorus.”

He only nodded. Stepped back into place. Counted under his breath. Reset his feet. Tried again.

And again.

By the third hour, the mirrors were fogged at the edges and the floor was streaked with sweat. The room reeked of it now—effort, frustration, resentment stewing under fluorescent light. Y/n’s hoodie was gone, revealing the too-thin tank top underneath, damp at the collar. His cheeks were red from exertion. His arms shook faintly when he raised them. But his expression hadn’t changed. He still looked like someone doing penance.

When they finally broke for water, Jay didn’t sit. He paced, wiping his neck with a towel, the lines between his brows deepening every time he glanced back toward Y/n, who was crouched by the wall, sipping water like it hurt to swallow.

Sunghoon didn’t speak. But his silence wasn’t neutral—it was sharp-edged, purposeful, a presence in the room like a wire stretched too tight. He pulled out his phone, thumb tapping idly, but his reflection in the mirror stayed fixed on the corner Y/n sat in.

Jake stood by the stereo, arms crossed, gaze down.

No one spoke.

Because nothing needed to be said. They were rehearsing for a debut that was supposed to be theirs—just theirs. Built on history. On blood. And now the fourth was here, soft-eyed and silent, fucking up the counts and soaking up the attention.

They weren’t teammates.

Not yet.

Just strangers in matching shoes, breathing the same stale air, waiting to see who would break first.

When the trainer finally called it, the silence that followed was louder than the music had ever been. No celebration. No breath of relief. Just the hollow, collective sound of sweat hitting polished floors and lungs still burning from the last chorus. Y/n stayed where he was, crouched low with his elbows braced on his knees, palms digging into the fabric of his pants. His chest rose and fell slowly. Measured. Controlled. The others didn’t look at him—not directly. They moved around him like he was a piece of faulty equipment no one had figured out how to replace yet.

Jay was the first one out the door.

He didn’t even bother pretending. His towel hit the floor beside his bag, and he stalked out of the studio with his jaw clenched and one hand already scrolling through his contacts like he was ready to start a war. Jake followed. Not as fast, but just as intentional. His water bottle was still full, untouched, swinging loosely at his side like a weapon. And then Sunghoon, calm as ever, but his gaze didn’t lift once—not to the trainer, not to Y/n. Just forward, like if he looked back, the thin thread holding his composure together would snap.

Y/n didn’t ask where they were going.

Didn’t ask if he should follow.

He sat there in the corner of the practice room, arms resting on his knees, hair stuck to his temples in wet strands. His eyes—those wide, silent, glassy things—looked straight ahead but didn’t see anything. They weren’t just tired. They were frayed at the edges, rimmed red, not from tears but from the ache of trying not to cry. It wasn’t the rehearsal that did it. It was everything underneath. The way grief builds like heat beneath the skin. The way loneliness makes your body too heavy. The way every second here felt like punishment for something he didn’t understand.

They hadn’t told him how much this would hurt.

Two floors up, the air felt different. Cooler. Quieter. The executive level of the building was all soundproof glass, imported marble, and lighting that made your skin look better than it actually was. Jay hated it. He hated the way the hallway echoed with silence, the way every piece of furniture was too expensive to sit on. He hated the waiting room outside the CEO’s office with its spotless magazines and staged smiles. But mostly, he hated that they had to come here at all.

He didn’t knock.

The receptionist barely looked up. “He’s finishing a call.”

“We’ll wait,” Jay said, already pacing. His voice was sharp, sure, dangerous. Jake didn’t say anything. He stood beside the window, arms crossed, watching the skyline like it had answers. Sunghoon sat, legs crossed, but his body was pulled taut. Even his stillness was strategic—like his breath could ruin the balance.

When the door finally opened, the CEO didn’t bother with greetings. “I assume this is about the new lineup.”

Jay stepped in first. “You assume right.”

The office was warm. Too warm. Designed to feel comfortable, inviting. But the weight of it pressed against their skin like humidity. Fake comfort. Manufactured trust. The CEO didn’t sit at his desk—he sat across from them, on a lounge chair like they were about to have a casual brainstorm session. That just made Jay angrier.

“We’ve been rehearsing this set for months,” he said. “We built this. The three of us. From scratch. And now there’s someone we’ve never trained with suddenly center in the marketing decks? You didn’t even ask.”

“He’s not center,” the CEO replied smoothly. “He’s presence.”

Jake’s knuckles flexed where his hands were folded. Sunghoon didn’t move.

“Presence doesn’t fix formation,” Jay snapped. “Presence doesn’t cover missed steps. He’s not ready.”

“He doesn’t need to be ready,” the CEO said, calm, like he was explaining something to a child. “He needs to be watched. And he is.”

Jay opened his mouth, then shut it again. There was something terrifying in how confident the man was. Like this had never even been a debate.

“He’s not the strongest dancer,” the CEO continued. “He’s not the best vocalist. But people don’t look away from him. We’ve tested it. Media, marketing, even styling. When he’s in the frame, he is the frame.”

“That’s not what we’re building,” Sunghoon said finally. His voice was low. Even. But the edge in it was impossible to miss. “This isn’t just a group. It’s a system. And he’s not part of it.”

The CEO nodded. Slowly. Like he’d heard that line before.

“And systems evolve. Especially the ones that want to last. You three are the spine. The sound. The foundation. But he’s the face.”

Jake looked away. His jaw twitched.

Jay was already standing. “You should’ve told us. Before it became official.”

“It’s been official since the day he arrived,” the CEO said. “The press release is already drafted. MCountdown is booked. You’re debuting in twenty-three days.”

Silence.

The kind that wasn’t hollow—but final.

Jay stormed out. Jake followed.

Sunghoon lingered for just a second longer.

Then he nodded once, almost imperceptibly. Not agreement. Just acknowledgment.

He understood now.

They were no longer building this group.

They were part of what had been built around someone else.

The door to the CEO’s office shut behind them with a soft click, but the silence it left in its wake was anything but gentle. The hallway stretched before them like a tunnel with no end, polished tile reflecting the muted overhead light, the buzz of fluorescent fixtures matching the hum in Jake’s ears. No one said anything at first. Jay stalked ahead, his shoulders rigid, hands clenched into fists at his sides. Sunghoon followed, his steps slow and even like he was regulating every inch of his body just to keep it from trembling. Jake walked last, still reeling from what had just been said, from the clarity of it — the certainty with which they’d been dismissed, replaced, rearranged around a single, silent newcomer with no past and no proof.

It wasn’t about talent. It never had been.

And that was the part that left a taste in their mouths like rust.

None of them had cried when their old friends were cut. When the lineups changed. When the fifth, sixth, seventh iteration of this group was dissolved and rebuilt again. They knew the rules. Knew how it worked. Survival meant adaptation. But this — this wasn’t survival. This was sabotage dressed up as strategy. They weren’t just making room for Y/n. They were being told that everything they had bled for was secondary now. That their work, their history, their nights spent collapsed in rehearsal rooms and vocal booths didn’t matter as much as the way he looked under soft lighting. The way his eyes stayed wide and sad, like he’d never learned to protect himself. Like the industry could devour him slowly and still leave room for dessert.

Jay stopped in the middle of the corridor, running a hand through his hair like he could scratch the thought from his skull. “He’s not even trying,” he muttered under his breath. “He just stands there. And they act like it’s art.”

Sunghoon didn’t respond. He didn’t have to. The line of his jaw, the quiet rage in the set of his mouth, said more than words. Jake leaned against the wall beside them, arms crossed, staring at the floor like it had betrayed him.

None of them had asked for this. And yet—there it was. That image of Y/n in the studio, barely moving, barely breathing, and still somehow commanding every eye in the room. It was offensive. It was infuriating. And it was undeniable.

The executives had seen it instantly. They hadn’t looked at Y/n and seen potential. They had seen a product already in its final form. A face that could sell out stadiums and perfume ads. A presence that didn’t need to say anything because the silence did all the work. That was the trick — the way his grief softened his features, made his mouth look vulnerable even when closed. The way his eyes stayed glassy, as if carrying a sadness that hadn’t been explained yet, but begged to be understood. They didn’t need him to be perfect. They needed him to be breakable. Beautiful in a way that made people want to ruin him, gently. Slowly. With reverence.

“He’s not even acting,” Jake said suddenly, voice tight. “That’s just how he is.”

Jay glanced at him. Jake wasn’t defending him. That wasn’t what this was. But the words hung in the air like something dangerous.

Because it was true. Y/n wasn’t calculating. He wasn’t pretending to be tragic. He simply was.

And that made it worse.

Because it made people want to keep him. To protect what looked so fragile, even if it wasn’t. Because despite the resentment curling in Jay’s chest, despite the quiet loathing in Sunghoon’s gaze, and the cold irritation in Jake’s bones—none of them wanted anyone else to have him. Not the executives. Not the stylists. Not the audience. He was theirs. He was in their group. Their story. Their songs. He hadn’t earned it, but now that he was here, the idea of someone else taking ownership of him felt like a deeper betrayal.

That wasn’t love. It wasn’t even care. It was possessiveness in its most twisted, quiet form. The kind that festers when something soft is placed in a room full of people who’ve only ever survived by being hard.

“He’s gonna ruin this for us,” Jay said flatly, starting to walk again.

But Jake didn’t move. And Sunghoon lingered.

Because ruin wasn’t always fire and blood. Sometimes, it looked like a boy with eyes full of grief and hands that didn’t know what to hold onto. Sometimes it looked like innocence laced with something sensual — not on purpose, but in the way people wanted to project their filth onto something clean. Y/n had become that. Not even a person anymore. A screen.

And maybe that was the real reason they couldn’t stand him.

Because he made everyone want things they weren’t allowed to want.

They walked without speaking.

The street was mostly empty, the kind of late where everything felt quiet in the wrong way—like the city was holding its breath. The sidewalk stretched ahead in long strips of shadow and light, blinking from the neon buzz of 24-hour storefronts and the muted glow of passing cars. Jay’s steps were fast, agitated. Sunghoon moved more slowly, deliberate, his body carrying itself with the kind of practiced calm that only barely masked unrest. Jake followed behind, not dragging his feet, but not really pushing forward either. Just… moving. Like the floor might vanish if he stood still too long.

They were still full of what had happened upstairs.

The way the CEO hadn’t blinked when he said it. He’s not the center. He’s the frame. Like they were props now, scaffolding around something else. Like the years they had poured into this — the ruined knees, the vocal strain, the callouses, the panic, the loneliness — were just context for a face with the right kind of silence behind it.

It was insulting.

And worse — it was working.

Jay had known a thousand boys more talented than Y/n. He could name five off the top of his head who were better dancers, better singers, better alive in front of a camera. And yet none of them made the room shift like Y/n did. That haunted stillness. The eyes that looked too open to be safe. A softness that wasn’t weakness — just absence. Like someone had carved out the center of him and left the shell behind, and somehow that was beautiful. The stylists whispered about it. The executives didn’t even try to hide their obsession. They were already shaping him into the kind of icon people whispered about, idolized, wanted to break just to see what kind of sound he’d make when he fell.

Sunghoon hated it.

Not Y/n, exactly. Not yet. But the imbalance. The way the system bent around him. He wasn’t supposed to be part of their equation. The three of them had been trained together like a machine — interlocking, precise. They’d shared blood, floors, years of fighting. They knew each other’s timing better than their own. And now this… soft thing had been dropped in the middle of it all like a piece of furniture no one remembered ordering.

And yet — even Sunghoon had caught himself watching him. Noticing the strange angles of his silence. The way he held tension in his throat but not his shoulders. The way his lips stayed slightly parted, always, like he was trying to breathe in something he’d never been taught how to take.

It made you want to reach for him.

Or shake him.

Or both.

Jake didn’t even want to admit what it made him feel. There was something about the way Y/n existed that made people confused about what they were looking at. He wasn’t performing, but it still felt like he was always on display. Like the air folded around him differently. Jake had been around stars before — people who knew how to command a room. But Y/n was the opposite. He did nothing. He shrank. And somehow, that was worse. Because people filled the space around him with their own desire.

And it wasn’t just them. It was everyone. The marketing team. The vocal coach. Even the interns whispered when he walked past.

They didn’t look at Y/n like a person.

They looked at him like a suggestion.

And maybe that was the worst part. Jake couldn’t stop seeing it either.

It wasn’t sympathy. They didn’t feel sorry for him. They were too angry for that. But they also didn’t want anyone else to get too close. Didn’t want to see him styled in a way they hadn’t approved. Didn’t want to hear a stranger talk about his eyes like they meant something. He was theirs now, whether they liked it or not. Their problem. Their weak link. Their… whatever he was. No one else got to decide how far he’d fall. If anyone was going to cut him down, it would be one of them.

The dorm loomed ahead — bland building, dim lights, the shape of routine glowing behind the curtains. It looked the same as always. But nothing inside felt stable anymore.

Jay didn’t stop walking until the front door clicked open.

Jake’s fingers hovered near the code box, even though he already knew the numbers. Sunghoon stood beside him, eyes flicking up toward the dark window above the kitchen. No movement. No sound.

Inside, Y/n was probably on the couch again. Or in the corner of the bedroom with his knees tucked up, headphones in, expression blank. Or maybe asleep with the light on, not dreaming. Just suspended.

They stood outside for a moment longer than they needed to.

No one said it.

But something had changed.

And none of them knew what it meant that the boy they hated most — the boy they had every reason to resent — was already starting to feel like something they owned.

There was no word for it — what he made them feel. Not jealousy, not fascination, not pity. It was something heavier, messier. Something they couldn’t talk about without sounding sick. And maybe that was why none of them spoke as they entered the building, shoes thudding softly against the tile, the hallway narrowing toward their unit like the tension between their ribs. Jay was the first one to disappear into the kitchen, pretending to check the fridge, like he wasn’t picturing the way one of the stylists had leaned too close to Y/n during fittings, adjusting the hem of his shirt like she was dressing a doll she wanted to bite. It had made Jay want to throw something. And he didn’t know why.

He’d seen idols before. Had stood in the wings while others were stylized into stardom — molded, exploited, made desirable. But Y/n wasn’t molded. He just existed. And it enraged Jay, how easily the staff folded around him. How everyone treated him like something breakable but beautiful enough to be worth it. Jay didn’t want to touch him. Not really. But sometimes, in the silence after rehearsal, he imagined what it would feel like to shake him. To crack the quiet out of his body just to see what was underneath. Was it real? That dazed innocence? That polished fragility? Or was he just acting like everyone else?

In the living room, Jake paused by the door to the shared bathroom, eyes flicking toward the dim light under Y/n’s room. Still no sound. Still no presence. Jake had spent years building himself into someone who could perform what people wanted — a good trainee, a good idol, a lyricist who knew how to turn emotion into sellable lines. But Y/n didn’t write anything. Didn’t offer opinions. Didn’t even flinch when people spoke about him like he wasn’t in the room. It made Jake feel insane. And worse — it made him curious. Because every time the PR team mentioned Y/n’s face — those eyes, that mouth, the melancholy soft enough to brand — Jake caught himself imagining it too. The way his lashes curved wetly when he was tired. The way his lips looked when he was breathing too hard after a failed take. It wasn’t even attraction. It was obsession with the idea of him. The way you want to figure out a locked door just because you’re not allowed behind it.

Sunghoon didn’t follow them in right away. He stood in the stairwell a moment longer, hand braced against the wall, replaying the moment in the CEO’s office when one of the assistants had said, “He’s the kind of face people fight over.” Sunghoon had laughed — just once — too bitterly, too sharp. He hated how right it was. How every staff member treated Y/n like a prize and a burden in one. How they cooed over his bone structure, his posture, his silence, as if it were something trained. As if it hadn’t come from being emptied out. But even Sunghoon, in the stillness of his own mind, had started to imagine it too — the way Y/n’s body moved when he wasn’t performing, the twitch in his shoulder when someone startled him, the way his voice broke on certain syllables like he didn’t know how to ask for comfort. It wasn’t sexual, not exactly. It was something worse. Wanting to own the shape of his ruin before someone else made a mess of it.

They didn’t like him. They didn’t trust him. But they couldn’t stop watching him. And that was the problem — not just the threat he posed, but the way he unsettled something deep in each of them.

Not as a person.

But as a question.

A symbol.

A story waiting to be owned by someone.

And God forbid that someone wasn’t them.

note: hi, it’s luke. if you made it this far — welcome, and thank you for reading. this prologue is just the beginning of what world class sin is going to be. a small taste of something heavier. i’ve had this concept sitting with me for a while now, and writing it has felt like peeling back something slow, sharp, and a little too intimate. the themes are layered — obsession, grief, beauty, control — and that’s exactly where this story lives. in the spaces between what’s seen and what’s endured. there’s more coming soon, and things will only get deeper. the emotions, the tension, the unraveling — it’s all just starting. and if you’ve been peeking around the blog, you might’ve already caught a little spoiler floating around. hehe. thank you for being here with me. and while you’re here, make sure you’re also being kind to yourself. drink some water, rest your eyes, and go easy on your heart when you need to. more soon, luke :)

352 notes · View notes

yesimwriting · 10 months ago

Text

An Act of Service

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Summary: Your father has loyally served the Iron Throne and royal family for many years. No one would ever assume the Grand Maester wanted more for his family's name until he has the opportunity to send his daughter to help treat the pain that's plagued Prince Aemond since the childhood injury that cost him his eye.

Warnings/info: canon deviations (maesters are vowed to celibacy and not allowed to have families bc of the exact political reasons this fic follows, but i really wanted to write this, so we're going to pretend that they can have kids), thinly veiled implications of reader's father wanting to "sell" his daughter out to a prince to aid his family's position

A/n I hate to be the part 2 girl but the ending set up a part 2 so well i may have to

----

It's systemic, the proportioning of herbs so familiar you barely need to glance away from the bronze mortar.

Your arm reaches forward, your eyes briefly darting away from the metal bowl and towards the neatly organized botanicals at your father's work station. You reach for dried petals, the remnants of a rose's remains crumbling slightly beneath your touch.

"Very well," the words are earnest, a rarity when it comes to your father's praise. "But do not get so comfortable you forget your measurements. These remedies may be creations that we feel, but they are also exact."

You nod once, allowing the petals to fall into the mortar before setting your hand against the work table. Your father's unofficial lessons are precarious, often based on his mood and defined by his meticulous nature. He did not achieve his position within the Red Keep through careless work.

Today, he seems content, his peace evident in the lightheartedness of his corrections. Days like this keep your world on its axis, the time with your father making you ever grateful for his position as well as your own. It is rare for a Maester's child to be allowed to stay near their father, let alone work within the same home as him. His place within the Red Keep allowed him the privilege of bringing you and your younger sister to work as royal maids after your mother's passing.

"Of course."

He plucks another petal from the jar, dropping it into the bowl with no sense of malice. You're glad for his patience, but in all honesty, you're grateful for his attention and lessons no matter his disposition.

As a woman, you may never be able to become a Maester or dedicate your life to the work that fascinates you, but his lessons still hold great value. You help your father heal others between your domestic labors within the Red Keep, and at times, you aid sick or injured members of the royal staff.

He nods approvingly, giving you the confidence to reach for the pestle. You begin to grind the combined herbs sitting inside the mortar.

Hurried footsteps echo from somewhere beyond your father's door. You hesitate, eyes darting towards the entrance. You are not barred from assisting your father with his labors, but many frown on the idea of a woman so close to such an important Maester's work.

The door is pushed open with a protesting groan from its tired hinges. The individual turns, revealing a too familiar uniform. A guard.

You blink, immediately turning your attention towards the unfinished herbal remedy in front of you.

"Grand Maester," the man's greeting is curt, uncertain as he glances in your direction. You busy yourself with blending your herbs. "It is the prince, once again pained by his missing eye."

That alone tells you all you need to know about the guard's hesitation to speak in front of you. You've never once spoken to Prince Aemond, but everyone knows of the childhood injury that cost him his eye. Some maids even claim that a great deal of current political turmoil stems from the mistake that occurred during youth driven roughhousing.

The recurring pain that has afflicted the prince since is a lesser known ailment. Over the years, your father has often been called to the prince's apartments at odd hours to clean and treat the prince's permanent injury, late at night or during the early hours of the morning, when the halls of the Red Keep are most empty.

Your father moves away from the work table and towards the shelf of prepared medications. "Did the prince describe the pain? An ache, soreness..."

"It is a burning pain," the guard begins, "The prince did not go into detail, but he did say his skin felt warm."

Your father stills. "That is not his usual ailment." He turns to face the guard. "I will need to cleanse the eye before the pain can be treated."

The guard is silent for such a long moment you find it in you to look away from the safety of the work table. "His highness...The prince has mandated that no Maesters be brought to him. He only wishes for me to bring him the salve you offered him last."

The Grand Maester begins to pace forward. "May I send his highness the girl?"

Your hand stalls too suddenly, the pestle striking the mortar's side. Surely, your father is referencing some--some other girl. A prince's maid that he is familiar with, or--

"My daughter has witnessed and aided me in my practices her entire life. She is well versed in the process of cleaning injuries and applying remedies in a way that avoids contamination." The guard is silent as his attention shifts onto you.

The guard finishes regarding you with no real flourish. He looks over at your father. "The prince's desires were clear, he does not want more people aware of the situation than necessary."

"You would have a prince of the realm apply a salve himself to an already agitated wound without first having it properly cleansed?" He begins to walk forward, approaching the guard with a confidence you've seen him wear before. "I am more than willing to serve him at a later hour, but his ailments do concern me, and time is a significant factor."

The guard says nothing as your father continues to take measured steps towards him. "She offers the prince the discretion of a maid and the skill of a Maester."

Warmth begins to burn its way up your neck. You had never been put into the position to work closely with the royal family, only ever seeing them from a distance. That does not mean you have not heard stories.

You're not a particularly shy or nervous maid, you understand your place and the importance of keeping silent. But the princes...gossip about them often permeates the maids' quarters. Prince Aegon and his entitlement, Prince Aemond and his anger. Why is your father attempting to throw you to the dragon's? Is he--is he that concerned about the prince's current state?

The guard's eyes briefly find yours. "She can't tell anyone."

Your lips part, unsure if the statement is meant for you or your father. Before you can think of anything to say, your father agrees on your behalf, "She is loyal to the crown and instruction. Rumors will not spread from my daughter's lips." There's a beat of silence, and then the guard's careful nod. "Very well. I will gather the necessary materials."

"I must return to my post, a maid will be sent to take her to the prince's apartments." With those final words, the guard begins to approach the door, glad to be done with his involvement on a change that may upset the prince.

Once the door shuts, and you are finally offered the privacy of your father's company alone, the dread you had been warding off burrows itself in your chest. "Father, why--why would you ask to send--"

"I have treated the prince for many years, more than other Maesters within the Red Keep because of his desire for privacy, discretion." Your father's attention returns to the already prepared remedies. He steals a small jar from its place, setting it on the work table. "You are well trained, and no one will assume you are there to treat the prince."

He opens a drawer of bandages. "You also have a kind disposition, and a patience with the injured that even the most experienced Maester would envy. The prince's exterior may be hardened, but I remember him as a sensitive child."

The reminder of his childhood wedges itself into your chest, distracting you from your own fears long enough for you to feel something akin to compassion. Forever suffering due to an injury inflicted by the brashness of childhood anger.

Your father sets the bandages next to the salve. He then reaches for a cleaning ointment you are familiar with, placing it on the work table as well. Now satisfied with his collected materials, his attention finally finds you.

He approaches you slowly, a fondness not often seen pooling in his eyes. If this is a way of bringing your father pride, perhaps this task will not be as dreadful as it seems. "You have matured before my very eyes, growing into your mother's heart and beauty."

Your father extends an arm, his palm coming to brush against your cheek. The gesture is easing, a display of affection he has rarely offered you since your mother's passing. His fingers settle against your hairline, his nails carefully combing a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

"If you are to walk through the halls of the Red Keep, your hair should not flow as freely as a child's." The comment digs at you in a way you do not comprehend. When no worthy reaction comes to mind, you nod.

He steps back, attention returning to the supplies laid out on the work table. "Be careful, take your time checking the prince for infection and other sources of irritation. See to his needs, you are a good, kind girl. I am sure you will find a way to offer the prince comfort."

You swallow, unease settling in your stomach once again. With that, your father turns away from you.

----

The residential halls of the red keep are vast, with never ending turns and stairwells that come together to form a sort of labyrinth. Despite your lack of familiarity with the prince's maid that came to find you, you are grateful for her guidance.

She eyed you and the laundry basket disguising your medical supplies skeptically, but made no attempts to question you as she led you through the castle. Maids that are tasked with the direct care of the royal family tend to be familiar with the other staff members that work closely with the nobles. This woman has already recognized you as an oddity, a stray in routine.

If she had seemed less hesitant to be around you, you would have liked to ask her for her name, and to perhaps find a sense of normalcy through common ground. Her rejection and pointed distance has forced you to try to find a sense of peace through your surroundings.

You've rarely found reasons to wander through this part of the castle, the beauty of it serving as a way of distracting your racing thoughts.

Your guide stalls in front of a large set of doors. "These are the prince's apartments." She pushes open the doors, allowing you to enter before her. "The prince is resting in the room behind the seating area."

Your eyes land on the wooden door behind the small couch. One misstep in that room and things could very well be over for you and your family.

"Will you be able to find your way back?" The question is small, almost hesitant. You're sure she was tasked with getting you to and from the prince's apartments, but there's something about her stance that feels flighty. She does not want to enter the room the prince is resting in.

You have no way of knowing how Aemond reacts to treatments or his own pain, but if he fears the court gossiping about ailments enough to refuse a visit from a Maester, you doubt he takes well to maids witnessing his vulnerability.

"Yes," an act of mercy for you both, "Thank you for bringing me here, but I am certain I can make it back on my own."

She lets out a breath, nodding once. "Then I will return to my usual duties."

Considering that her usual duties revolve around Aemond, there's a good chance she's simply accepting the opportunity to excuse herself. You don't mind, glad for the excuse to not draw attention to what you're here for. She leaves you without another word.

You approach the door pointed out to you, firmly rapping your knuckles against the wooden surface once. A flat, "enter" provides you the strength to push open the door.

The details of the room are more intriguing than you can afford them to be, the intricate patterns on his walls and the ornate carvings etched into his bed frame so enticing a part of you nearly forgets of the prince.

You blink, forcing yourself to focus in an attempt to project the maturity your father had seen in you when he recommended you for this task.

You step further into the room, your eyes landing on the bed. There he is, head resting against the pillow, majority of his body covered by plush bedding.

Your father has only ever felt honored to care for members of the royal family, no matter Prince Aemond's sentiments, you're sure you'll feel something similar. "My prince?"

His head turns, the movement sluggish. "You...Who are you?" The words are more labored than they are defensive. That is not enough to ease the dread in your chest.

You exhale carefully, "The Maester--the Grand Maester sent me." You remain near the doorway, your hold on the laundry basket tightening. "I have a salve for your ailments."

He lifts his head further, his forearm pressing into the mattress. This new angle allows you to see the entirety of his features, the sharp slope of his jaw, the set of his lips...the jagged scar that cuts across porcelain skin. He regards you with an openness that leaves you without words.

The scar that marks him does not dull the beauty of his well sculpted features. Seeing him like this, studying him and what the loss of his eye has taken from him leaves your face warm, as if you've been caught searching for something not meant for you. You've never heard of a maid that's seen him without his sapphire eye.

"Alright." The response feels significantly less hostile than he was a moment before. "Leave it at my bedside table."

You walk forward carefully, mind begging you to think of a way to bring up why your father sent you here. "My pri--"

"You did not answer my question." The authority in his statement doesn't feel like an accusation. When you remain silent, he continues. "You are not my usual maid, the one who is sent to retrieve items from the Maester."

"No," you agree, "The Maester suggested that I bring you your remedy because he found the description of your pain slightly worrisome. He wanted to abide by your wishes to not be visited by a Maester while also assuring that your injury was properly cleansed before being treated." After a beat of no response, unease burrows itself further into your chest. "I can leave you, if you'd pref--"

He turns his head to better look at you, strands of silver hair falling past his shoulder. "What could possibly qualify you to cleanse a wound?"

The question, though delivered sharply, is a fair one. "The Grand Maester, my father..." If the revelation intrigues him in any way, he gives no indication of it. "Has had me assist him with his duties nearly my entire life. I have been trained in basic care and am confident in my ability to properly cleanse a wound."

Prince Aemond is silent for a moment, watching you with an all consuming focus. You've heard stories of his intensity, of his seriousness. The prince pushes himself to sit up fully. "Very well. The maid before you left clean water and rags at my bedside."

Your attention shifts to his nightstand, a small bucket and wash cloth waiting on the hardwood surface. You nod, digging through the clean sheets of your basket until you find the remedies and bandages your father had picked out for you. You lay out your supplies before looking over at the prince.

He has always seemed tall to you, but with him sitting in his bed, you cannot think of a proper way to lean over him to reach his eye while standing. You turn your head, eyes landing on a small desk and chair tucked into a corner. "My lord, would you mind if I..." You gesture towards the chair.

"Do as you need."

You nod in acknowledgement of his permission before moving the chair to his bedside. You dip the soft rag into the water before sitting. The proximity of your new position is oddly disorientating. Small Folk may not be held to the same pious standards as noble born women, but your father has raised you with certain expectations and regulations. With the exception of family, you doubt you've ever been this close to a man.

You lift the rag, but you cannot bring yourself to press it against his skin. "May I?"

He straightens. "Yes."

Even with that, you cannot will yourself to begin the cleaning process. Your father has always been careful when it comes to treating others, following every rule no matter how minor the injury. "My father has taught me to feel the area bordering the wound before cleaning it to make sure the extent of the injury is understood. However, I know this is an older wound, so if you'd prefer for me to only clea--"

"You may do as your father instructed. I am accustomed to the prodding." Sympathy briefly jabs at you. This is something he's experienced for over half his life.

You nod before lifting your free hand, fingertips gently brushing against his cheek. His skin is warm, perhaps a little warmer than a person should be. Your fingers shift forward gingerly, following the path of his scar. The closer you get to his eye, the warmer his skin feels.

"You don't look like him."

The comment pulls you out of your analysis. "Pardon me?"

"Your father," he tries again, "You don't look like him."

If his tone had been any less soft, you might have interpreted the observation as an accusation. "Oh, no." Your touch continues its path across his features. "Actually, I've often been told I take after my mother."

The skin around his eyebrow feels different than the rest of his injury, puffier, as if beginning to swell. Odd. "Does she work in the Red Keep as well?"

His curiosity is jarring, but not unwelcome. Having an excuse to speak makes focusing on such a personal task seem less invasive. "She did..." You blink in an attempt to reduce the impact of thoughts of what happened to your mother. You're doing well, you cannot allow an old grief to ruin everything. "Before she passed."

Prince Aemond hums once, the sound giving no indication of anything. Pleased with your preliminary analysis, you let your hand fall away from him. You turn to once again dampen the cloth held between your fingers.

"What happened?" The question is void of both empathy and brutal curiosity.

You bring the cloth to the side of the Prince's face. "She died..." Your only defense against his gaze is to focus on the irritated skin near his eyelid. Such swelling on such an old wound cannot be typical. "Bringing my sister into the world."

He falls silent again, allowing you to concentrate on dabbing the washcloth against his cheek. "I'm sorry."

Heat begins to burn its way up your chest, the way it always does when your mind dwells on the loss of your mother for too long. "I appreciate your sympathies, my prince."

Water beads against his skin, a single droplet beginning to drip downwards. Your hand stretches forward on instinct, thumb dragging against the hollow of his cheek to wipe away the water.

You do not realize your error until it is much too late. While wiping away the excess water dripping down the skin of an equal is expected, to do so to a prince without so much as asking first implies a familiarness that you are not entitled to.

"My lord, I apologize--there was water--" You stumble through your explanation while pulling your hand back.

Aemond extends his arm, long fingers latching themselves onto your wrist. His touch, though sudden, is far from harsh. You cannot manage to take in a full breath. "There is no need for apologies." He does not release you until you nod.

You return to cleaning his wound, this time making sure to be aware of your instinctual movements. The flesh above what once was his eyelid is jarringly hot. What would your father do? He'd--he'd examine the irritated area.

You shift towards him, so close you can make out individual strands of his silver hair. Your mind works at keeping your breaths even. There is a small area of his skin that's more swollen than the rest. At the center of the swelling, there's a thin line that seems to extend beneath his brow bone and into the space once occupied by his eye. As gently as you can manage, you lift the cloth to the space above his eyelid. He winces.

"I'm sorry." You're immediately pulling back, your spine pressing against your seat. "Are you hurt?"

Aemond's eye flits away from the wall in front of him and onto you. His lips are pressed together, his expression incredibly stoic. "No." The lie is a fragile thing that cannot matter. You saw him flinch. "If anything, you have been more thoughtful than most."

There's a tentative softness laced through the syllables, a hesitance that does not suit him. His careful assurance feels heavy, the pressure of it grounding you. In certain contexts, you can see how the strength of his personality could be perceived as violence, but there's something else to this quality...an intensity that can also apply to good things.

"I'm glad you feel that way." The nail of your thumb digs into the wash cloth. "I--I think I know why your eye has been troubling you, my prince."

His eyebrows draw together, expression coming dangerously close to displaying curiosity. "Why?"

"The skin just above your eye is slightly swollen and more irritated than the rest of your injury. When I examined the swelling more closely, I noticed a scratch." You pause, thinking through your wording. "It's small, but seems to be irritating the scarring around your original injury. You should have an ointment applied with your usual salve to ward off infection for the next few days."

You can't interpret the silence that follows. His expression morphs into something heavy. "A scratch?"

"It is nothing to be concerned about, my prince." The source of his pain is small, if he is careful, there should be no risk of infection or long term consequence. "Truly, the scrape is no wider than..." You glance around the room, looking for something to estimate the size of his injury. Your eyes fall to the hand on your lap. You lift your arm, holding your palm out between the two of you. "The width of my smallest finger."

Aemond lifts his own hand, his fingers bending around around yours. You let him move your arm forward. He studies your pinky before dragging his thumb against your knuckles. The gesture is so comfortable you have to work at not pulling away. He lets out a quiet breath.

"My prince?"

Aemond's hold on you tightens. "Such a dismissible ailment, and I am left defenseless."

Oh--had he taken your attempts at easing him as an insult? His current wound may be small, but skin so marred is easily agitated, easily made sick. "I did not mean it that way." The earnestness of your own voice should startle you. "Your pain is no dismissible thing, the extent of your original injury is brutal enough, I cannot imagine how it feels for it to be agitated."

The words tumble past your lips so quickly, you are not given a chance to think through them. It is never a good idea to express opinions in front of the nobles. "I apologize for over stepping, my lord."

"I told you," his thumb moves against your knuckles once more, "There is no need to apologize."

You nod, still not feeling completely certain. "You should feel much better after the remedies take. The swelling will likely begin to go down before day's end."

His focus remains on your hand. Aemond releases you slowly, his fingers dragging against your skin as he lets go. A part of you is glad for the excuse to return to the familiarity of your tasks.

You open the ointment, fingers gathering a generous amount before returning to Aemond's wound. "Where do you usually work?"

"Often with my father, preparing remedies and organizing herbs and other supplies." You spread the product onto his skin carefully, your touch as light as you can manage. "When I'm not doing that, I assist the other maids, usually with the laundry and in the kitchen."

He nods absentmindedly. You straighten as you finish applying the salve. You wipe your hands onto the discarded washcloth before unscrewing the jar containing the salve.

Aemond is still as you apply the salve onto irritated skin. This time, as your fingers trail against his skin, you can feel Aemond's gaze focusing on you. You work quickly, focusing your distribution of the product onto the cut beneath his brow bone.

Finishing is more bittersweet than you expected it to be. You're glad to know that you've done what's been asked of you, to know that you've done nothing to offend the prince. However, some small part of you is reluctant to leave.

You reach for the cloth, dampening the fabric before wiping your hands clean once more. "The medications should begin to alleviate your pain soon." You twist the rag between your fingers. "Is there anything else you need, my prince?"

He watches you for a moment. "Only your name."

Unease lunges at your chest, nearly making your heart skin a beat. It is quite rare for a noble to ask for a servant's name, especially if the servant does not regularly see to their needs. When Aemond continues to watch you expectantly, you offer him your name.

He tries your name on his own lips, repeating it slowly. Unsure of what the proper response would be, you briefly dip your chin downwards in a subtle nod.

His lips part. You straighten, preparing for the appropriate dismissal. "Sit with me a little longer." The phrasing is gentle, but it feels far from a question. "Conversation would be a decent distraction."

You wring the washcloth further. Cautionary tales of low borns who found themselves overly comfortable spending time with the royal family have been recited to you as often as traditional bedtime stories. However, there is nothing inherently wrong with making polite conversation if it is asked of you. Either way, the dangers do not matter. It'd be a fool's error to directly deny the prince.

"Of course, my prince."

The immediate silence that follows tangles your stomach. Aemond has asked you for conversation as a way to distract himself from his pain and you have nothing worth saying to a prince. You lift your head, glancing around the room. Your observations are in vain, what common ground could you both possibly have?

Your eyes land on his desk. There are a few books stacked neatly on the wooden surface, one with a familiar title written on its spine. "Are you reading The History of the Conquerors?" The question feels too abrupt without a clarification, "I finished the final volume less than a fortnight ago, my lord."

Aemond studies you so openly you almost convince yourself you've misspoken. "You read?"

Despite the politeness of his tone, his true question is easy to assume. A majority of maids and other royal attendants can only read certain words, being taught just enough to get through their day to day lives. Your father had gone out of his way to teach you to read fully. He originally taught you to read to make it easier for you to understand texts detailing remedies and health conditions, but you quickly developed a passion for any text he could bring you.

"Yes, my father taught me." You smooth the washcloth over your lap. "Originally, he wanted me to be able to read about treatments and diseases, and now he is forever cursed to find me new reading material." As soon as the words are out, you're immediately mentally cursing yourself for your casualness. "I apologize, my prince, that was a...joke."

He shifts, his hands coming to rest on his lap. "I told you not to apologize." The correction leaves an uncomfortable heat clawing its way up your chest. Your nails dig into the rag. Aemond lets out a breath. "And you do not have to trouble yourself with proper addresses."

That's--You know for a fact that no maids in the Red Keep have ever spoken of a noble dismissing the need for formal addresses. If it happens, it's something kept secret. Not even your father, who has known and treated the prince since he was child, addresses him casually.

You squeeze the wash cloth, the fabric dampening your palm. "Alright." The word sits there, floating aimlessly without his title to guide it.

Aemond nods before allowing his attention to shift towards the books on his desk. "Did you enjoy the book?"

"Yes." At least this is a topic you feel capable of speaking on. "The descriptions of the seven kingdoms before they were united together were interesting, I haven't found many historical accounts that go that far back."

He takes a moment to digest your response. "It is a detailed account, but at times the writing seems to overly rely on the author's perspective."

"To me, that felt intentional." The excuse to debate narration is more welcomed than it should be. "The author is only taking the time to recount these events because of his personal investments in the conflict. The constant references to his own position felt like an attempt to get ahead of any accusations of bias."

Aemond sits up a little straighter, one of his hands coming to rest on the side of his bed. "That's a fair interpretation, though if that's the assumption we're reading under, it is a poor attempt at denoting political bias when compared to The Recounting of the Dornish Wars."

The Recounting of the Dornish Wars is a relatively popular account, your father had no trouble finding you the first and third volume. The second volume seems to be more of a rarity, something no one in your world has been able to track down yet.

"That's a good point, but the author of that account was in a completely different situation." You fold the towel in half. "It's one of my favorite accounts, even without the context of the second volume, the depiction of the conflict is so thorough one can still understand all the dynamics that came into play."

Aemond taps his fingers against the comforter, the rhythm slow but steady. "Without the second volume?"

"I've yet to track it down, but I've read the first and final installments." The admission feels small, almost uncertain. You move past it quickly, hands fidgeting with the wash cloth on your lap as you continue, "What did you think of the final act? I liked the sharpness of the ending, but I can also see how the suddenness could come off as inconclusive."

His hands move back to his lap. "I enjoyed it. I found the ending's sharpness an accurate depiction of a dragon's strength."

Right. To him, the historical accounts and enthralling tales are more than just stories. They're a part of him, familial legacies he is expected to continue.

A part of working within the Red Keep is dismissing any curiosities you may have regarding what is left of Old Valyria. The Small Folk may think of the dragons, may even discuss them in private, but they do not ask their riders about them.

This is the danger of losing certain formalities, lines begin to blur. You squeeze your hands together before asking, "Really?"

The corner of his mouth pulls itself upwards. Aemond presses the heel of his palm into the mattress as he shifts. "Even the smallest dragons are more fearsome than you can imagine." He angles himself towards you, morphing the remaining distance between the two of you into something inconsequential. "Each of them capable of a destruction that could devastate entire armies."

You're more drawn in than you should be. There's very little you can offer in return. To the Small Folk, the dragons are closer to an ideology than something to be known. Your curiosity combines uneasily with the acute awareness of his proximity. You rest your chin against your elbow. "Your dragon is...Vhagar? The same one from the History of the Conquerors?"

His chin dips forward, making the gentle curve of his mouth impossible to ignore. The prince's sole eye remains on you as it is dragged downwards, the pace of his analysis so unhurried you can feel each moment of it. Bearing the weight of Aemond's full focus is no small feat.

"Vhagar was once ridden by Queen Visenya, who used her size and strength to help unite Westeros." His voice is low, giving the reminder of what is connected to him through blood the reverence it deserves. He shifts even closer, the warmth of his breath now a tangible force against your skin. "And now she is mine."

Heat claws at your skin. You feel your lips part, but there is no waiting response. Before you can string together a coherent set of words, the familiar echoing of footsteps brings you back to the world outside of Prince Aemond.

Your spine straightens on its own accord, the entirety of your back pressing against the seat. Your fingers find the wash cloth again, nails digging into the fabric as if attempting to make up for the time the fabric spent abandoned on your lap.

There's a soft knock agaisnt his door, one Aemond only halfheartedly acknowledges with a blank "enter". He does not move until the door begins to creak open, and even then his new positioning is subtle, more of a turn of his head than an actual attempt to create distance between the two of you.

A maid, the same woman who first led you through the twisting halls of the Red Keep, is standing in the doorway. Her gaze briefly finds you before settling onto the prince. "My Prince, the Queen wishes to meet with you in the great hall before supper."

Aemond is quiet for a moment. You cannot will yourself to look away from the doorway to read his expression in an attempt to understand the silence. "Alright, tell my mother I will be there in a moment."

The maid nods. "Of course, my prince." Her eyes fall to you once more, the corners of her mouth tugging downwards before she shuts the door.

You maintain your posture as silence falls over the two of you. He studies you with the same openness that's characterized most of this interaction. An odd pang of some somber feeling you can't quite place strikes at somewhere deep inside your bones. "Do you need anything else before you meet with the queen?"

He presses his lips together before responding, "There is a book at the end of my desk that I've been meaning to return to the library."

You nod, a part of you relieved to be given such an understandable task. You stand, arms reaching for the abandoned laundry basket before you've fully straightened. "Of course." You adjust the basket onto your hip before letting your attention fall to the supplies still on his nightstand. "I'll leave the supplies here so that you can reapply the ointment and salve before bed."

You step back, eyes falling to the desk chair. One arm falls away from the basket, fingers coming to grasp the seat's wooden spine. "You may leave it."

The instruction is strange, but you don't think much about releasing the chair. "Of course." You move a few paces back before looking over at him again. Much to your dismay, the newfound distance does not rid your mind of the warmth of his breath against your skin. "If you'd like, I can tell my father that you'd like him to visit you tonight to check on your eye."

"No," his tone is decisive, "I trust your work." An unexpected pride swells in your chest at his certainty. Aemond sits fully, his legs moving out from under his bedding and onto the floor. "In fact, I'd like you to return tonight to check on my recovery."

Tonight. Your mind leaves you with no response. It is one thing to be sent to treat the prince when you are the only option for him to maintain the privacy he desires, but to come to his apartments at the hours you've heard of your father being called during, when the world is quiet and all the well behaved are already in bed.

You force those thoughts to stall. Aemond is a prince, and this is only an act of service. This is not a source of impropriety. "Of course, I'll be here when you call."

His acceptance of your compliance serves as a dismissal. You turn towards his desk, your eyes scanning the neatly organized items before finding the sole book waiting at the surface's edge. A copy of the second volume of The Recounting of the Dornish Wars.

This cannot be more than mere coincidence. You blink, throat a little drier than it was a moment ago. You're careful as you pick the novel, your hand supporting the book's spine. "This--"

"The library is not expecting it back for some time, but I believe it is best to keep things orderly." His voice remains neutral, but the set of his mouth, the upturn of his lips is much too knowing to not imply more.

He has directed you to a copy of the book you've been searching for that no one will think to look for for some time. The gesture settles against you, squeezing your chest in a way that makes it difficult to keep breathing. You allow yourself to grin openly as your gaze shifts between the prince and the book in your hand. "I agree, my prince."

The title falls from your lips before you can prevent it. You had been doing so well at disregarding titles...Perhaps it had been an act of fate, or some desperate attempt of your subconscious to remind you that any imaginary kinship your mind has created while treating him needs to be forever abandoned at his apartment's threshold.

His expression morphs into something unreadable. Instead of reminding you of what he had told you about titles, he says, "Aemond." The suddenness of his name throws you. "When we are alone, I'd prefer it if you called me Aemond."

Warmth burrows itself in your chest. If you thought any of the casualness the prince had shown you throughout your time here was dismissible, this is the opposite of that. A nail in a coffin you do not understand.

Still, you nod, fingers tightening around the book as you respond, "Then...I agree, Aemond."

A sharp nervousness digs into your chest, taking control of your limbs as you turn away. You leave his room without another word, a maid's basket on your hip and the prince's book in your hand.

----

a/n if you want to see the reader come back to aemond's room later pls lmk bc i think a part 2 would be fun :)

#hotd #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #aemond #aemond targareyn x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #aemond one eye x reader #game of thrones x reader #got #got x reader

1K notes · View notes

acourtofmishapandmistakes · 1 year ago

Text

Bumps, Blunders & Baby Kicks

Azriel & Reader Fluff Fic

Summary: As she enters her eighth month of pregnancy with her mate Azriel, the reader struggles with relentless discomfort from perpetual warmth and frequent need to pee. The story is filled with moments of tender comfort and delightful fluff.

Content Warning: Pregnancy, kissing, and accidental punching.

The bedroom sweltered like a furnace, suffocating despite the windows thrown wide open. Outside, the Sidra usually whispered cool breezes that now seemed to have lost their way, leaving only what felt like the heat from a scorching oven, clinging to your skin.

At eight months pregnant, with the weight of your unborn child pressing relentlessly from within, each movement felt like wading through molasses. The thin sheet that once promised some semblance of comfort now lay discarded by your feet. You shifted from your side to sit up, letting out a slight groan. Your hand swept over the curve of your belly. With the other hand, you brushed back the damp tendrils of hair that had glued themselves to your forehead, each strand saturated with sweat.

You let out a frustrated humph, struggling to take a deep breath, a task that had become increasingly difficult these days. You glanced at the empty space beside you on the bed. In the first few months of your pregnancy, Azriel had been almost inseparably attentive, hardly letting you out of his sight. He doted on you endlessly, always touching you, constantly checking if you were okay. By the third month, his constant vigilance had nearly driven you to smother him with a pillow while he slept. While you cherished the increased presence of your mate, his overprotectiveness had begun to feel suffocating, and you had gently nudged him to resume his duties at the Night Court, though with less risk involved.

You had returned to your work in the library after overcoming your morning sickness, determined not to be treated differently just because you were pregnant. The idea of being seen as weak or fragile irked you deeply. So you resisted, sometimes pushing yourself too hard, often ending your days exhausted and spent.

Azriel was reluctant to spend nights away, he valued these evenings with you, cherishing the time before your new babe arrived. However, it didn’t seem right for him to skip the meeting in the Summer Court, especially when that relationship was still in its infancy. Azriel had given you a long, passionate kiss, promising to return home as soon as he could. He then gently cupped your belly, whispered something too soft even for your fae ears to catch, and kissed your stomach. With that tender gesture, he winnowed away to the River House to meet with Rhys.

You gently ran your hand up and down the curve of your stomach. “Is it as hot in there for you as it is out here?” you murmured to your babe. As you fluttered your fingers across the top of your belly, the babe responded with a lively kick. Azriel had thoroughly enjoyed discovering all the ways to engage with the babe, from talking to them to gently pressing your belly to feel them push back. Each time you felt a kick, you’d call out to him, and no matter where he was, he’d appear in moments, eager to place his hands over yours and feel the movement too. He had been so disappointed when he missed the first of those tiny, internal kicks.

At the tiny kick, a smile spread across your face. Then, abruptly, you felt an overwhelming urge to pee—a sensation that seemed to dominate your days lately. Sighing, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and carefully stood up, arching your back in an attempt to ease some of the persistent ache. You stretched your arms high above your head, trying to loosen the tightness that gripped your body.

You ambled into the adjoining bathroom, the soles of your feet gently padding on the hardwood floor—a gracious gift from Feyre and Rhys when they learned of your pregnancy. The townhouse was your sanctuary. While Cassian had insisted that you and Azriel stay with him and Nesta at the House of Wind, you had joked that two pregnant females under one roof might leave only one male mate standing. Besides, you cherished the privacy of your own space with Azriel, and he seemed delightfully committed to "christening" every surface of your new home.

You paused by the large bathroom mirror, taking a moment to admire your side profile. Gently, you ran your hands over the curve of your stomach, tugging at the oversized t-shirt you'd claimed from Azriel after your own clothes had become too snug.

That’s a nice image, Azriel's voice echoed softly in your mind, his words a warm mental caress that brought an instinctive smile to your lips.

What are you doing up? you sent back to him, your mental voice tinged with a mix of surprise and warmth. Normally, you kept your side of the bond open when he was away, though his was often shielded due to his duties. Every now and then, you'd send him mental snapshots of you and the babe whenever he could receive them.

We just got back to our rooms, Azriel replied, his mental presence flickering like a comforting candle in the dark.

You glanced out into the deep, dark night. It has to be close to like 2 in the morning. What kept you out?

Azriel’s chuckle, rich and warm, flowed through the bond. Cassian got into a drinking contest with some of the Summer Court guards. Given his history, neither Rhys nor I thought it was a good idea to leave him unattended.

You couldn’t help but laugh. Fair response. Did he win?

Does anyone win in that situation? Azriel mused. He’s going to have a killer headache tomorrow morning, and I’m going to have to hear him complain about it. Also, I learned he can belch his ABC’s. Which he did. Four. Different. Times.

Oh good, you replied, already picturing the next gathering, I’ll have to ask him to demonstrate next time I can get a few beers in him.

I don’t think you would need to coax him, Azriel responded, amused. He seems pretty proud of himself. A beat passed. Are you doing okay? babe okay?

You stood up, having finished what felt like the longest pee ever. We’re both fine. Your babe just finds it hilarious to sit on mom’s bladder at night. That, and I’m just constantly hot.

Well, we knew that, came Azriel’s cheeky retort, and you could almost see his teasing grin.

I mean because of the pregnancy, you heathen.

I’m sorry my babe keeps making you have to pee. I’ll be sure to address it with them at our next meeting, Azriel joked, his voice soothing even across the distance.

I would appreciate that, you responded with a light laugh, exiting the bathroom and returning to the bedroom. Needing a break from the oppressive indoor heat, you stepped out onto the patio to catch what little coolness the night air could offer. When are you coming home?

Does my beautiful mate miss me that much? Azriel's voice was soft and playful.

You rolled your eyes, even though he couldn't see it. Your mate misses the foot massages and back rubs, that’s for sure. And your babe misses your voice. They’re quieter tonight.

His warmth enveloped you through the bond, a comforting embrace from afar. I’ll be home soon, he promised. Just a few more things to wrap up here.

Get some sleep, my love, you urged, feeling the heaviness of your own eyelids as a testament to the late hour.

I’m not the one carrying an unborn child, Azriel teased back.

The babe and I are both heading back to sleep, you responded, settling the conversation toward a close.

Goodnight, my love, and goodnight, my sweet babe. Dada misses you so much. His words were tender, filled with longing. Though no one knew for certain if unborn fae babes could sense their parents through the bond, you felt a heightened awareness from your babe whenever Azriel spoke like this. Perhaps there was something to the old tales after all.

You ran a hand over your stomach once more, a gesture both comforting and connective, then closed your eyes, letting the cool breeze from Velaris ease the persistent warmth enveloping you. After a moment savored in the night's gentle caress, you made your way back to bed, your heart and mind a little lighter, carrying the goodnight wishes of your mate with you into dreams.

Later that same night, you felt the warm caress of a hand pushing your hair from your face. In a flash your eyes open and you punched one hand out into the stomach of whomever was touching you. You jolted up, kicking your way to the other side of the bed, arms drawn in a fighting stance. Azriel doubled over, the air knocked from him.

Azriel sucked in a pained breath, managing to straighten up slightly as he held a hand to his stomach. His shadows fluttered around him, mirroring his surprise and discomfort. "I was just trying to be sweet," he wheezed, a forced grin not quite hiding the sting of your reflexive punch.

Your heart sank a little, guilt mixing with the remnants of your adrenaline rush. "Oh, Az, I'm so sorry. I thought—I didn't realize it was you," you stammered, the initial fear dissipating as quickly as it had surged.

He took a few more deep breaths, regaining his composure, his smile becoming more genuine. "It's alright. I should have known better than to sneak up on a warrior—even one who's eight months pregnant."

You lowered your arms, your stance relaxing, your expression apologetic. "I didn’t mean to hit you. It just... it happened so fast. But also, by the Cauldron Az!”

Azriel finally chuckled, the sound a bit strained but filled with affection. "Trust me, love, I've learned my lesson. Next time I'll make sure I'm not within striking distance when I come to give you a midnight kiss."

"Maybe just stick to verbal greetings from now on—at least during the night," you suggested, half-joking but also serious, not wanting to risk another misfire.

"Protective mom instincts, huh?" he chuckled, his shadows settling back as his breathing eased. “Can I touch you now without getting maimed?" he joked, his tone light but his gaze searching for reassurance.

You nodded, opening your arms in a peace offering. "Come here, you. Just maybe announce yourself next time, especially in the middle of the night.”

“Fair point,” he responded. “Alright, I am going to hug my mate now, and maybe kiss her, depending on how the hug goes,” Az announced.

“I am accepting the hug and aware of what is to come,” you joked back.

Azriel's embrace was a sanctuary of warmth and familiarity, his presence alone soothing the ambient heat that had been your constant companion these past months. The subtle change in his scent—a richer, earthier tone—seemed to ground you further, drawing a deep, content sigh from your lips as you nestled into his hold.

“I thought you wouldn’t be home till tomorrow?” you queried, tilting your head back to look up at him, curiosity lighting your features.

He responded not with words, but with a tender kiss, sealing his lips to yours in a brief, loving gesture. When he drew back, the smile on your face lingered, eyes fluttering open slowly. “I couldn’t sleep, kept thinking about you,” Azriel confessed softly, the hum of his voice vibrating against your skin. “So I left a note for Rhys, letting him know I’d come back early. If he needs me, I can always go back tomorrow.”

“You know, next time you have to go to the ocean side, maybe consider bringing your heavily pregnant wife who currently runs at about ten thousand degrees so I can get some of that ocean air,” you suggested playfully, your lips puckering slightly in anticipation of another kiss.

Azriel's laughter melded into the kiss, his breath mingling with yours in a dance as intimate as the touch. The kiss deepened, and his hand found its way to your belly, thumb caressing the life within with a reverence that had grown over the months. His connection to both you and the babe deepened in these moments, a bond visible in his every gentle touch and loving glance.

The babe responded to his touch with a small kick, a tiny but sure presence making itself known. You placed your hands over his.

Azriel broke the kiss to lower his head toward your belly. “Hi little one,” he murmured affectionately, his lips pressing a soft kiss there. Another kick met his greeting, a silent echo of recognition. “Were you good to your mama while dada was gone?” he asked, voice playful yet filled with genuine curiosity.

“They were fine, a little restless earlier today when we were out on a walk, but other than that, they’ve been quiet,” you answered, running your fingers through Azriel's hair, anchoring him close, his head cradled against your stomach.

Azriel wrapped his arms around your hips as you stayed there together for a moment. He pressed another kiss to your stomach before resting his chin atop your swollen belly looking up at you. You leaned forward and gave him a soft peck on the forehead. “Az,” you started.

“What, my love?” He asked back, smiling.

“I have to pee.” You said, pushing him back from you.

You hauled your body from the bed and scooted into the bathing room, hearing from over your shoulder, “You always have to pee.”

1K notes · View notes

afraidparade · 2 months ago

Text

"Violet Hyacinths"

(hi surprise bozo i decided to render this sketch and then also write an entire accompanying piece because. i love ghostswap and i love pathetic human pazu)

Characters: Theo & Pazu (Ghostswap AU) Word count: 5,233 Genre: G/t, Hurt/comfort, Angst Content warnings: Suicidal ideation, depicitions of CPTSD, abusive behavior

__________________________

Theo gazed in wonderment at the tremendous spread of flora covering the entirety of the table before him. Granted, at his size, everything seemed tremendous by comparison, but he assumed that the quantity and variety would surely be impressive to even a normal-sized human. Leisurely drifting between each specimen, he inspected them curiously. It was rare of him to be afforded alone time these days — Pazu usually demanded his accompaniment wherever he went, though dismissed him today, muttering something about “not wanting to be nagged when he was already in a bad mood” on his way to class — so the little specter drank in the tranquility while he could.

He briefly considered the irony of this moment he considered a respite, seeing as his existence up to this point had been so profoundly solitary, it had nearly driven him mad. Luck would have it that the only being – living or dead – on Earth that could actually understand him would take a discomforting amount of pleasure in seeing him suffer, but…beggars couldn’t be choosers, Theo supposed. And besides, it wasn’t all for nothing! Pazu had promised to exorcise him and finally set his weary soul free from this mortal plane. That willingness to help… eventually…meant that he had at least an ounce of goodness in the depths of his soul, right? So being the subject of a young man’s twisted whims in the meantime didn’t seem so bad compared to an eternity of loneliness. Sometimes. Usually.

A faint smile rose to Theo’s face as he hovered closer to a personal favorite of his. Several long stalks sat in a plain glass vase, each bursting at their peaks into concentrated puffs of small flowers with curved, pointed petals. To the best of his ability, he cupped one of the blossoms in his hands, though he only felt the faintest coolness of resistance as his palms phased through the corporeal object. At his diminutive size, just one of the small blossoms seemed about as big as he was. And though he lacked the lungs to inhale or the senses to smell, he mimicked the motion anyways. It was an act of hollow nostalgia for memories he didn’t possess, though it was nice to believe that he had done this in the life he must have once lived.

Recalling the names and attributes of all the floral species was difficult – especially when Pazu refused to share that information, as he seemed to interpret any pondering question from the ghost as some insurmountable burden not worthy of his precious time. But he recalled this one, as it was one that Pazu had finally relented to talking about after a long bout of nagging insistence: the hyacinth. Such a lovely name for such a lovely flower, he’d thought. And the dusty violet hue of this particular bloom was simply ethereal, though Theo sheepishly recognized that this could have been the effects of a personal bias, as he seemed to take on a spectrum of blues and purples within his own wispy form. He’d made his affections for the flower known at one point, to which he was met with a scoff and an, “I don’t see why. The scent gives me migraines, and the clusters are an eyesore.” Yet they remained a repeating staple in Pazu’s florism hobby, so perhaps he’d simply felt contrarian at the time.

As if on cue, Theo could hear the soft clunking of keys fidgeting with the main entrance, the swift opening swing of the dormitory door, and the even swifter slam that followed. The little wisp shot back from the object of his admiration rapidly, all too aware that Pazu would kill him (well, in a manner of speaking) if he was caught touching anything of value to the human. He’d expected to see the raven-haired man appear around the corner at any second, possibly with a narrowed, scrutinous gaze, already suspecting Theo of messing with his personal projects. Or perhaps with a mischievous smirk, all too eager to delve into yet another and all too hands-on “exorcism experiment.” Neither appeared. Nothing appeared. Come to think of it, had there even been any sounds at all since the calamitous abuse of the dormitory door? There certainly hadn’t been any footsteps, so perhaps Pazu had…opened the door, realized he’d forgotten something, and then left again?

Just as this reasoning began sounding like a solid theory in the ghost’s mind, a quiet noise from the small entryway caught his attention. From his current angle, it was beyond his line of sight, but it had sounded like…breathing? Or, maybe choking? Concern spiked within the little apparition’s spectral heart, prompting him to approach the wall corner that obstructed his view of the door.

“Er…Pazu? Is that you?” Theo called softly, words heavied by trepidation. In lieu of a verbal response, there were more of those muffled little noises, more noticeable now with the closer proximity, and increasing in sporadic frequency. This did little to assuage the specter’s worries, so he resolved to quicken his advance toward the entryway until he breached the border of his obstruction. He tried again, “Pazu?”

Well, it was certainly Pazu. Theo would be lying if he said he hadn’t, for a moment, thought that perhaps an intruder had broken in. But beyond recognizing the figure hunched against the back of the door, his understanding of the situation ended there. Opting for black clothes as he so often did, and with a fluffy tangle of short jet waves, Pazu’s crouched form resembled some sort of shambling shadow of a puddle, as he seemed to have taken up residence in a corner of the floor. Two bony hands clenched fiercely against his head — one grasping at the hair above his temple, the other clawing against the flesh of his face — and the only eye visible from within the dark mess of shadows and limbs and hair was blown wide, staring feverishly, unblinkingly, downwards into nothing.

Then Theo realized what the sounds he’d heard before were. ‘Breathing’ might not have been the proper term; they were more so airy spasms than they were proper breaths, wet and wheezing and incomplete. They wracked Pazu’s entire bundled frame, which, for the first time, appeared awfully small to the stunned ghost floating above.

For a long moment, Theo was stunned into silence. In the weeks (Months? His concept of time had eroded long ago) that he’d known Pazu, he’d known a collected, calculated, and confident force of better-than-you bitterness. And, sure, maybe he was prone to the occasional fits of awkwardness or a childish tantrum, but certainly not…this. It would have almost seemed dream-like in its absurdity, if only ghosts could dream. Thus, Theo forced himself to accept this disquieting sight as reality, pushed his apprehension as far down as it would go, and wafted cautiously into the entryway.

“Pazu! What- what happened to you?” Theo fretted, lowering himself to be within the trembling figure’s field of view. There was no reaction or intelligible response from the other, though it did seem for a moment as though Pazu had been attempting to quietly sound out words between fits of hyperventilation. His knees were tucked all the way up to his nose, subduing the already voiceless whimpers and blocking any attempt Theo could make at reading lips, but he swore he could make out a strained:

“Do… Doh… Don’t… Don’t…”

The worry on Theo’s features deepened as he began to wave an arm around, attempting again to catch the human’s attention. “Hey, come on! This isn’t like you, just…calm down and tell me what happened, okay?”

Still nothing. It had become a habit of Theo’s to hover just out of arm’s reach from Pazu, given the other’s tendency to pluck him out of the air and reduce his existence to a stress toy whenever he got bored. Now wasn’t the time to be wary of such impulses, though. The wisp inched closer, lacing his fingers together nervously as he approached the despondent giant.

“Did something happen?” he chanced the gentle query, only to be met with more formless whispers that remained void of any recognition.

Theo swallowed, then tried again.

“Did someone…hurt you?”

As if shocked back into reality, Pazu’s form went rigid and his visible eye shifted into alarmed focus, pinning itself on Theo in an instant. The ghost tensed reflexively, but no hand darted out to grab him this time. Instead, the noirette’s face scrunched into a vitriolic grimace at the sight of the other, before burying itself completely into a cradle of folded arms and tucked knees.

“Go away,” was all he muttered, but the bite of his words was choked away by a tightness in his throat, giving his voice an uneven half-spoken-half-whispered quality. Theo faltered, but didn’t comply with the command. Certainly, Pazu’s flaws were innumerable — and often intolerable — but goodness, Theo didn’t hate him. Leaving him in this state simply wasn’t an option, nor something he considered even briefly. Pazu’s hiccuping gasps still rattled the entirety of his thin frame, and despite him obscuring his face, his frantic partial sobs were still audible. Though this side of his personal tormentor was unfamiliar and confounding to him, Theo had already decided that this wasn’t something he could turn away from.

The little ghost steeled his resolve and pressed further. “I- I’m sorry. I know I’m probably not who you want to see right now. I mean, another human would probably be, ehm, better equipped to handle something like this, right? But I—“

“Go. Away,” Pazu repeated, louder, sharper, through gritted teeth. It appeared as though forcing out the warning took a great deal of strength from the hunched man, as his tremors intensified immediately after. Like a performer who’d been balancing on stilts for a terribly long time and, after straining to maintain a proper posture for so long, now teetered and trembled in a desperate attempt to keep from tumbling to the ground. “Just piss off. I don’t care where. Leave me alone and quit being a pest.”

Theo’s brows creased at the stinging words, but they did little to dissuade him. He reconsidered his approach for a moment. Right, less rambling this time. Straight to the point.

“I don’t want to leave you here,” his small voice affirmed decisively. The hiss of a sharp inhale came from the shambling mass of shadows, knuckles paling as he clawed harder at his scalp. Theo was close to him now, just inches from the twitching forearm that clamped his body tightly together. He reached a translucent hand outwards, unsure if the touch would soothe his living companion at all, but determined to try. Shifting to a gentler tone, Theo continued, “I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now, and maybe a dull little ghost like me won’t be able to understand it. But if you try opening up about it, well…maybe I could help in some way! If you just tell me what happened–”

And that’s when the clamp came undone, limbs unfurling explosively and swinging outward. Whether or not Pazu actually meant to strike Theo was debatable, but he had regardless, and with no small amount of force.

“Nothing happened!” he roared in a cracking retort, “Is that what you want to hear? Will that make you leave me the fuck alone?! Nothing! Literally, in every sense of the word, nothing happened!”

It took the dazed ghost several moments to reorient himself; he’d tumbled backwards through the air with a yelp once Pazu had swatted at him, colliding with the nearby wall at a momentum that was too great for him to pass through it. He hovered limply as he bade the world around him to stop spinning and shook his head in hopes of rattling his senses back into place. They did, eventually, and Theo was able to properly see the entirely foreign expression on the human’s face clearly now. His bloodshot eyes were wide and aimless, glistening with the remnants of tears that were now smudged in every direction across his cheeks. His jaw clenched into a trembling snarl, as if the words he’d spat were so unpalatable to him that they’d made his bile rise, and reddish streaks and indents burned angrily against the dark skin that he’d evidently been gripping rather fiercely.

“It was only a noise! Some vibrations in the air as someone dropped a— something, I don’t know! And that’s all it took for my stupid brain to produce some stupid chemical and activate some stupid instinct, and now I— I’m…!” His eyes welled up as the words died in his throat, and he gagged against them, before puling, “It’s all so stupid! It’s all nothing!”

“H-hey, woah! Whatever you’re feeling clearly isn’t ’nothing,’ Pazu!” Theo redoubled his efforts to reason with the student, already closing the distance that Pazu had created, “It’s okay to…to feel things, you know? I’m sure it doesn’t feel okay right this second, but if you’re sad, or angry, or scared, then—“

“Would you FUCK OFF already?!” Pazu shrieked the interruption as his hand scrabbled for whatever was closest to him — in this case, the phone that had tumbled out of his pocket — and in the same motion, hurled it with terrifying accuracy at the tiny specter. The projectile phased through his airy form (Thank the heavens, Theo prayed inwardly), but he flinched at the attack all the same, cringing doubly as he heard it smash against something delicate in its collision. He chanced a brief glance behind him to survey the damage, allowing a crestfallen breath to escape him at the sight of broken glass, a growing puddle, and a tangle of stems and damaged petals on the ground. For all the disdain Pazu seemed to harness regularly for just about anything and everything good in the world, his flowers maintained the privilege of being the only things he showed excessive care and tenderness for. Yet the calamitous shatter seemed to have no effect on him whatsoever. Perhaps he hadn’t even noticed it.

“Spouting all this asinine therapy-speak like you even care. Hah…ahah! I know you hate me!” Pazu’s voice had taken on a quavering mania as he chattered between rapid, uneven breaths, “And why wouldn’t you, right? Dug this grave my own damn self, right? Bet you enjoy seeing me writhe like some pathetic little insect, right?!”

“Pazu—!!”

“Everyone hates me, and everyone should. Hah, it’s— it’s so much better this way. The only reason anyone wants me around is to use me, but oh, oops! Turns out they can’t be bothered to put up with the ‘me’ they’re using. And you’re just like them, you know? U-using me just because I’m the only one you CAN use. Hah! It’s funny, isn’t it? A damn comedy! I genuinely can’t tell which of us got the worse deal out of all this, and you’re dead!”

His shoulders shuddered then, a sob at first. But when they persisted along with arhythmic puffs and wheezes, Theo realized that he had begun a strained, hybrid process of something between laughing and crying.

“And that’s the fucked up thing!” Pazu continued, voice fraught with a manic desperation, “I think about it sometimes. How much I envy you. How much simpler it would all be if I were dead. No need to try and play the same stupid, useless game as everyone else. None of those horrible, pesky memories to bog you down. Nothing to tie you to any responsibilities. Just…floating, free and alone.”

He sniffled then, an ugly sound. “World’d probably be better off if I were a ghost instead. Not like anyone actually wants me around.”

There was a heavy pause. Theo’s hands clenched unsurely, measuring his next words with considerable trepidation, and Pazu kept his gaze lowered and obscured.

“…Pazu—“

“Shut up. I’m not actually about to kill myself.”

“What? No, I wasn’t— I mean, that’s good, of course! But…” he dared to inch closer then, drifting forward while the other consciously averted his gaze. The spirit sighed, abandoning his jumbled words and starting again, “Look, I know you’re not particularly keen on taking my advice. And it’s not that I can blame you — I, ah, don’t exactly have lived experience to draw back on — but regardless. Please at least listen when I say this.”

“Once you’re dead, that’s all there is. You’ve no future, no potential for change. Being a ghost isn’t some sort of grand ‘round two’ where you get to try everything over again, Pazu. It’s…perpetuity. Stagnation. Regret you can never, ever act on. But– but being alive!” Theo’s face lit up in a weary smile, as if suddenly realizing his somber tone may be resulting in the opposite of his intended effect, “Being alive means always having the opportunity to strive for something better. To change, and to grow!”

“And look, I can’t possibly know what you’re going through right now, or understand what you…might have been through before…a-and it’s not my intention to pry. But as long as you’re alive, you’ll always have the promise of waking up to a brand new day. Ah…this all probably doesn’t mean much coming from a dead guy, huh?” he added with a sheepish chuckle, “I guess I just…I want you to know that I’m here. And I may not say the right things, but you can always talk to me if something is troubling you, okay?”

Pazu huffed, lifting his reddened gaze again with an almost insulted incredulity. “‘Always?’ Don’t patronize me. The only reason you’re still with me is to ultimately get away from me. I’m not an idiot. I don’t need your conditional altruism.”

Theo smiled sadly. That wasn’t something he could deny, and they both knew it. “That…is the arrangement, yes,” he spoke slowly, measuring his words with great care, “I’m not supposed to exist as I am now in the first place, and I get the feeling I shouldn’t stay. But today — right here, right now — I am here. And if you only focus on a future you’ve already decided is empty, you’ll never realize what’s here with you in your ‘now.’ You’re not alone, Pazu.”

He drifted closer, trying again to reach out a small, wispy hand. “You don’t have to be alone.”

“Touch me and I swear I’ll find a way to kill you a second time.”

The threat felt tired, and lacked any real bite.

“I think I’ll take my chances.”

Theo rested his palms softly against the other’s face. Despite his verbal reluctance, Pazu didn’t stop him. It was strange, the wisp thought; every other corporeal object felt like near nothing. Tangible static, at most. Maybe it was due to the mysterious paranormal abilities the human possessed, but Theo could actually feel him at the touch. He was warm — a rather foreign sensation to the lifeless wisp at this point— and though it seemed that he’d regained most of his senses, Theo could feel the aftershocks of a full-body tremble beneath his palms every so often.

Admittedly, the disparity in size and power between the two had made Pazu out to be some omnipotent giant in Theo’s mind. This entire time, he had merely been subjected to the whim of hands larger than the entirety of his spectral form, and any attempts at reasoning with him were either sneered at or flat-out ignored. In this moment of vulnerability, though, any trace of that looming threat seemed wholly nullified. For the first time in Theo’s existence, Pazu was just a normal human.

It was a strange thing, trying to cradle the face of someone a hundred times larger than oneself. The best Theo could manage was resting his hands against either side of the bridge of Pazu’s nose, tracing calm circles occasionally, and even daring to touch his own forehead to the other’s. He could feel a piercing glare affixed to him — bloodshot, glistening, and swirling with emotions Theo couldn’t understand — but he elected to ignore this, closing his own eyes instead and focusing on his efforts to subdue his volatile counterpart.

“I’ll leave when the time is right, Pazu. But for now, I’m here with you. And regardless of what you believe my motives are or how you think I regard you, I don’t want to see you hurting. You don’t deserve this,” he soothed. Pazu clenched his jaw, but didn’t respond. “You’ll get through this. I know you can. Just take some deep breaths and try to relax yourself, okay?”

There was a prolonged pause — perhaps an inward battle as Pazu debated how petulant he was willing to be in that exact moment — before he eventually relented and reluctantly followed the specter’s instructions. He breathed against his palm, still clasping at his face, and continued until ragged gasps eased into slow, tired puffs. His shoulders dropped slowly as Theo continued to calm him, and a sobered exhaustion eventually replaced the manic vitriol in his features.

It was quiet. It was over. And neither seemed to know what happened next.

It was after several moments of this peaceful uncertainty that Theo could hear the rustling of movement, and could subsequently feel a warmth against his back, delicate at first. A glance over his shoulder revealed that Pazu had raised a hand to pinch Theo’s frame between his forefinger and thumb, and at first, the ghost was foolish enough to believe it might have been the larger’s approximation of a hug. But then the grip tightened and applied forward pressure, eliciting an undignified squeak from the ghost as he’d suddenly been reduced to little more than a spectral rag. Pazu dragged him along as one would a tissue, swiping away the moisture from his face with little care for the other’s panicked wriggling, before eventually dismissing him with a flick of his wrist and a disinterested, “Get off of me.”

It took Theo a great deal of weightless tumbling and wobbling to find his footing (so to speak) after being tossed aside, the unexpected ordeal disorienting him thoroughly. Pazu began rising to his feet as the ghost was left shaking the wet residue from his limbs, frowning at its unwillingness to piece apart from his body.

“Ugh— Pazu, really! You couldn’t have used your sleeve, or – I don’t know – anything that wasn’t me?! Do you realize how hard it is to clean yourself off when water phases right through your—“

“God, shut up already. My head is killing me,” Pazu grumbled, sounding much more like his usual self already, albeit somewhat exhausted. He had strode to the scene of broken glass and scattered flowers, narrowing his eyes and huffing a sigh as he collected his impromptu projectile. He turned the phone over in his hands a few times, seemingly checking for notable damage. Based on his lack of reaction to the object, Theo assumed that it had, at least, come out of the tantrum relatively unscathed.

“Somehow, you’re so annoying that it’s legitimately sobering. I’m almost impressed.”

“Oh? Oh!” Theo’s face lit up as he considered the remark, his previous gripe dissipating as even the bluish glow of his form seemed to intensify with his delight, “Thank you!”

“That—“ Pazu spun around with an expression of blank bewilderment. “That wasn’t a compliment, you freak.”

——————

The dormitory door clattered open noisily as its resident shouldered past it, staggering slightly as he hauled a hefty-looking plastic bucket into the living space and snickering to himself all the while. The glowing speck trailing him — perceptible to his eyes only — appeared much less amused, striking a deep frown and fretting his hands in jittery, nervous motions.

“Pazu!” the ghost chastised in a quavering tone, “You mustn’t speak to others that way — especially when they’re your peers, and doubly so when they manage your living situation! You should go back and apologize to that young man right away!”

Pazu snorted, kicking the door behind him closed with a haphazard, unbalanced motion. “Oh, please. The RA can’t actually do anything to me. He just likes going on power trips and yelling at anything that moves.”

“But you didn’t have to bring his mother into it!”

He shrugged, flashing a toothy, self-congratulatory grin. “Well, he’s the one who overreacted over a tiny bit of spilt water in the hallway. I don’t escalate, Teddy; I just give what I get.”

Theo groaned, throwing a worried glance to the door again, as if the dormitory RA would come bursting through with an eviction notice at any moment. It wasn’t as though he personally needed a roof over his head, but Pazu losing his home would surely cause even further delays to his research in exorcism, a process that already seemed to be taking quite some time. And for goodness sake, Theo did care about the boy. Not that Pazu ever made it easy to do so.

A ruckus from within the dormitory drew the wisp’s attention back to his living counterpart. The bucket — apparently a special order Pazu had placed with the wholesaler that he normally sourced his flowers from — had sloshed more puddles onto the floor as a struggle to lift it onto the table ensued. Thank goodness the delicate blossoms had been covered by a thin, opaque tarp cinched gently around the stems, Theo marveled, as he was certain that half of their petals would have been knocked clean off by now. The obscured flowers did leave him to wonder what plans Pazu had that required buying a single variant in such bulk, as he tended to source from a variety of species with a preference for more petite arrangements. It was nice to see him like this again, though; since the other day’s bizarre outburst, Pazu had seemed quieter than usual, and at times it even felt as if he was outright avoiding Theo. Though the recent vulgarity and mischief wasn’t exactly soothing, the familiarity of his old personality was comforting, and witnessing the resurfacing of the passion he held for his flowers eased Theo’s anxieties in some small way.

In the time it took for the tiny specter to drift across the room to the table, Pazu had finally managed to settle his haul on its surface, his lanky frame deflating slightly from the effort.

“So…what did you end up getting this time?” Theo queried, assuming his typical position of hovering just above the noirette’s shoulder. He’d been staring down at the covered bundle of flora, but after a gap of silence with no response, he turned to glance at the face beside him, only to realize he was being stared at. Pazu’s visible eye was widened, yet blank, and just as Theo had begun to wonder if he’d somehow said something to upset him, he cleared his throat.

“It’s…not really any of your business. I don’t even particularly like this one, so I don’t even know why I’m bothering with it— I mean, maybe you’ll like it, since you have terrible taste and all. Not that I got them for you, obviously,” Pazu stammered in a way that was very unlike him. He picked at the twist tie securing the protective tarp slowly, his thin fingers rigid and clumsy as if stricken with sudden stage fright, then clicked his tongue and muttered, “Ugh, why’d you have to draw attention to it? This would’ve been easier if you weren’t so nosy—“

Both the living and dead occupants of the dorm flinched in shock at a sudden banging at the door. The muffled voice of the RA carried through the barrier, prattling on sternly about needing to speak to Pazu immediately and how “this was the last time” and other such heated threats. The subject of the summons gave a mildly frustrated huff, whereas Theo launched himself into a full-blown panic.

“See?! I told you to apologize! Now you’ve gone and gotten yourself evicted!” the spirit caterwauled, eliciting an exasperated roll of the eyes from the giant beside him.

“Cool it, Tedster. He said it was the last time last time, and I had him crying three minutes into our little chat,” Pazu muttered. A wicked smirk snaked its way across his face as he added in a hushed, sing-song snicker, “Bet’cha I can get it down to two.”

He yanked the plastic sheet away from the bucket as he walked towards the entrance, crumpling it into a messy bundle and tossing it haphazardly into a corner, presumably to be dealt with later. Theo began to drift after him, already dreading the idea that he’d likely end up as Pazu’s makeshift fidget toy again (he tended to meet this fate any time Pazu needed to deal with what he deemed to be an aggravating situation, which was…admittedly, quite often), but he was halted by the dismissive wave of a hand.

“Stay here. I can only handle a single goody-two-shoes talking my ear off about ‘responsibility’ and ‘morality’ at a time.” There was a high-pitched lilt to the words he emphasized, and Theo was certain that it was an attempt at mocking his own lectures. He would have been keen to point out that he, in fact, sounded nothing like that, but kept his mouth shut. As Pazu neared the door, he made a low noise as if he’d just recalled something, then turned and pointed an accusatory finger at his undead captive. “And don’t touch my flowers. I swear to God, if I come back and see you getting your gross dead-ness on them again, I’ll—“

“You’ll find a way to kill me a second time. Yes, I recall,” Theo finished the threat, almost dutifully. He hadn’t meant it as a means of back talk, but upon realizing it may have come across as such to Pazu (and reminding himself for the umpteenth time to think before he speaks, damn it!), he stiffened, bracing for an icy glare that promised later punishment. But the student’s expression was surprisingly blank, lacking even the faintest trace of hostility. He blinked, glancing at the bundle on the table, then back to Theo.

“Um…right,” he replied, then simply, “Thanks.”

And this was what utterly confounded Theo beyond anything else he’d seen as of late. It seemed an odd response to their banter, and completely out of character for the normally cold-hearted recluse. Come to think of it, had Pazu ever thanked him for…well, anything? Why now?

The door gap in the doorway narrowed in Pazu’s absence, and the beginnings of a royal chewing out could be heard (Theo could just barely make out a “You know I can hear you talking to yourself, right?”). Though as it finally clicked shut and the spirit was left in silence, it dawned on him that he’d never gotten a good look at the flowers beneath the now discarded tarp. Madly curious as to what could have possibly sparked such odd behaviors in his living counterpart, Theo turned his attention back to the table. And then he understood. A beaming smile rose to his face, and the spectral aura around his form glowed a bit brighter.

The container before him was practically overflowing with petals now freed from their restrictive covering, each hyacinth a bursting with a dazzling violet hue. He would never know — he would never be bold enough to ask, really — but Theo felt certain now that he knew what the earlier thanks had been for.

#idk how i feel about either of these pieces. but HEY i finished something #grah writing my number one enemy #ghostswap au #oc: theo #oc: pazu #g/t #g/t ocs #giant/tiny #g/t writing #size difference #writingtag #hurt/comfort #gt community

253 notes · View notes

jstor · 1 month ago

Note

JSOTR why do you make your research locked behind a subscription? So much knowledge, lost forerver…

Hi there. We often receive questions like this, so we'd like to provide some clarity here (we have a few previous posts on here about this that are a bit outdated). Scholarly publishing and the hosting of said published content is complicated, and we see how it can appear complex from the outside.

JSTOR doesn’t own the content hosted on-platform. We're not a publisher ourselves. We’re a mission-driven nonprofit that works with publishers like university presses and scholarly societies, and we pay licensing fees to host their scholarship. Those fees go back to support scholars, editors, and academic publishing as a whole.

Institutional and personal subscriptions helps us pay those fees, digitize and preserve physical materials, maintain reliable access for millions of users, and serve libraries and students around the world—including institutions in Africa (free access), low-income countries (near-free), and correctional facilities. Our role is to make these troves of knowledge more discoverable and accessible. In many cases, hosting an item on JSTOR actually helps to ensure it isn't lost to the ages or left in storage.

Over the years, we've worked to make more items on JSTOR free to access. So far, that includes:

Open access journals and ebooks you can read and download

More than 664,000 articles published before 1923 in the U.S. (and before 1870 elsewhere)

8.5+ million articles available for free online reading when you register for a free account

Collections from Artstor, collections shared by colleges, universities and museums, and Reveal Digital’s alternative press newspapers, magazines, and activist journals

A growing number of open research reports

Articles that connect scholarship to current events and cultural contexts via JSTOR Daily

Scholarly monographs in our Path to Open pilot program, where titles from university presses are accessible to participating libraries immediately and become open access three years after publication

Plus, there are a few additional ways you can access the articles you find on JSTOR:

Some institutions offer alumni access to JSTOR

Many public libraries provide access to JSTOR

Often, authors of articles will send them to you if you contact them directly

We should also mention: JSTOR doesn’t have full control over the access terms for most of the scholarship we host. That’s up to the publishers who own the rights. These partners play a vital role in creating and curating scholarship, and we work closely with them to make as much available as possible while respecting the sustainability of their work.

All the above is to say that JSTOR is just one part of a much larger publishing ecosystem. We’re committed to our values and to doing our part in preserving the scholarly record, making as much of it available as we can. We have a team of over 350 people hard at work on article intake, metadata, search functionality, support, and more.

There’s already a lot you can explore for free, some without a log-in and even more with a free account. Start here if you’re curious!

#jstor #ask #i hope this is helpful!#edit: corrected a stray “an” that should've been “a”

395 notes · View notes

faesdreaming · 7 months ago

Text

𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐥𝐞𝐭’𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐱 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

────────────────────────

content warnings: yandere themes/behaviours, possessiveness, forced companionship, threatened self harm (not reader), reader can be read as afab or amab

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆:

His royal highness, your sworn liege. You swore an oath, forever binding yourself and your service to him. Knights, of course, he has a plenty. But you? You’re different. Special. He sits above all upon his throne. The burden of his crown is a heavy toll. And unlike the other knights he has in his command, you don’t simply act to obey.

You’re his most trusted advisor alongside being his most loyal soldier. You act to soothe his woes and offer insight. You traverse not just his kingdom but many others on your journey, enabling you to provide a different and rather refreshing perspective. Knights are made to uphold values of honour, loyalty, and nobility but the King has never met one quite as earnest as you.

He remembers the day you were knighted. How you knelt before him and pleaded your eternal loyalty. It’s a fond memory, one he replays whenever your admirers fawn over you or when you go on quests. It acts as a balm to soothe the possessive jealousy that rears its head. And how he loathes your seemingly never ending desire to go on quests. Certainly, before you endeared yourself to him, he hadn’t cared. Attain glory, uphold your honour. It is what knights are meant to do.

Alas, now, he cannot help but detest when you leave. His attempts at making you stay only delay it slightly longer. His orders for your aid, for your company all interrupted by the endless demands for your talents. It drives him mad. You’ve won more than enough glory. You’ve proven your honour and how noble you are countless times.

Stay with him, he’ll grant you every knight’s dream. A castle, large and built with grandeur. And what better castle than his palace? He’ll construct an entire wing, or perhaps an entirely new palace for you. He’ll shower you in all the gold and jewels you could ever want and more. He’ll throw the grandest of feasts and balls in celebration. Whatever your heart desires.

Or perhaps he’ll lock you away in a tower as all mad kings tend to do. Keep his knight all to himself, dressed in the finest silks and draped in exuberant jewelry. Oh, but you’d hate him wouldn’t you? Eyes once filled with shining loyalty showing nothing but contempt and bringing him despair. He couldn’t take it. Yet, he’s slowly and surely waning. Look at what you’ve done to him. Your mighty king beholden to your wishes.

He’s desperate, hungry, yearning for you. His knight, his soldier, his advisor, his confidant. His. Heed his commands, won’t you? For even the kindest rulers committed the worst atrocities when driven mad, and you’ve certainly ignited his descent.

“𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠.”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒:

The loveliest damsel across the lands, her highness, the princess. Locked away in a tower by an evil wizard, waiting to be saved by you. Her gallant knight. Do you know how long she’s awaited your arrival? It’s to be expected, of course. Princesses being kidnapped by evil wizards, dragons and other malevolent entities are a common occurrence. As is a knight saving them. It’s destiny.

Certainly other knights have tried before. But all perished at the hands of the wizard who abducted her when she was but a girl and locked her away. She was beginning to think it was hopeless until you came along. Silly her, she knows how it goes. Damsels are saved by honourable knights, then, they live happily ever after. Her entire life she has waited to be saved by you. And now that you have, you’ll wed her of course!

Except you don’t. You refuse to, politely declining her advances. She doesn’t understand. Do you not know how these stories are meant to end? She’s supposed to be your reward, your prize for your heroic deeds. But then, you tell her she’s not a reward, eyes shining earnestly. And oh, even that doesn’t make her fall harder.

No one has ever afforded her autonomy before, she’s always been an object, a prize. It’s like a switch is turned. Suddenly, it’s not a duty, but a desire. She needs you to be by her side. You’re the only person who sees her for who she is.

The princess grows obsessive. She wants to be with you and will do anything to achieve it. Thus, she schemes. She fakes kidnappings and attempted assassinations, all conveniently timed and placed so you’ll be the one to save her. Yes, it may be a tad suspicious but you wouldn’t question her. She’s a hapless damsel and you’re a noble knight, after all.

Of course, she’s not the only damsel you’ve ever saved. She isn’t the first either. But the princess is determined to be the last. Whatever true dangers that require your skills will be shoved to the side when she grows more dramatic with her plots to gain your attention. You must see she’s in need of you. Always in danger. She needs you by her side to protect her.

And if you still refuse to be with her? The princess will have no other option than to take the most drastic measures. You’ll find her up at the edge of the top of the castle’s towers. Dagger poised above her chest, plump eyelashes wet with tears, and a wobbly bottom lip. But in her eyes, all you can see is the madness only lovesick lass could have. She can’t live without you. Thus, you must choose: to be with her or to have the crushing guilt of her death haunt for eternity. Either way, you will hers. Whether through life or death.

“𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧��𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨.”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐃:

The fiercest creature known to man, the dragon lord is your natural enemy. He is able to shift from dragon to man in a matter of seconds. Not that it matters, of course. For all knights will fall to his prowess. Then, you come along. At first, the dragon lord dismisses you as yet another fool attempting to slay him. He sighs, bored. Stupid mortals and their useless prides. Did they not understand they would never be able to win? He is the best of both worlds, the mightiest of dragons and men.

Yet, you don’t. You don’t try to slay him. You don’t try to steal his treasures. You reason with him. Your sword is a powerful tool, but you’re a reputed charmer for a reasons. Your words are crafted from a silver tongue. There isn’t a hint of the usual arrogance that men of your station usually hold. This intrigues him. Genuineness is something he hasn’t encountered for centuries. Especially not from a mortal. So, he entertains you. He leaves the village he’s terrorizing, not because he’s swayed by your words, more so you amused him. Yes, that’s it. He returns to his cove of golden treasures, not anticipating to waste a single moment thinking back on you.

Unfortunately for the dragon lord, you plague his mind. He’s an old creature, far older than even your kingdom. And he’s been so very bored for so very long. It leads to him shifting into his human form to gain more information. Only to sate his curiosity, though. Certainly not for any other reason.

His interest is once again peaked when he hears tales of your immense talent. You were holding back against him, weren’t you? Oh, how vexing you are. A simple knight, daring to try and swindle the dragon lord. And how vexing it is for him to have fallen for your coy act. It should irritate him far more than it does. But he’s lacked true companionship for so long. Dragons are a dying species and mortals are unworthy. Well, except for you.

Yes, you’d make a suitable companion. The dragon lord decides that you are his new companion and sets off to find you. Shifting back into his dragon form, he scours the land for you. Upon recognizing your scent, the dragon lord swoops down and nabs your unsuspecting form. You try and protests but he’s far too strong and large for you to fight off. He flies you back to his trove of treasures. The dragon lord sets you amongst his precious possessions, at the center, of course. For you are the most precious of all.

You’re smart, aware you cannot escape him with strength. So you try with wit. You bide time, keep him entertained and try to slip out. It’s a process you repeat multiple times, with the dragon lord catching you each time. He’s never cross with you, if anything, he’s amused. You truly are entertaining. The dragon lord will never take your attempts seriously. You’re a game to him. You may be his companion, but you’re more akin to a bird in a cage than an equal. You’re still his possession, after all. He’s a dragon lord, possessive instincts demanding he hoards you away from everything and keep you all to himself.

“𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞.”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇:

The mistress of the black arts, the witch doesn’t expect to fall for someone such as yourself. She doesn’t expect to fall for anyone at all. Witches are, by nature, deceitful. They are beautiful and cruel. They engage in the dark arts. However, they are not all pure evil. Some have a modicum of compassion in their hearts. And you seem to draw out hers. Perhaps it’s because she’s known you since childhood. Before you were a glorious knight and she an infamous witch, you two were just children with seemingly impossible dreams and the weight of the world on your shoulders. But time changes things, it’s made what should be enemies out of you by the nature of your positions. Yet she cannot bring herself to hate you.

Not when you are truly noble, as knights are supposed to be. She’s encountered many a proclaimed knight in her time. All eager to vanquish her. Yet they all fail. And they all contribute to her disdain towards the blinded citizens of kingdom and the selfish aristocracy. What are knights but dogs to the nobility and monsters to the innocents? She’s seen knights and paladins set villages ablaze, slaughter innocents in the name of either their king or their whims. All knights disgust her. All except you, of course.

You’re her dreamer. You’re her innocence. You’re still the same person who believed in fairytales and noble values because you uphold them. That’s why you’re so beloved. By everyone, but most of all, her. You’ve never turned on her. You understand her nature as not evil. You even go as far as to bring her potion ingredients. She’s your dearest companion. The witch relishes in the thrall she has over you. In the thrall you have over her. You two, bound by mutual past, shall be intertwined in the future.

The witch strives to protect you. She patches up every wound you receive, regardless of how small, with her potion brews. She enchants a charm to ensure your safety— and if it happens to allow her to watch over her at all times, then it’s only because she wishes to keep you safe. And perhaps she may curse her rivals for your affection, so what? A light hex never hurt anyone. She’s indefinitely more relaxed than your other options, though. Witches, while some join covens, prefer independence. She would never want to stifle you.

So, the witch does what she does best. She casts curses and creates enchantments to keep you out of harms way. You may embark on your quests, you may indulge in your whims, but she is certain you will always return to her. And if you don’t? Well, she is a master of the dark arts. She can easily summon you and tether you to her. But she won’t. Probably.

Overall, the witch is concerned about your safety. She may guard you from a distance, but she guards you viciously. You are the only connection to her past, you are the only one who understands her. She cannot bear to lose you to anyone or anything.

“𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞, 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜.”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍:

A rival, a friend, an equal. This is what they are to you. The paladin, once a squire alongside you, now a sworn knight of the Holy Order. How your paths have differed. Yet, in some ways, you remain the same. Namely, the competition between you. The paladin is always one step behind, has been since your days as a squire. You best them at spars, at races both on horse and foot, in accolades as well. They’re a paladin, and yet, you receive more recognition than them. It drives them mad. You drive them mad.

For one, they should be above the petty jealousy you stir. They should be satisfied with their status. But they are not. They always compare themself to you. They want so desperately to share the light you unwittingly bask in. Alas, none of it is for them. They resent you, they loathe you. Even worse, they respect you. Beyond your skill, you’re the paradigm of a true knight. You’re noble and good-hearted in a cruel world. You’re pure in a way no one else is. It inspires nothing but admiration. The paladin has admired you since your shared youth, they even tried to convince you to take up the Holy Vows

They’ve yet to succeed, but they won’t stop trying. After all, you’re all they’ve been chasing after. You’re the peak they seek. They train relentlessly to improve. Not to become your equal, but to become your better. They want to surpass you, to prove themselves worthy. They want you to look at them the way they’ve looked at you. The paladin wants to be the center of your world.

They work tirelessly. And yet, you always seem to far away. Their obsession grows deeper, more dangerous. The more attention you gain, the more desperate they become. How can the paladin reach you if you’re so far away? It calls for more drastic measures. Perhaps sabotaging your reputation, or ruining your quests. Ensuring you have no one to turn to beside them. Maybe even a maiming is in order, something to incapacitate you and keep you in the paladin’s grasp.

Don’t worry. They’ll be worthy someday. Until then, the paladin will watch from afar, stewing with jealousy and yearning. Be careful though. One wrong move could have the paladin turning towards the more unsavoury means of attaining you. They’d be remiss to, of course, but they cannot let you slip from their hold.

“𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧, 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬.”

────────────────────────

a/n: I’m back, from a very long hiatus. Special thanks to @forbidden-sunlight for motivating me to get back into writing :)

more yandere fae + new works coming soon

#yandere x reader #yandere romance #yandere headcanons #yandere #tw yandere #yandere drabble #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere oneshots

508 notes · View notes

legendarymarketer · 1 year ago

Text

Unbounce, ClickBank, and Google Ads Exposed – The Hidden Truth Revealed!

youtube

**Discover the Truth Behind Unbounce, ClickBank, and Google Ads – A Critical Insight for Digital Marketers** Hey, I'm Anders Larsson, and *today's video is an* eye-opener for anyone navigating the intricate landscape of online marketing. We're diving headfirst into "Unbounce, ClickBank, and Google Ads Exposed – The Hidden from what this video will be aboutTruth Revealed!" *If you're feeling lost or overwhelmed* with choosing the right platforms and techniques, this revelation is crucial for you. Watch the video to know the full story....

#Marketing Tips #Digital Marketing Tips #Value-Driven Marketing #Building Trust Online #Diversifying Your Online Presence #Authentic Content Creation #Youtube

0 notes

kabr0ztrousers · 7 days ago

Note

A shy chubby fem reader is looking for a job and is offered one by a well built demon. He's looking for another maid for his mansion and he's offering ridiculous sums of money. It's too good to be true and it sorta is? It's still a maid job and she is still getting paid very well but like the rest of the servants she has to dress in a really slutty outfit and be a free use toy for himself and any guests.

Her first day on the job?

Bouncing on her boss’s cock while he and his associates (who are also fucking the staff) are enjoying the view.

Kabr0z Writes Episode 137: Employment Hell

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes Anthology here!

Ao3!

CWs: initial dubcon; enthusiastic content; size difference; oral sex; demons; mild religious themes; mild alcohol use; sex work; excessive cum; cum inflation

A/N: This one almost reached 2600 words, and took literally all day. Have fun with it :D

###########################################

You'd think Hell would be a pretty shitty place to live, and you'd be right. Though, you might be surprised when you get down here. Turns out the whole Hieronymus Bosch schtick isn't so popular any more. There's a finite number of demons, and the sheer quantities of the damned are overwhelming. If they were to actually do the job, each demon would be personally responsible for the torment of over ten thousand souls and counting at best guess. That's not considering the impossible task of taking a census in a realm that is literally infinite. Demons are a lot of things: avaricious, impulsive, lustful, but above all indolent. Supposedly, they're the army of Hell, poised to invade and wreak havoc across creation. In practice, they're a bunch of hedonists. Some greater authority makes sure the real nasty bastards get their due, and many of the more violent demons absolutely get their rocks off in the pursuit of that duty, but most demons were perfectly happy in an endless stream of orgies and alcohol.

So the eternal punishment takes another form. It just so happens that it's the exact same varietal of low-grade misery that exists every day for millions of the living. Unless you want to live completely off the grid, rent needs paying, so many people have a job, or live with someone who does. In theory it was a similar level of awful as up above, in practice food is strictly a luxury, as is shelter. If you don't mind couch surfing, you could live in relative ease. Everyone knows that of course, so the actual jobs tend to be less "extracting value from labour" and more "thinly veiled excuses"

When you applied for a job, you didn't know this. Freshly damned and with nothing to your name but the clothes you died in and a glossy pamphlet entitled "Welcome to Hell!" containing the contact information for a few places where you might find a cheap bed, flanked on all sides by dozens of adverts for everything from obscure streaming services to almost every imaginable sexual proclivity for sale. You found a number for a recruitment agency, clinging to the corner of the document, just below an image of a demon spreading her drooling cunt whilst holding her impressively knotted cock.

You begged a coin off a stranger for the payphone and called the number, a bored voice answered your questions. Yes, it's regular work. No, you're not going to be hurt. Yes, most of it is housemaid work. Uniform is provided, as is a room in the manor where you'll be working. Your first shift can be this evening if you like. The voice gave you an address, even called you a cab to get there. You'd find out more about the job when you got to where you're going and the head maid gave you more information.

The taxi arrived, driven by a short-haired man in a flat cap who regaled you on the best places to eat, the best bars in town, when to avoid driving, even some of the nicer demons you might meet out and about. He reassured you, sure, you're in Hell, but generally folks were no worse here than up above, just a lot less pious about things.

He dropped you at the mansion. It looked like an old-money townhouse, the kind of thing you'd see in central London, a large square detached house complete with decorated friezes a gate out front and a woman dressed in a skimpy maid outfit waving at you

"Hi! You're the new hire, I bet?"

You nodded and introduced yourself to her

"Good, good! I'll show you inside and get you a uniform, do you prefer men's clothes or women's? Never mind, I'll give you a couple of sets of each. You'll be refreshments for tonight's soiree, so no need to worry about cleaning anything for now, just get comfy in your room, we'll go over some ground rules while you're living here and make sure you're all set for tonight"

You allowed yourself to be led inside. Serving refreshments doesn't seem too bad, you'd worked behind a bar for a while in life, and the skills don't get all that rusty. The house was surprisingly bright and spacious, marble tiled floors, plush furniture, art hanging on the walls, even the stairs down to the servant's quarters were well lit and maintained, individual rooms were afforded for every member of the household staff. Sure it's a bit of a shoebox but a room like this would set you back 3 grand a month in London's zone 1, so you're not complaining.

House rules were simple enough too. The duty roster is 4 on 4 off, if you're not working in the morning you're not expected back, guests are permitted but must be signed in and enter via the servant's entrance at the rear of the house. She set out a pair of uniforms on your bed. One was similar to hers, a French maid dress if it'd been through several tailors each one directed to make it shorter, more revealing. You held it up to you, it barely covered your ass, the tops of the stockings would be clearly visible, and you'd never be more than one wrong move from your tits falling out. The men's outfit was almost worse, somewhere between butler and stripper, made of leather straps and sporting totally assless trousers. You put away the maid outfit, indicating to your new manager you weren't going to need the men's attire.

"I thought you might say that, but sometimes people surprise you. Go ahead and get settled. There's a book with everything you'll need to know in the drawer. Oh, and before I forget, your safeword is epsilon, like the Greek letter"

Safeword? Nice to know you have one, but you hadn't thought you'd signed up for that kind of job. You shrugged and sat back on the bed, the mattress was a little firm, but not uncomfortable. You lay back and took a handbook out of the drawer. The master of the house was called Ankhayat, he had a whole page dedicated to his list of titles and epithets, but if unsure, you were simply instructed to refer to him as "Dominus"

Your heart sank as you read on. You had apparently misheard when you thought you would be providing refreshments. You were to be refreshments, namely to swan around looking pretty until a demon decided they liked the look of you and claimed you for the evening. Like everything else down here, this job revolved around sex, and you were on the menu.

You sat back on the bed, contemplating your next steps. You’d been promised that you wouldn’t be hurt, and they had given you a safeword, presumably that worked the same down here as up there. The pay was good, and the room was clean. The handbook even went over the process of cleaning the house, such as it is, that mostly boiled down to running a duster across surfaces and bending over a lot., Your job wasn’t being a maid so much as it was eye candy. You didn’t mind that so much, but you couldn’t help dwelling on your trepidation as the appointed hour neared. Every time you checked the clock it seemed to have jumped, time ticking down until you had to put on the dress and walk up the steps to the cigar lounge where they’d be waiting for you.

You changed. The dress clung to you in ways you weren’t expecting, though you’d later learn the fabric itself it enchanted. No matter which way you twisted or turned your tits stayed put. You could bend over and the skirt would just so happen to fall in the perfect way to accentuate your ass without showing too much. Even the underwear was bewitched, riding up in the perfect way to show off your ass and create a perfect camel toe, while being so comfortable you’d forget you were wearing them. On the one hand, it was nice that you wouldn’t have an unexpected wardrobe malfunction. On the other, it was another reminder of exactly why you were there, to be ogled, and then to be claimed for an evening.

Motion outside your door broke you out of your thoughts. Your new colleagues moving down the hallway. You joined the rush, another woman smiled at you, sensing your unease. You felt her hand on your shoulder “Don’t worry, Ank’s nice really. Just don’t be put off by the big horns” The rest of the staff offered similar advice, each one having gone through something similar on their first day. It helped calm the shaking in your hands, but the butterflies still fluttered in your stomach.

The group stood at the foot of the stairs, above was a door in a panelled wall, near invisible from the corridor above. Before you stood the head maid, it occurred to you you never caught her name. She looked over the group and smiled “Looking good, everyone. Remember, if anyone gives you trouble, find me. Don’t be afraid to take some air if you need it, and we’ve got a newbie today so keep an eye on her if you can so she doesn’t get overwhelmed. Have fun out there” She stepped aside and the group started up the stairs. You caught her giving you a thumbs-up as you passed, grinning from ear to ear.

The cigar lounge was exactly as you’d have pictured a room with that name to look. Narrow windows flanked a large fireplace, small tables contained ashtrays and decanters of amber liquid, demons of all shapes and sizes lounging in high-backed chairs, most smoking, some holding hands of cards, some playing dice. You recognised Ankhayat from the descriptions you’d been given. Broad-chested, red skinned, curved ram’s horns on his head, deep scars on his cheeks. He was wearing a smoking jacket fastened about the waist and dark velvet trousers. He was looking straight at you. You milled around the room with the others, topping off glasses, engaging in light conversation, but even as your colleagues were finding themselves being picked up by attendees, nobody asked you, until you got within Ankhayat’s long reach.

You felt his hand rest on your ass. You turned to him, and he pulled you towards him by your waist “So,” he began, speaking in a low, deep voice “How are you enjoying your first day?”

You blushed, turning your head a little until his hand cupped your cheek, turning your gaze back to him “It’s not exactly what I expected, a lot more fucking, a lot less housework”

He smiled at you, “Nobody’s touched you yet, what do you say about giving me that honour?”

Your blush deepened as you stepped into his embrace. You sat on his lap, one of his hands on the small of your back, the other guiding yours to the bulge in his pants. His thighs were like tree trunks, spread apart just wide enough for your hand to slide up his inseam, coming to rest on his member. You opened the buttons of his flies, allowing his cock to spring free. It was thick and concerningly long, ridges spaced out along its length. Your hand slid over them, firm but soft under your fingers. He grunted as you rubbed it, twisting your hand, squeezing the tip, eking out a drop of precum.

You slid between his legs, licking up his ventral duct, tasting him as he looked down at you, hand gently resting on your cheek. You kept one hand wrapped around the base of him, the other palming his balls as you went, hearing his groans as you licked and sucked on him, tracing the ridges with your tongue, teasing the tip, taking the end into your mouth. You could feel him resisting the urge to push you down, his hand tensing on the back of your head. You pulled off him and stood up, planting a kiss on his cheek as he panted at you.

He helped you up onto him, your feet on his thighs, facing him as you reached down, lining the ridged cock up with your cunt. You lowered yourself down onto it, whining as each ridge slipped in. Every one made you whine, each getting thicker as they entered. You paused halfway down, feeling the tip pressing against your cervix, rolling your hips a little, rubbing him against your back wall. You locked eyes with him, he was staring back at you, his breath catching, hands on your waist, barely touching you. You nodded, just a little, just enough for him to see what you were doing, and know what you meant.

His hands tightened on you, squeezing your waist as he pushed you down. You felt him pushing against you, slipping deeper in, grinding painfully against the entrance to your womb. You leant forwards a little, slipping it past your cervix to the space above. You gasped as another two ridges entered you, rocking your hips, trying to get the last one. Your cunt was stretched wide, the last ridge challenging you as you struggled to take it.

You both gasped as it slid in. You rocked yourself on him, feeling the ridges sliding up and down inside you, massaging your insides like no cock had before. You could feel him leaking, an extra layer of lubrication dripping from his cock in a steady stream, helping you as you stretched yourself around and over him. You felt close, your belly starting to tense up as you grabbed his wrists, leaning backwards to rub him against you better. You could feel your belly bulging as his cock filled you up, one of your hands sliding to your belly to feel him rearranging your guts.

Your eyes rolled back as you succumbed to your orgasm. You groaned loudly as you squirted hard on the demon fucking you, eliciting a ripple of quiet applause from the other guests, some clearly watching your antics. Your body shook and twitched, your breath coming in great heaving gasps. You could feel yourself squeezing him, pulsing against the ridges of his cock, his face screwing tight as he fought not to empty his balls in you. You reached behind yourself and grabbed his tight ballsack, feeling them churning in your hand, aching to release.

You squeezed, only a little. A long, low groan escaped his mouth, almost a growl. You felt him throb, twitching and squirming under you as he held on. Then he sighed. Thick streams of cum pumped out of him, gushing into your ready cunt as you rolled your hips on him, edging every drop out of him. He squeezed your waist, driving himselkf deep inside as more of his cum flooded you, swelling your belly even as it dripped out onto the chair

At last you fell onto him, feeling his still-hard cock still leaking inside you. He held you to his chest with one arm, the other picking up a crystal tumbler, sharing his drink with you. You stayed like that for the rest of the evening, him wearing you like a drooling, whining accessory, occasionally feeding you sips of whisky as he smoked and gambled until you eventually fell asleep, still wedged down on him.

You woke the next morning to a note, and a roll of bills.

“For an unforgettable first night. You’ll go far around here

- Ankhayat”

253 notes · View notes